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Marfa Low Crown

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Everything posted by Marfa Low Crown

  1. I don’t think I read them all but everything I read was hilarious. when our DS was smoking one or two individuals for... whatever, he would make us guess what he liked on his cheeseburger while we were pushing. 😂 me: drill sergeant Hammond you like mayonnaise lettuce and pickles on your cheeseburger him: I don’t like no damn mayonnaise low crown.. push! we kept copious notes on his dietary preferences .We shared them as an entire platoon but the problem is that what he liked on his cheeseburger changed every single time he did it to us fn hilarious 😂
  2. Fugigit let’s get something going here. Jfc. Would.
  3. Alright. With the green light from @Prepuce of Doom I begin. This story is a bit long & I vow to truncate it as much as I can but for accuracy a number of things must be mentioned starting with the fulcrum point & that is MSG. History tells us that MSG is a naturally occurring salt on at least one variety of seaweed available to the coastal peoples in Asia for millennia. They found in their cooking that if you added this seaweed into a given dish everything just seemed to taste better. These days we use a synthesized version of it commercially and it delivers the same results. If you reach a point where it does not agree with you it delivers other results and that of course would be the crux of my post. Almost 20 years ago which is when the story takes place , I kept the company of a mildly schizophrenic friend old enough to be my grandfather. He was one hell of a steel guitar player and we played in a few places around Austin with me backing him up on guitar. We had a good friendship. in a lot of ways I was the adult but in other ways every bit of his age and wisdom showed. One thing that was evident about his mental condition is that he really had no filter. I mean almost child-like sometimes. That will come in later. moving forward it was our routine to practice old country and western songs on Sundays. Later I would take him to lunch on my dime because he never had any money. One Sunday I took him to a then and now popular Vietnamese restaurant in Austin. I loaded up on a big bowl of Pho and didn’t think a thing of it. Why would I? Never had an issue before about a mile and a half away from the restaurant I could tell that something was wrong. something was definitely different here. I could feel my innards churning like the pre-Krakatoa moment. about a minute later and only halfway to taking him home I realized I was going to have to shit within the next two minutes. A lot can be said about making decisions under stress and duress.... The difficulty in staying clear and controlling your nerves & your body in high stress fight or flight situations. People train for this. i’ve come to realize that when you are about to shit yourself however you have an almost Buddha like total clarity. It’s like in the movie Limitless & the drug NZT featured therein. You see everything. You know exactly what to do & how to do it. You see your steps of action unfolding to avoid a miserable fate and you will always make the best decision. so while I’m driving I realize I’m not going to make it to his house. i’m not even going to make it one more minute. fast math in my head delivers 2 options. I have the keys to the restaurant I am managing at that time in my pocket. We are going to drive right past it. it’s a Sunday and they are closed. i’m going to have to unlock two doors and disable an alarm. that’s going to take ‘x’ long. across the street there is a gas station and there is only one door to unlock. That’s going to take ‘x-2’ long. pure vision. that’s the answer. I get a major reprieve when the men’s room is available & i hurry with the key out of the gas station. if it had been occupied I would’ve asked for the women’s key. If that had been occupied I would have just shit in the parking lot outside of the building. That’s exactly what this came down to. Fumbling at the door in complete and total panic I unlock it. As I am unlocking the door, if you would have put a piece of charcoal between my butt cheeks I would have handed you the Hope diamond. even those primordial deep earth pressures were not enough. A shart that would’ve been worthy of its own post on this thread alone got out before I even turned for the toilet. at this point physiology comes in to play. I never really thought about it but your ass muscles can only do two things. if you clinch that’s what they’re all doing. if you squat you relinquish your ability to clinch. It’s one or the other. Prior to this I had walked into public bathrooms very occasionally and I could never comprehend how there was shit on the wall. Seriously I could not wrap my head around it. Sacrificing my muscular ability to clench my butt cheeks with the compromise of squatting it all made perfect sense. when I made contact with the toilet seat I didn’t sit. I slid. at this point I just vacated into the toilet because I knew that I was fucked. might as well go with it and have a nice dump. As a then restaurant manager I know that you have to pay a bill at the end anyways. there was not one square of toilet paper left on the roll. Not one. No toilet paper in the entire room. when I got up I turned around and looked at the toilet. It was like the entire toilet had been placed on a dirt county road next to 2 foot deep mud-filled pothole next to it with regular semi truck traffic. Just... obliteration. Alright. my underwear were already toast so that was the first thing to go. My socks were completely negotiable to begin with so that was the next thing. as I spent the next ten minutes pushing my own shit around with my clothing I realize that still wasn’t going to cut it. At that point I sacrificed my undershirt which was a difference maker. somewhere in this process there was a banging on the door. My schizophrenic friend asking me in his southern drawl.... “Uh... mr. low crown you have been in there for a very long time” next I heard him talking outside of the door to somebody. “mr. low crown has been in there for a very very long time.” more knocking. i’m not sure what’s worse. The indignity of cleaning up your own shit with half of the clothes that you put on that day... or the fact that there was now an audience. I did the best I could and threw all of my clothes into the trashcan. The bathroom was absolutely the best that I could leave it. it was. I didn’t visit that convenient store for three months. then as now I feel like the best thing they could’ve done to that bathroom was just a light it on fire and start all over again.
  4. That’s fantastic 🤣 Yes. There are limits & a level of enshitment where clothing should just be written off. A lot of it involves environment & circumstance. I do have a story about how I had to surrender both socks, my underwear, and an undershirt in a gas station bathroom. Although it does take things a little further than the scope of this thread’s purpose, it did begin with a shart. I can tell the story if you would like but as you are the field commander of this thread I will defer to your judgment.
  5. What do you want? It’s a big drum HE washer & if one Tide pod can’t undo my indescretions on two articles of clothing what will? no arguments here
  6. Mother. Fucker. Again, all sharts are inherently rooted in deception. Seemed innocent enough on the ride home & I knew in that instant this one was going straight through to ink my pants. Maybe even the car seat. By the time I got home... Both. Waddled bow legged into the house with absolutely no dignity and straight into the downstairs guest bathroom to finish the job. I never use this bathroom. we had family in town the last few days and some godless fucker left the toilet paper roll completely empty with no back up after I had already blown mud. I guess if there is a lesson learned here it’s to check your supply first. After inspecting my boxer shorts and realizing they appeared to have been hit with an artistic touch from a squeeze bottle of Thai peanut dressing I thought to myself well just fuck it. So I used my own underwear to wipe my ass and then promptly threw everything into the washer. stay alert out there trust no one trust no fart Marfa out. God bless
  7. Voice to text It’s like relying upon an alcoholic friend or something who comes through just enough that you keep getting suckered in only to say, I should’ve just done that shit myself.
  8. For any of y’all who are as bad at math as I am
  9. Did someone record that on a flip phone?
  10. Does your wife have a sister who’s single?
  11. I thought of another one... This is a little over 20 years ago and I am working in restaurants. I had graduated massage therapy school probably six or seven months earlier and like the majority of massage school graduates, I didn’t end up doing it as an occupation. Waiting tables and freelance programming were paying the bills back then and offered an easier and less physically draining way to make money. It’s early on a dinner shift I’m working and two of the owners of the massage school come in and sit in my section. They remember me because I was a student not long ago and we exchange pleasantries. The whole chef craze thing is really taking off at this point in time, Iron Chef all that. Already I have seen the cold slap of reality hit people we have hired in the kitchen who have just graduated from chef school but never actually worked in restaurants before. I guess they didn’t really understand they would be scrubbing fryers, pulling up mats, and generally busting their asses a long time for low pay while being burdened with significant student debt from chef school. An awful lot of them didn’t make it. I guess this was all in my 20-something brain because it’s the only explanation for the shit that came out of my mouth next... The owners asked me if I was doing massage therapy and I said no. That really should have been the end of it but.... “No, I decided not to pursue massage therapy although it’s still a great skill to have. It’s kind of like a lot of these new kitchen people we have (gesturing to the open kitchen & people behind the line). Take this chef craze going on right now for example. Most of these students coming out of school right now have underestimated the grind & physically draining nature of the job. A lot of them won’t even be doing this a year from now. There are easier & more lucrative ways to make money than this and the people who are really profiting are the ones who own the chef schools. Kind of like massage therapy.”. They ate quickly in general silence and never came back again.
  12. It’s my first week at my current job and I’m still meeting people. My friend is talking to one of the forklift drivers and it’s noisy but as I’m walking up to them I ‘hear’ the driver say, “My wife (loud crash in warehouse) going on 10 years tomorrow.”. Thinking he is talking about their upcoming 10 year anniversary I say, “Oh, congratulations!”. My friends face goes blank & his jaw drops. The driver gives me a cockeyed look and says, “Congratulations?”. My friend is staring at me with his eyes wide open and I’m starting to get confused. I said, “Yeah, you said you & your wife are going on ten years tomorrow.”. His face expressionless he says, “No, she’s been gone 10 years tomorrow.”. there is an awkward silence which my friend breaks by saying, “Awwwkward.”. Even though it was an innocent mistake I still just wanted to crawl away.
  13. Whole Foods DP line of produce? 🤷‍♀️
  14. Man down. Broke the seal on 2021 last night but thank god I was by myself. It noticed it was a hot fart but it felt innocent enough. I didn't realize I'd greased one until I got up and felt that all too familiar slick between the butt cheeks as I walked. Went upstairs to calculate the damage and found this one stained the pants too. Be careful out there.
  15. It makes me wonder if he cooked his meals or guarded him while he slept.
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