Friday, February 11, 2011

Babies + Barneys

Life is full of new experiences.  Last Sunday, I had the pleasure of attending my very first baby shower of ever. 

It was just like in the movies: crust-less finger sandwiches, the present unveiling, and most importantly, cocktails!  Unlike the rest of the guests (and the rest of humanity), I was disappointed there weren’t stupid baby shower games I hear people complaining about all the time…

Although well behaved, there were a few kids in attendance.  And if you aren’t a niece/ nephew of mine or ethnic and obese, I have very little interest in strangers’ children.  In attempts to deal with the presence of the kids and resist eating my weight in cream puffs, I decided to start drinking heavily.

Those birds were homemade (& remind me of Twitter)
and on the right are the evil cream puffs...
My face was just developing a nice red glow when I began thinking about babies and the benefits of being one.  There are many things that are socially acceptable if and only when you are a baby.  Like looking like a miniature Michelin Man, being carried while maintaining a 0% blood alcohol content level, and crapping your own pants.

Which is a great segue way into one of the greatest/horrifying stories I have ever heard in my life.  My friend, who also attended the same party, was at Barneys earlier that day shopping for a baby shower gift when something went awry…

He was already in the bathroom (peeing at the urinal), and he had to relieve himself.  Thinking it was just gas, he went for it and ended up crapping his pants. 

It was very Sex And The City: The Movie!  Except… he didn’t have Montezuma’s Revenge and he was in a Barneys mens bathroom and not a beautiful, secluded Mexican resort… So, never mind, it was nothing like that.

Anyway, he went to the stall, removed his underwear, left it there, and strolled out with his head held high.

I wasn’t as shocked to hear the story as I was shocked he was telling it in the first place. I mean, this is the kind of crap you take to your grave or, at the very least, your death bed.  You tell your hilarious sharting story, and then with one fist in the air, whimper the words ‘avenge me.’  And then you’re dead.

MORAL(S) OF THE STORY: Baby showers are surprisingly awesome and NEVER. TRUST. A FART.

PS – There are no pictures/drawings because, I mean, you read the story.  Bleck! 

3 comments:

JFM said...

Alcohol and pants-shitting. Now THIS is a blog post, sir.

Darling Stewie said...

LOL @ Like looking like a miniature Michelin Man, being carried while maintaining a 0% blood alcohol content level, and crapping your own pants.

I love the idea of a tiny little shit machine michelin man who may or may not take over New York city someday.

John said...

I am still in shock I heard this story. I mean it was LITERALLY the first thing he told us when he arrived at the party... Some people have no shame, and others benefit from this lack of shame.