While waiting for our meals (Frisco Melt ftw), my ex-drummer Brian dared me to eat one of those little green pepper that are in the glass jars. They looked spicy but I didn't give a fuck, I've eaten spicier before (ie. don't eat habaneros). My fingers were either too husky to fit in the neck of the jar or that all the peppers were too far down in the jar to grab or a combination of both, only a fortunate few will ever know. With a stroke of ingenuity (barely), I use a knife to attempt to scoop a pepper out of the jar, kinda like if it were a ketchup bottle with the asshole ketchup not coming out.
Why a fork wasn't used to just stab a few peppers out, my faggot brain did not think of this.
Anyways, I tilted the jar more and more horizontal to get a pepper on the knife. Focused on the actually peppers and knife, I was not, however, focused on the vinegar content of the jar. The vinegar level became to high, resulting in most of the vinegar pouring into my lap Young Frankenstein style. The toxic vinegar soaked through my pants, onto my twig & berries, torturing my balls into agony. I swear for that moment, I thought I heard my dick actually screaming in pain.
Not only did my junk burn from the liquid pepper spray, it smelled horrible. I awkward walked to the restroom (again) and tried my best to clean myself up. I stopped the searing pain on my drive shaft and ball bearings (which was good for me). I did not accomplish to eliminate the pungent smell of the spicy vinegar (which was not good for everyone else on the car ride home).
Next time somebody dares me anything, I'll use a forking fork.
1 comment:
thank you for blessing the world with your amazing stories
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