TIFU by soiling a pair of expensive underwear and leggings.

Sorry for whoever has to reset the counter for how many days we can go without one of us shitting ourselves. I never thought it would happen to me.

I was feeling in a shitty mood today, I was hungover and smoked a lot of weed last night. I was really hungry and wanted food but I was too tired to cook. A magnificent idea came to me-- let me to go the local 24/7 deli that serves amazing sandwiches! Hmm. What to get. Waffle fries with honey mustard. And a sandwich-- chicken cutlet, swiss cheese, onion rings, barbecue sauce on a hero that's been toasted with garlic butter. Yummmm right?

My stomach didn't think so. I immediately had these terrible pangs in my abdomen. I used the bathroom, but nothing. Maybe it was just gas.

Oh was I wrong.

See, in a matter of 10 minutes 3 firetrucks made their way to my block. They busted open a hydrant, and all of the other neighbors like us, who didn't have a clear line of sight to what the fuck was going on down the block from their windows, got out of their houses.

I was standing by my doorway when I felt this whirring in my stomach.

WAS IT GAS? This was going to smell so fucking bad for how much it hurt.

I thought it was going to be a fart. But no. My no-no spot exploded. And I felt it. Immeditely all I could think to do was unzip my leggings before they would be soiled. I had them unbuttoned and unzipped around my hips.

It was like my stomach giving me the biggest fuck you ever. Like hey you didn't just take a nice long shower, no definitely not. You didn't get all pretty for your boyfriend, fuck him. You know what you're going to be doing tonight? You're going to be washing YELLOW DIARRHEA out of your fucking emporio armani underwear and your diesel jeggings. And why? Because fuck you, I'm a princess bitch, I get what I want.

Then an obstacle, that could have ONLY spawned from the very depths of hell revealed itself: my staircase.

I was holding in the rest of what ungodly matter was dying to escape my body with all the muscles I had, while at the same time, I was hopping up the stairs. You can see where this can go bad, because I missed a step and tripped.

I can't even explain what happened because at the moment I'm trying to repress what the fuck just happened.

Long story short, I'm cleaning shitpiss off of my staircase.

My boyfriend is going to be here in less than a half hour and it smells terrible. I don't even.. Fuck.

TLDR; ate food that didn't agree with stomach, tripped and had diarrhea all over staircase.