That reminds me..

When I was younger, around 13 or 14, I started entering puberty and finding out about the joys of playing with my private parts.

One thing I would do is stuff as many random things as possible into my underwear as I was getting a boner. Then when that got old, I'd hang hangers from my rock hard dick. Sometimes, I'd get naked and wrap myself in toilet paper and run around the outside of our house at night.

But one day, I was feeling a little more adventurous than usual. If only I would've known the consequences of what I was about to do..

I had to take a shit, like hardcore fucking style. I remember that I had been to some kid's birthday party earlier that day and I had eaten a shit-ton of pizza. Now, my butthole was starting to get that "spicy" feeling like when you know you're going to have a messy shit after eating a big steaming plate of mexican food.

I ran to the bathroom and threw open the lid, dancing around to keep my sphincter muscles from releasing a torrent of feces onto the floor. Suddenly, I had an idea. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a pie dish out of the cabinet.

You know where this is going. I ran back to the bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking it tight so that no one would disturb my shit shenanigans. Dropping my pants, I put the pie pan up against my ass and sat down on the toilet, and then I let that motherfucker rip.

Immediately, it felt like I had sat down in a large warm mud hole. I could feel soft shit filling the pie dish around me, and the smell hit my nostrils as it began to drip over the edges onto the floor. I was releasing far more shit than I had ever thought possible.

Finally, my internal organs stopped heaving, and I staggered to my feet, nearly slipping on the shit spray which was now all over the floor. After cleaning myself up, I took the pan o shit out of the bathroom and walked towards the door as quickly as possible -- I wanted to get rid of that shit before someone else saw it.

As if by divine intervention, my mother walked upstairs and saw me walking towards the door with a pan full of brown stuff. She laughed and thought that I was trying to bake a cake, so she showed me how to set the oven and put it in for me. My moms allergies and bad eyesight probably prevented her from realizing that it wasn't a brownie mix she had just stuck into 350 degree heat.

The stench that followed is unlike any I have ever experienced. My mom began to pick up on it and immediately threw open the oven, throwing my pan of shit out the door and almost receiving a first-degree burn in the process. I stood there, not knowing what to do or say. I kept my mouth shut and she never said anything about it, probably just assuming that I had seriously fucked the recipe up somehow.

Moral of the story - don't shit in a pan