my dad pushed my mom down the stairs when she was pregnant with me. she pooped herself something nasty. dad went away again. and then, i was born. just like jesus.


at my first communion, when you're supposed to say amen to "body of christ," i got nervous and fireworked a fecal rocket into my sock. luckily, the priest didn't notice. i buried my soiled socks behind the confessional booth.


at the holy camp of the little flowers in fifth grade, we would try to fart on the cute girls. lance tried so hard to fart on betsy salinger that he heaved butt chunk onto her blouse. her boobs were big.


in highschool gym class, lance and i were having a free-throw contest. he got so excited after he won that he shit right then and there on the line. he tried to rub it in with his shoe like no one had noticed. what a fat fuck.


the other day i was baby-sitting my 4-year old cousin. when we got home from sunday mass, i asked her if she wanted to make ken do barbie like a doggie. she said "i don't play with dolls anymore." then i projectiled steaming diarrhea all over her chest.


i was playing poker with lance, jamal, and gerald. we play for rosaries. purple is the best. lance weighs close to three hundred pounds. like i've said a million times: he's a fat son of a bitch. he ran out of clothes when the laundry machine was kootzed and had to wear a tight full-body satin rabbit costume to stay warm. gerald asked me if I smelled something. i said it stunk like shit. lance stood up and took off his garb. he said that someone had apparently taken a hot crap in his rabbit costume.

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