So, McDonald's wasn't done with me for a third day. I spent the entire day doing my shit-farts for 15 minutes at a time in the restroom. Also, my bowels pleasantly added the burning sensation to the experience for me! How wonderful!
So, my poor anus was heavily brutalized. It felt like some giant, burly man with tattoos on his arms savagely sodomized me over and over again with a rolled up sheet of sandpaper. The slightest breeze passing out would cause me to cry for my mother. It was dry like the Sahara and was swollen shut. I had to put Vaseline on my finger and well...you can guess the rest of this story.
This morning though, on the way to work I was hit with the need to squeeze out some Hershey's. So, what did I do? I went straight to the McDonald's and gave it a taste of my home-brewed medicine. Little do I know, they're pumping that straight back into the special sauce that drenches the steak, egg, and diarrhea bagel. Thus, it all comes full cycle as it lands into an unsuspecting, curious individual's hands as he passes through the drive-through.
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