The Truth About Asparagus
I have developed an unhealthy and equally unholy addiction to asparagus lately. In fact, I’ve had asparagus four times in the past week alone and pretty soon the reek from my own piss will have to be registered as a Weapon of Mass Destruction.
On my first bathroom break at work today, a toxic asparagus stench emanated from my stream of piss so thick that it hung in the air like a fine mist. Once I let loose that valve in my Johnson and began taking my leak, it was like being transported directly into the middle of the battlefield at Ypres without my gas mask. My nose instantly recoiled from the direction of the urine like a starving jackal from an elephant turd, and my lungs burned with each inward breath – it was the absolute worst torture that one could self-inflict upon oneself. Even a thrill-seeking gastroenterologist wouldn’t dare venture into that potent bathroom gas chamber without a full radioactive fallout suit!
Now, if you’re sitting there wrinkling your nose at the computer screen and saying to yourself “but my pee doesn’t stink when I eat asparagus” – then consider yourself fucking lucky. It has been discovered that only 22 per cent of the population actually possesses the physical ability to detect the pungent methanethiol compound created by the digesting of the asparagus in the body. Lucky-fucking-us!
If that’s the case, when it comes to asparagus, I have the nose of a hungry Mako shark; able to detect the tiniest hint of methanethiol per billion liters of piss. I could sniff out trapped survivors from the rubble if an asparagus factory if one were ever to collapse in on itself. How fortunate am I? This is one skill that I’m surely not going to be bragging about at the local watering hole, although I may start including it on resumes.
I guess God was really running low on personal “gifts” by the time he managed to work his way down the assembly line of life to me. By this time, all the useful, cool gifts like the ability to sketch life drawings, create beautiful music, burp the alphabet, or breaking 2x4’s with your face were all handed out and he must have been getting to the bottom of the barrel indeed.
“And to you, my son, will have the glorious ability to detect asparagus in your pee…don’t waste it, jackass!”
Hey thanks. What a fucking rip!
On my first bathroom break at work today, a toxic asparagus stench emanated from my stream of piss so thick that it hung in the air like a fine mist. Once I let loose that valve in my Johnson and began taking my leak, it was like being transported directly into the middle of the battlefield at Ypres without my gas mask. My nose instantly recoiled from the direction of the urine like a starving jackal from an elephant turd, and my lungs burned with each inward breath – it was the absolute worst torture that one could self-inflict upon oneself. Even a thrill-seeking gastroenterologist wouldn’t dare venture into that potent bathroom gas chamber without a full radioactive fallout suit!
Now, if you’re sitting there wrinkling your nose at the computer screen and saying to yourself “but my pee doesn’t stink when I eat asparagus” – then consider yourself fucking lucky. It has been discovered that only 22 per cent of the population actually possesses the physical ability to detect the pungent methanethiol compound created by the digesting of the asparagus in the body. Lucky-fucking-us!
If that’s the case, when it comes to asparagus, I have the nose of a hungry Mako shark; able to detect the tiniest hint of methanethiol per billion liters of piss. I could sniff out trapped survivors from the rubble if an asparagus factory if one were ever to collapse in on itself. How fortunate am I? This is one skill that I’m surely not going to be bragging about at the local watering hole, although I may start including it on resumes.
I guess God was really running low on personal “gifts” by the time he managed to work his way down the assembly line of life to me. By this time, all the useful, cool gifts like the ability to sketch life drawings, create beautiful music, burp the alphabet, or breaking 2x4’s with your face were all handed out and he must have been getting to the bottom of the barrel indeed.
“And to you, my son, will have the glorious ability to detect asparagus in your pee…don’t waste it, jackass!”
Hey thanks. What a fucking rip!
posted by crazytigerrabbitman at
3:52 PM
1 Comments:
and here I thought your only talent was laying on the couch, eating grapes!
You, my dear TPM, are a true chic magnet!
By
STP, at 11:05 AM
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