Chilli...mmm

[Cap'n Sissyfoo]

Ha ha! Funniest thing I've read in a long time.

...well, since I had a shower this morning.

Texas Chili
===========
If you can read the whole story without tears of laughter running down your cheeks then there's no hope for you.

NOTE: Please take time to read this slowly. If you pay attention to the first two judges, the reaction of the third is even better.

For those of you who have lived in Texas, you know how true this is.
They actually have a Chili cook-off about the time the rodeo comes to town. It takes up a major portion of the parking lot at the Astrodome. These notes are from an inexperienced chili taster named Frank, who was visiting Texas from the East Coast:

"Recently, I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off.
The original person called in sick at the last moment, and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking directions to the Budweiser truck, when the call came in.

I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the Chili wouldn't be all that spicy and, besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted."


Here are the scorecards from the event:

Chili # 1 Mike's Maniac Mobster Monster Chili:

Judge # 1 -- A little too heavy on the tomato. Amusing kick.

Judge # 2 -- Nice, smooth, tomato flavor. Very mild.

Judge # 3 (Frank) -- Holy shit, what the hell is this stuff? You
Could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.


Chili # 2 Arthur's Afterburner Chili

Judge # 1 -- Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight jalapeno tang.

Judge # 2 -- Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken
seriously.

Judge # 3 -- Keep this out of the reach of children. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.


Chili # 3 Fred's Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili

Judge # 1 -- Excellent firehouse chili. Great kick. Needs more beans.

Judge # 2 -- A bean less chili, a bit salty, good use of peppers

Judge # 3 -- Call the EPA. I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels Like I have been snorting Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now, Get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting shit-faced from all of the beer.


Chili # 4 Bubba's Black Magic

Judge # 1 -- Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.

Judge # 2 -- Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.

Judge # 3 -- I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it. Is it possible to burn out taste buds? Sally, the barmaid, was standing behind me with fresh refills. That 300-lb.bitch is starting to look HOT (just like this nuclear waste I'm eating.) Is chili an aphrodisiac?


Chili # 5 Linda's Legal Lip Remover

Judge # 1 -- Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.

Judge # 2 -- Chili using shredded beef, could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.

Judge # 3 -- My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from the pitcher I wonder if I'm burning my lips off.
It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop
screaming. Screw those rednecks.

Chili # 6 Vera's Very Vegetarian Variety

Judge # 1 -- Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of
Spices and peppers.

Judge # 2 -- The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.

Judge # 3 -- My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with
gaseous, sulfuric flames. I shit myself when I farted and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that slut Sally. She must be kinkier than I thought. Can't feel my lips anymore.
I need to wipe my ass with a snow cone.


Chili # 7 Susan's screaming Sensation Chili

Judge # 1 -- A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.

Judge # 2 -- Ho hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in can of
Chili peppers at the last moment. I should take note that I am worried about Judge # 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is Swearing uncontrollably.

Judge # 3 -- You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a thing. I've lost sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili, which slides unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava-like shit to match my shirt. At least during the autopsy, they'll know what killed me.
I've decided to stop breathing, its too painful. Screw it; I'm not
Getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4-inch hole in my stomach.

Chili #8 Tommy's Toe-Nail Curling Chili

Judge # 1 -- The perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili. Not too
Bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.

Judge # 2 -- This final entry is a good, balance chili. Neither mild
Nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge # 3 passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor dude, wonder how he'd have reacted to really hot chili.

 

[bewal]

Lol, I have hope... <wiping tears out of his eyes>

 

[Belsameth]

dammit! I was so sure I was hopeless. yet not all eems to be lost for me

 

[shani]

tried to read it without laughfing, but failed miserably

 

[Pixie.Pebr]

Mmmm...
It was funny the first time, around 1999 I think it was

Good thing new people are enjoying it though

 

[SFXman]

lol, seen it before here but DAMN it is funny.
Here's another quite hilarious one I read on some forum ages ago. Might be old:

Another life lesson from the legend Metallic Blue! I was bored out of my skull this morning, so I wrote about a tale my good friend Z Man told me about his day at work. I swear to god, after he told me this story I thought he was a superhero, so enjoy folks.
Based on a true story of the man, the miracle, the Ass Man!

It was 5:30 in the morning when that little nazi piece of shit that everyone else refers to as a clock, brought me out of a drunken sleep. I don't know if it was so much a sleep, as being passed out. I would have given my left nut for the luxury of hitting the snooze button just once, but I have always said "You stay out with the boys. You get up with the men." I took a quick glance around the room to make sure I hadn't picked up some ugly fuck hole the night before. God knows, that with a few crown royals in a man, his judgment becomes somewhat impaired when it comes to the opposite sex. I was alone and all I wanted to do was go back to bed. I drug my ass into the shower and tried to piece together the events of the evening before.
Lets see. Got off work. OK that's clear. Went to a bar. OK that's still clear. Had a few shots of Crown. OK starting to get fuzzy. At some point in the evening I somehow decided I was a rock star, and I began partying like Jim Fucking Morrison.
The rest of the evening is just a blur, punctuated with flashes of me slamming down shots like they were never gonna make any more, and I wanted to make sure I got the last drop before the world ran out of alcohol.I get out of the shower and go to the front window looking for my truck, not knowing how I got home. Ahhhhh, there she was, and with no dents, dings or scrapes. One quick glance around the living room told a thousand tales. There is taco fucking bell bags everywhere. Half eaten burritos, tacos, those little fucking tatter tot things, and god knows what else. All of a sudden a harsh reality sets in, "at some point in this day my guts are going to produce the biggest taco-crown bomb ever seen by the likes of mankind," and I think to myself that ill just deal with it when the time comes.
Go back in the bathroom to brush my teeth. As soon as the taste of the paste hit my mouth, I started screaming in color at my reflection in the mirror. Fuck, this is gonna be a long day. I inspect the contents of my stomach, which are now in the sink, and I am pleasantly surprised not to find blood. What did concern me however, was the lack of solid foods. Indicating that the 6 pack of tacos, the assorted fucking burritos, gordidas and maybe even that little fucking dog, had made it past my stomach and into my intestine track. Guaranteeing that I would be producing a turd of epic proportion. Had I know just what this day held in store for me, I never would have left my house.
On my way into work I realize that I have about an hour before the new bookkeeper is going to be there so I don't need to rush in, and I decide that a cup of coffee might be a good idea. Next door to my work is a little shithole 24 hour joint that is owned by some slant eyed Korean bastard with bad teeth and even worse engirish, and I do mean "engirish." I get a table and order coffee. The table looked like someone had stolen the contents of my sink and painted the top of it with the stomach cocktail I had so lovingly concocted not more than an hour before. Needless to say, I decided to move before I added a whole new bile theme to this masterpiece of purge. My coffee came and I decided I might have a bite to eat. Knowing full well that I would most likely get food poisoning from eating anything that this shit hole of a restaurant. But IM still too drunk to give a shit. I don't know, maybe I figured there was enough crown in my blood to kill off any food born bacteria. And in retrospect, I really think there was. I decided on an omelet that is listed on the menu as, and I quote, "The Garbage Disposal".
This fucker had everything in it. 6 eggs, peppers, potatoes, mushrooms, chopped up chilies, sausage, leftover biscuits, salsa, ham, cheese, probably some cat meat and everything else under the sun. And to top it off, a nice thick brown gravy. AHHHHHHH!! I was in drunk munchie paradise. "Wourd loo rike a grass of mirk" the server asked me. Why the hell not. im not gonna wash all this down with coffee. I fucking ate it all. Right down to the last piece of toast crust, drank my milk, finished my coffee, paid my bill, and I was off to work.
Not long after I opened up, the new bookkeeper arrived. IM not the one who hired her so I had never seen her. She was semi-attractive, about my age. I must have reeked of booze because she wouldn't get closer than 7 feet to me. La de da, this and that and I get her settled in. I walk out of her office and start down the hall and all of a sudden all the bells and whistles in my head start going off like an air raid warning. THE POO IS COMING!!!!!! THE POO IS COMING!!!!!! Not seconds after that my insides cramped up as though I had been impaled with a hot fireplace poker, and I was lucky enough to realize, that I was about to shit my pants. I managed to slam my ass cheeks together just before the flow of butt lava freed itself from its confines.
This produced a new problem. I could not move. There I stood in the hall with my ass doing its best impersonation of an oyster. I felt like someone was kicking me repeatedly in the guts, and the pain was blurring my vision.Panic started to set in after about 4 minutes of standing in one place. What if someone comes down the hall and I have to move. NOT AN OPTION!!!!
Another couple of minutes pass and I can move from the knees down only. At this point I would have given the world for an ass plug or a pair of depends, and I really wouldn't have cared which. It took me about 5 minutes, and about a quart of sweat and tears to go the 35 feet to the bathroom. All the while it felt like I had a living creature inside of me that had a body temperature of about 75000 degrees, had the claws of a brown bear, was madder than hell, and wanted out of my ass NOW!!!! Much to my surprise, I made it to the bathroom without blowing mud in my pants. The bookkeeper never came out of her office, and nobody ever came down the hall. No sooner had I closed the door, than I realized I had yet another problem. There was no way in hell I would be able to drop my pants and keep this demon from hell in my ass long enough to drop myself onto the shitter. So there I stood. I waited until the mind numbing waves of pain subsided a little and undid my pants, I figured if i pulled my pants down and sat in one quick motion i might live through this. OK on three I thought to myself. One, Two, THREE!!!!!!!! I pulled my pants down with one fast and furious motion not even realizing just how much pressure was built up in my ass, and that by bending over so quickly, I had just increased the pressure four fold.

 

[SFXman]

There was an ASSPLOSION.
The propulsion of the jet stream of shit actually pushed me forward and I almost fell over. Now when I say assplosion, you have to understand, that I literally had a mushroom cloud of crap BLOW out of my overworked sphincter. Granted, the relief to my guts was heavenly, but I was horrified at what I saw when I turned around. There was fucking shit every where. My shit bomb worked as though it was designed to military specifications. There was butt gravy six feet up the wall. The toilet looked as though it had been painted liberally with a nice coat of shit.There was shit on the toilet paper. There was shit on the mirror. There was shit in the sink. Shit on the door. Shit on the floor. My whole backside was covered with a greasy coat of shit. The back of my white shirt looked like a thousand monkeys had used it to wipe eachoththers asses. The smell was overwhelming. The bathroom was only about five foot by four and a half feet wide, so it soon became hard to breath, and i began to gag and choke. So there i was, with the worst hangover of my life, I have the dry heaves (somehow, my breakfast had joined forces with the taco bell for this ass party of the millennium, and was no longer in my stomach), I was covered in shit. Hell everything was covered with shit and there was nothing I could do.I couldn't just walk out of the bathroom and leave it like that for someone to find, not to mention, there was no fucking way I was gonna walk out of there with butt juice all over me. I was a hostage! MY SHIT HAD LITERALLY -- TAKEN ME HOSTAGE!!!!!!!
I had to formulate a plan of attack to free myself from this virtual shit hole. The toilet paper was going to be of no use to me, as it was now soggy with poo juice, by the grace of god, the roll of paper towels remained unsoiled and much to my luck it was a full roll. I began the distastful task of cleaning up. I have never experienced anything quite like this and I hope I never do again, it was axle grease, my ass had just manufactured axle grease! It wouldnt wipe up, only spread. After a good twenty minutes of wiping, washing, gagging and choking, I ran out of paper towles, which was OK because I had pretty well cleaned up everything. Now, how in the hell am I gonna get out of here undetected?!
I had another shirt from the dry cleaners in my truck but how was I going to get there?! Then I remembered a jacket that I had seen at someone's desk!! I had to act fast, more people would be showing up soon. I stuffed my shirt in the garbage and peeked out the door. The coast was clear so I ran like the wind for that fucking jacket. When I put the jacket on I realized that it must have belonged to a kid and not someone in the office because the sleeves only came to my elbows. To fucking late to change plans now buddy, your committed. As soon as I get the thing zipped, the new, semi-attaractive, about my age, bookkeeper came around the corner looking for me with a question. I must have been quite a sight. The first time she saw me I was in a suit and tie, reeking of booze. Now here I am wearing a kids jacket with no shirt, reeking of booze, and the added scent of eau de ass sauce. The only thing going though my mind was FUCK!!!!!!!!!!! She was polite enough to pretend like this was something she sees every day and paid no notice. I answered her question and acted like this is a completely natural thing for a grown man to be doing at this time in the morning.
As soon as she was gone I ran like hell to my truck and grabbed my fresh shirt, threw it on, and went back inside. I poked my head in her office and told her that I had an emergency call and had to leave for a little while. All I wanted at this point was a shower. I drove home, cleaned up, changed my clothes and returned to the scene of the crime. By now there are other people in the office going about their business. I went in the bathroom to give it one more thorough cleaning with Lysol.Once all the evidence of my battle with the ass monster was gone i felt like i was reborn, I WAS A NEW MAN!!!!!!!! I had fought the battle of the poo and come out the victor.
I will never forget that day. The bookkeeper worked there for a year or so and never mentioned her first day to me. Never will I forget the look on her face when she found a mad man in front of her stinking of all that is evil, wearing a child's jacket that only covered half my torso. Nor will I forget her question. "Where's the bathroom"?
So let this be a lesson to all of you. If you ever stay up until the wee hours of the morning drinking like a fish and eating like a pig, wake up drunker than 10 Indians and eat more shit fuel, and feel the sensation of a nuclear bomb going off inside your bowels. For gods sake, JUST SHIT YOUR PANTS!!!!!!! Then just go home. Believe me, you do not want to go through all the pain of the alternative.

 

[Cap'n Sissyfoo]

Or alternatively do what I do and phone in sick ~cough cough~

 

[Uncle Sick(tm)]

The OT was a mere fledgling of Brinx' ewulness when I posted that for the first time...

You have to do better to impwess a fowumite...


SFX... you should make the occasional paragraph if you paste whole books into a post...

 

[Belsameth]

Originally posted by Uncle Sick(tm)
The OT was a mere fledgling of Brinx' ewulness when I posted that for the first time...

You have to do better to impwess a fowumite...


SFX... you should make the occasional paragraph if you paste whole books into a post...

 

[old.tRoG]

we weally, weally, weally, desperately, need some new links/jokes etc.!

Pronto!

*fires up google and gets a-searchin'*