"Haha! I just threw my own shit!"

...and for my 100th post. Ok, so it's the 105th. It took me a little while to get this cleared. Here's a study break for those of you taking finals this week. The shit story is a short tale of one of the craziest, non-drug induced nights that I've ever been apart of. I'm almost positive my telling it won't do it any justice at all. I doubt this will even see the light of day anyway. This will be the only entry I ever do that will need a 'clearance' from the people that were there to make sure I don't ruffle any feathers. It all started when me and two of my friends went out one Sunday night after work..... It was a magical night of drinking. Like, Walt Disney-magic. It seemed like we were invincible the way we mixed liquors and beers without ever getting sick. There were tequila shots, whiskey shots, a few jager bombs, beer chasers (for the pussies), and I'm sure some other stuff that I can't remember/name. We could do no wrong. It was GLORIOUS. We closed out the bar, as we usually do, and decided to head home. When we made it outside to our cars, none of us felt like driving off, so we hung out in the parking lot and started bullshitting. That was until someone had the best idea ever (sense the sarcasm) to walk to his cousin's house so he could drive us home. "He doesn't live far. It's not like we have anything else to do." Across the street from the bar is a Park & Ride that we opted to cut through to save some time and stay out of the lights. To the left of the Park & Ride was a small grassy field, some trees, and a Honey Bucket. I've always thought that was an odd place to have one, but whatever. From my left I heard a voice say, "Watch this" and when I turned, I saw one of my friends plow into the Honey Bucket, nearly tipping it over. If that wasn't funny enough, someone yelled from the inside, "Hey motherfucker! I'm in here!"....at 2:30 in the fucking morning. I start to double-over from laughter when I hear a voice from my right say, "Oh yeah? Watch this." I look to my right and through my tears I can see one of my other friends plow into the plastic Park & Ride sign, completely shattering it. I fell to the ground in pain from laughing and he fell to the ground in pain of....pain. We continued our journey. Every quarter mile we walked was accompanied by a, "It's not too much further from here." Keep in mind that we were walking down the busiest streets in the city, completely and utterly trashed, being as loud and as stupid as possible. If I remember correctly, I think we were yelling and flipping off cars as we walked too. Real high-school stuff, but who cares, it was fun. It got a whole lot funner when we stopped to piss. I sat on the curb as my two friends went into some bushes to pee. The bushes were roughly a couple feet away from the street so we were completely visible. As I sat there watching for nosy people, I thought I heard something that I wish I hadn't... "I gotta take a shit. I'm gonna go right here." I assumed he was full of shit (not literally full of shit), laughed, and paid it no mind. That was until I saw a foreign substance land about two feet away from me. All the alcohol must have affected my reaction time a little bit because I just kinda sat there and stared at it hoping to find out it wasn't what I thought it was. I realized what it was when he came from the bushes laughing hysterically... "Hahaha! I just threw my own shit!" ...and that he did. There was a pile of shit, covered in beauty bark, a little closer to me than I would have liked. I quickly got up, laughing my ass off. As I took a hold of the situation, so did my other friend, and he found it just as hilarious. Then all of a sudden, the shit-flinger started running across the street at full speed, still laughing... (yelling) "Dude, I just threw my shit at that window!" That's all I needed to start running myself. He threw his fucking shit on the fucking window of a fucking dentist office. His dentist, coincidently. We followed him across the street and watched as he tripped on the curb and mowed through a couple of bushes while getting drenched from the most oddly timed sprinklers ever. He got up with scratches and leaves all over his stomach, but that would not stop him. We continued to run for another quarter-mile until we safely hit a back street... "Hey, my cousin's place is right around the corner. I need to change my boxers." Yeah, I know what you're thinking, but I typed it anyway. We continued to walk with his cousin's place 'just around the corner'. Of course the last time he said so, he was right. Luckily his brother was there because the cousin was sound asleep. Like a rock. When we walked in, he made a bee-line to the bathroom. We took a short tour of the house before we went back out front. Although, the shit-flinger wasn't behind us. He did happen to resurface with a full package of Kraft Singles. After taking a break to scoot his ass across the carpet like only a drunk pitbull would do, he walked to the doorway and began launching cheese slices all over his cousin's front yard and then the adjacent neighbor's yard and car. I was told they were still there in the morning. I bet that pissed some people off. Another bright idea: "Hey, you think my cousin would mind if we borrowed his van?" 'Borrow' would be the word I'd use to the cops if we were to get pulled over that night. We piled into his cousin's work van and went 50 in a 35 all the way back to the bar. There was a point when we all nearly smashed into the windshield, going from fifty to zero in 0.5 seconds. We didn't, fortunately, but almost everything in that work van did. The shit-flinger decided at this time to confess to us what he did before he discovered the cheese earlier. "I threw my shitty boxers in the garbage." "Where?" "In the kitchen" "The kitchen?" "Yeah." "Where the food is?" "Hehe, yuuup." Keep in mind that his cousin was asleep during all of this. Like I said before, I bet plenty of people were pissed in the morning. After skidding around the city, we eventually made it back to where we started. Another bright idea: "Follow me back to my cousin's so we can give back his van." ...and then he took off. We attempted to follow him, still drunk, with his cousin's stolen work van. This was all at about five-ish or so in the morning. Luckily my friend, the master drunk driver, had a decent enough memory to know about where to go. We made it back so we can all hop in the shit-flinger's car and head to the local casino to get some steak and eggs.