Legendary Diarrhea

Catchy title isn't it?

We've all heard the stories (or maybe some of you haven't, I run with a pretty foul crowd) of diarrhea so heinous it seems to defy the laws of physics and anatomy. Some never think much about it at all (it is sorta gross after all). Others write it off as an urban myth, like the alligator in the sewers of New York (but it really happened to my sister's boyfriend's roommate from college!). But some, a proud and watchful few, know it to be real. I'm speaking of the Legendary Diarrhea.

Dear readers, I must advise you that while I maintain a clean and family-friendly atmosphere here, there are subjects (like today's) that require frankness. Sure, it may be funny, but what lies ahead is not for the faint of heart. A killer lies among us, waiting to strike. And I will not stand idly by while it claims another victim. Proceed at your own risk.

I can't recall exactly where I heard the story first, and I'd probably keep it anonymous even if I could. The victim was in the prime of life. Fit, young, virile. That's when it likes to strike. It's no fun laying low the elderly (well, it might be a little fun, but the AARP goes nuts!). While no one knows for sure where the illness came from, the victim claimed it originated in a bad "Reese's Pieces." That's right, ladies and gentlemen, not even E.T.'s favorite candy is safe. He was going about his business, enjoying a late night video game session with friends when all of a sudden, LD struck.

It presented itself as gas. Not the kind you fuel your car with, or heat your house. No, the gas that you blame on the dog, or fire in the direction of your enemies. But this gas was not amusing. It was painful, and its release was accompanied by...how to be delicate here...fluids. That's right, fluids where no fluids should be. Sure, the victim was uncomfortable, but soon enough his business seemed to be done. He recovered himself, washed his hands and retreated to his bedroom to lie down, cursing that "Reese's Pieces." But the LD was not done with our boy.

Not fifteen minutes had passed when again the victim found himself...bloated. Full to brimming as it were. He waddled to the bathroom as fast as his discomfort would allow, and was surprised when again the situation...exploded (just use your imagination). Now surely, the victim thought, he had not only gotten rid of the offending food, but anything else that might have been hiding in his small intestine. He retired to his bed, longing for the rest of sleep. It was not to be.

The story that was told to me continued for several dozen more bathroom trips over the next 48 hours. The victim made a valiant effort at hydration, but sadly lost his battle with LD and expired. The peace that he could not find on the toilet, finally found him in death. It's true. It happened to my sister's boyfriend's old college roommate. I swear.

Alright, so I was skeptical of the existence of LD, too. It's easy to buy into the stories of Sasquatch (or Rosie O'Donnell as the Native Americans refer to him), and anyone can see the logic behind Gilligan being Kennedy's assassin (we know why you took that three hour tour!), but come on. Killer Diarrhea? I don't buy it. Or, at least I didn't.

Being the Drunken Rogue comes with certain powers and abilities. I have a stronger than average constitution, am impervious to all truth serums, and I have the uncanny ability to burp the entire Beatles catalog. Generally, I don't get sick. So, Tuesday morning on our way back to Ruston when I had to pull over with car-sickness, I didn't think much of it. I hadn't had anything to drink the night before, but surely life owes me a couple of hang overs. And later that day, when I went to the bathroom at work for the third time in an hour, I still wasn't really worried. I probably just ate a little more than I should have the night before. It was the sixth trip to the bathroom, when I discovered that both my ends longed to be aimed towards the toilet that I realized there was something wrong.

Whatever you've heard about "the virus" that's going around (no, not Ebola. The stomach virus) it's much, much worse. I had no idea that my body had so much in it, nor that it could come out so quickly. I have gained a newfound respect for my digestive tract, and its processes.

As I sit here typing, nearly three days since the LD struck, I am weakened, I am bruised from battle, but I am resolute and recovering. Stand vigilant, my friends. There is danger behind that burrito, and death in the double dip. We stand prepared, or we lie defeated.

From the Vaults of the Drunken Rogue: Flushing for Dollars

For the enlightenment of the newest converts of the Drunken Rogue, and to honor the passing of another year, I've been re-issuing a few select articles from my first year of blogging. Today's selection is one I'm particularly proud of. It shows wit, humor, and good sense (as well as some personal growth as concerns one of my hang-ups). I hope that the wisdom contained herein brings you a chuckle and a happier workplace in the New Year. Without further ado:

Flushing for Dollars

As a young man, I had issues with public bathrooms. When I was shopping or at school and nature called, I'd just hold it. Many were the days I'd rush home, bursting at the proverbial (and literal) seams. Even in college, if I really had to go, I'd just skip class and head to my apartment.

Why the aversion to public toilets? Probably most of the same reasons you don't like them.

1. Germaphobia
2. Sickly anti-septic smell
3. Sandpaper-worthy toilet paper.

Now, we all agree that people (and by the way, who are these people?) misuse public toilets. They miss the seat (or don't aim at all), they use up (and don't replace) the toilet paper, pour water, soap and other interesting fluids all over the sink, etc. But do the cleaning supplies to correct these abuses have to smell like a combination natural gas and that stuff from the doctor's office? Wouldn't some nice "country fresh" Lysol do the trick? Let's assume for a moment that industrial strength cleaners are the only ones that are up to the job, if that's the case shouldn't the clean last a while? I clean my bathroom with store bought products (and not that often I might add) but when I do, it stays clean, at least for a while.

So yes, friends, I feared and despised public restrooms for most of my life. That has all changed now. What is the cause of this reversal? I give all the credit to one woman, Rose. Rose was my supervisor during my student job my last year at La Tech. Some of you may remember her from my mention in one of the "Life and Times of the Drunken Rogue" posts. Rose gave me some advice (and how this came up in conversation, I do not know), never use the bathroom on your lunchbreak. Come back to work, do it there, and extend your off time.

Rose, while an incredible secretary and manager of time, was also a genius at wasting said time. I strive every day to be a little more like her in that regard. At first I scoffed at her idea of work-time bathroom breaks, but the more I thought about it, the more I saw the truth of the principle. I can take my full lunch hour to eat, visit with my wife, watch the news, read the paper etc., and then return to work just in time to head to the bathroom with the above mentioned paper.

Now I understand this wouldn't work for some of you. Perhaps your office has a centrally located toilet and you fear the snickers that would come from stinking it up. Maybe you're even more focused on quality toilet paper than I am (I doubt it) and simply refuse to use anything less than cushiony. I urge you to give it a try though, because you are reading the words of a convert.

Benefits to Work-Time Bathrooming

1. Use ALL of your lunchtime.
2. Put off that loathsome work a few more minutes.
3. Catch up on your reading.

There are however some guidelines to follow if you wish to have the best Work-time bathroom experience.

1. Find the bathroom that is farthest from your actual workspace -- Perhaps there is one located a floor up or down from yours. Maybe there is one in the back hallway that is seldom used. Maybe you use the bathroom right beside the cubicle of your workplace rival. Just as in real estate, location location location!

2. Make sure you have the time you need -- Don't schedule your bathroom time just before a meeting. The whole point of this is to create a leisurely comfortable feel in your office, and rushing won't do that. Also you want to have plenty of time to adequately dry your hands after washing. Nothing gives away your secret like shaking hands with corporate while they are still dripping.

3. Reading material -- While not everyone needs a magazine or newspaper, at least take a pamphlet or even the liner notes for that new CD you picked up. In a pinch the employee handbook makes fascinating reading (I had no idea, I technically could take my birthday off!). The point is to occupy your mind, preferably not with work. This is your time after all.

4. Share the secret, selectively -- It's that much more fun to get away with something when you have accomplices. So those office buddies you get together with on the weekends, or the friend from college that followed you into the workplace should be in on the fun as well. I am not suggesting to take them with you, but tell them what you've discovered. ***Caution*** This should not be used as a pick up line on the hot chick from accounting that you've been eyeing. As much fun as work-time bathrooming can be, I hesitate to call it sexy.

5. Bring in reinforcements -- For me, and probably some of you the biggest drawback to using the office toilet is the industrial (re scratchy and thin) toilet paper. So I bring my own. That's right, I brought my own toilet paper. I keep it in my desk, and take what I need when I head to the bathroom. But how to get it into the office discreetly? Do you carry a briefcase, laptop bag, or satchel? There's plenty of room in there once every couple of weeks.

Follow these rules and you too can experience the joys of on-the-clock bathroom breaks. Remember:

Wise Man Say -- use the bathroom at work, and get paid to poop.