Enjoying a three-course restaurant meal is nice. Not just appetizer, entree, dessert. I’m talking about a curated meal and full cultural experience; entree, side dishes, chopping of the hand for skipping the bill. You know, a full cultural experience.
We’re at this authentic Pakistani restaurant where people eat with their hands. The food was so good I dug in with all ten fingers and toes.
We ordered so much food that, if we ate it all, we’d need an Uber XXXL to drive both of us home. We resisted being glutinous and decided to take home our leftovers.
I had a friend who didn’t eat leftovers. What exactly is a leftover? Would you say no to eating an apple that was plucked from a tree the day before you got it?
Anyways, I’m home when I feel a gurgling in my belly that turned out to be a ghost poop. BTW, ever do a poop so hard your butthole pulsates?
If I was a poop, I’m not going back to the small cramped ghettos of my youths. I’d haunt fun places like Beyoncé’s mouth.
I’d have her diva fan blow my stenches back into her face and mess up her entire concentration. You think a ghost poop sabotaged Beyoncé’s 2013 Super Bowl performance?
For that same reason, I’d go roll around in the Queen of England’s mouth. People coming up, desperate to talk to the Queen, but I got she mouth smelling like doody. I’d enjoy watching her blow taxpayer money trying to eradicate my stenches from her mouth.
Anywhores, I crawl back to bed after my ghost poop. Moments later I hear my roommate in the bathroom dropping farts so earth-shattering they were off the Richter.
I snap back to reality when my roommate starts to laugh like the ghost poop had possessed their entire body. “We have diarrhoea”
WeEeEeE? DiArRhoEa? My brain couldn’t compute but with the magical D-word announced, my bowels let loose and I needed the rest room urgently.
Real talk, why do they call it a “restroom” when that’s the one place your butthole be working overtime?
We had the runnings for two days. We didn’t want to believe that our beloved authentic Pakistani restaurant was the reason we got sick. The thought of throwing out our leftovers was heart breaking.
Throwing out good food because it gives you diarrhoea is like breaking up with a bad boyfriend with bomb dick. Sure he gave you the clap but no one makes you feel as good as he do.
It was tough giving up our bad food. We actually contemplated how many more days of diarrhoea was worth enjoying another serving. Thankfully common sense reigned and we threw the food out.
Shout out to all the Yelpers who posted their diarrhoea stories. Without y’all we wouldn’t know which restaurants offer authentic cultural experiences.
Award-winning Caribbean comedian, Onicia Muller’s weekly humour column, Just Being Funny is chicken soup for the naive sceptic’s soul. You can hire her to write anything from blogs and newsletters to bathroom poetry funny greeting cards. Join her newsletter for funny stories and stand-up comedy. OniciaMuller.com