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The devil’s toilet is never clogged up. Don’t accuse me of being cryptic! My logic is simple: the devil lives in hell, hell is filled with magma, volcanoes are filled with magma ergo volcanoes are hell; volcanoes emit sulfur gas (devil burps), thus the devil pisses concentrated sulfuric acid cleaning and unclogging his satanic plumbing.
If you’ve ever had the pleasure of pouring concentrated sulfuric acid into a drain, you know my misery. My father and I underestimated the awful power of sulfur and thought a simple door would contain the incredible stench. It’s an hour later and the entire house smells like a fifty ton chicken who’s been dead for five weeks popped out an egg stewing in its sweltering body, cracked it open, mixed it with—wait, better: it smells like the Jolly Green Giant took a shit on our house. Ho, ho, ho, fuck you, Green Giant!
Concentrated sulfuric acid is toxic. I’m not kidding, it’ll burn through your skin, eat away your eyes, and fuse the alveoli of your lungs shut. An accidental sniff will trigger your gag reflex, even if you’re a seasoned prostitute.
The bottle instructs users to wear protective face masks and to invert a pan over the sink to prevent splattering in case of an explosion. But my dad and I are men, men no need protection. A face mask would’ve helped.
It was classically revolting, appealing to nearly every one of the five senses. The sink gurgled like an animal with a fresh slit across the neck, it smelled like the inside of a whale sitting in the sun for a month, and it spewed a black, viscous, bubbling liquid reminiscent tar or what you’d imagine the grim reaper would bleed.
Anyhow, this stuff didn’t work. It served only to bring us a step closer to death. The sink is still clogged and the house smells more like shit than ever before. God damn you, Green Giant! God damn you!
If you’ve ever had the pleasure of pouring concentrated sulfuric acid into a drain, you know my misery. My father and I underestimated the awful power of sulfur and thought a simple door would contain the incredible stench. It’s an hour later and the entire house smells like a fifty ton chicken who’s been dead for five weeks popped out an egg stewing in its sweltering body, cracked it open, mixed it with—wait, better: it smells like the Jolly Green Giant took a shit on our house. Ho, ho, ho, fuck you, Green Giant!
Concentrated sulfuric acid is toxic. I’m not kidding, it’ll burn through your skin, eat away your eyes, and fuse the alveoli of your lungs shut. An accidental sniff will trigger your gag reflex, even if you’re a seasoned prostitute.
The bottle instructs users to wear protective face masks and to invert a pan over the sink to prevent splattering in case of an explosion. But my dad and I are men, men no need protection. A face mask would’ve helped.
It was classically revolting, appealing to nearly every one of the five senses. The sink gurgled like an animal with a fresh slit across the neck, it smelled like the inside of a whale sitting in the sun for a month, and it spewed a black, viscous, bubbling liquid reminiscent tar or what you’d imagine the grim reaper would bleed.
Anyhow, this stuff didn’t work. It served only to bring us a step closer to death. The sink is still clogged and the house smells more like shit than ever before. God damn you, Green Giant! God damn you!
one time my friend had a can of expired clams explode in her house. They had to leave their house and go to a hotel. Even the neighboring houses could smell it for days. Some city workers in hazmat suits had to come clean it up.
ReplyDeleteThis was sick, twisted and gross ... and I laughed out loud!
ReplyDeleteI knew I went crossed the line with my flatus reference. Speaking of, I find flatus a more embarrassing word to type than fart. I mean, in person, fart is a no-no word, but people are hardpressed to say, "who is emitting flatus?"
ReplyDelete"'Twas I! 'Twas I who emitted flatus," is an even more abnormal response.
Anyway, forgive the fart reference.
Oh, and I was going to make a hazmat reference, but dammit why didn't I!