[smoosh]

Found it!!

Enjoy -- PS I included a pic of us from the night of just to prove that I did actually go there and this event did actually happen...

Side note...I look nothing like that now lol This was almost 2 years ago...

Last week, my girlfriend had a military Christmas ball that she invited me to as her date (she's a nurse in the navy). I gladly tagged along, it sounded pretty exciting to me. Little did I know it would be the shittiest day of my life.

After some photos and catching up with her work buddies, we took our seats in the ballroom of a hotel for dinner. There were approximately 1,100 people total there, and about 10 sitting at each table. I sat next to my girlfriend and a high-ranked officer. I didn't think much of it, to be honest, I wasn't particularly familiar with military ranking and such, but had a general idea. I struck a conversation with the gentleman, and we started talking, and drinking a beer. Then, for whatever reason, my stomach starting KILLING me. There was an excruciating pain in the lower part of my stomach, around my bladder area. I got up and went to the bathroom. To my relief, it was just a violent fart (silent but deadly) and I let it rip. I returned to the table, much more relaxed.

10 minutes later, same deal. Pain in my lower stomach region. I knew it was a silent one, but the smell of the previous violent fart was absolutely deadly, so I chose to get up and leave for the bathroom again. Same deal. I may have knocked out the gentleman next to me in the stall, because I believe he keeled over while sitting on the toilet as I was leaving. The smell was that bad.

I returned to the table, and my girlfriend checked in with me if I was OK. "Hell yeah, baby, I'm gucci" I replied, oblivious as to what I was in for that lovely evening. Literally 3 minutes later, same pain. Ughh, wtf. I didn't want to get up and leave again, I would just seem weird to the people at the table. So, I elected to hold it in and judge where it goes from there. The gas was at the point where it's near the end of your asshole, so you have to clench your ass cheeks extra tight to hold it in. As I was doing so, I managed to knock over the red wine glass next to me, right on the uniform of the officer sitting next to me. It was completely full, and I felt so bad because it stained the hell out of his pants. I apologized several times, but I knew he was pretty pissed. I tried to clear that out of my mind, and continue with the night.

My violent farts subsided for dinner, and I enjoyed the hell out of that chicken breast and bullshit Dunkin Donuts bran muffin they served to us like we were in a homeless shelter. 10-15 minutes following dinner, the highest-ranked officer(?) of Walter Reed started walking around and talking with the various tables. Not sure of his position, but I knew he was in the highest position (my apologies for my ignorance in military ranking). As he approached our table, everyone stood up to shake his hand. I was completely zoned out and my girlfriend tapped me on my shoulder indicating me to get up. Whoops. At this point, everyone at the table happened to all be staring at me. What's worse? The second I get up...violent fart. And this son of a bitch was an awful one. Silent but VERY deadly. Oh shit. Here approaches the officer. Shit shit shit. The second I reach out to grip his hand, he smells it. The indescribable look on his face can never, and should never be replicated by any man walking on this planet. I'm surprised he was still conscious after taking a whiff of that digested Dunkin Donuts bran muffin and chicken breast.

The second he walked away, I dashed off to the bathroom in embarrassment. As I was walking, I felt another sharp pain, this time in my anal region. Figuring it was just another fart, I entered the stall and let it rip. Let me tell you, it certainly was not a fart. It was a long, steamy, thick poop, that came out about three-quarters of the way. I quickly yanked my pants down, and let it go. Ahh, yes relief. This was it! This was what I was waiting for all night! I felt so damned relieved and excited leaving the restroom, spectators could have confused me for just winning the lottery!

Wait, wait, one final sharp pain began boiling in my lower stomach, the fart region. There were several individuals standing around near the restroom, so I decided not to turn around and go back in (to minimize the chances of letting it rip in their presence and having to walk back past them after visiting the restroom), but rather figured I would do one of the old, "step-fart-step-fart" dances as I walked back to the ballroom. I approached several couples standing and taking pictures near a Christmas tree. WHAT THE HELL? This fart could no longer wait. I knew it had to be done. I used what I learned in elementary math, regarding angles and shit, and figured it would be best to walk in this direction while letting it rip, as it would be a silent one again:



I didn't realize that I just took a dump, so it would not be a silent one any longer! I let it rip, and the mortified look on everyone's face was truly enthralling. No, really, I felt like an angel momentarily, splitting between the couples, all eyes on me. I was so embarrassed at that moment, I literally became delusional. I must have hit above 100 decibels with that one, even the Christmas tree aged and might have died due to environmental pollution caused by my gas.

I walked back into the ballroom, and took a seat next to the officer with a now red-dyed uniform. I got so drunk that night at a bar, I didn't realize I was conversing with one of the victims to my deadly farts, until my girlfriend told me his wife may or may not have vomited to the stench of the gas.

I like to think she did not