When Nature Calls and Toilets Stall

Last night, my subconscious gifted me with the type of dream that's simultaneously hilarious and traumatizing. Picture this: I'm back in high school (already terrifying), stuck in history class, when suddenly my abdomen starts sending some pretty aggressive SOS signals. We're talking anywhere from mild discomfort to "Houston, we have a problem."

It's clear this is more than just a simple bathroom break. This is a full-blown, "brace yourself" scenario. So I sprint out—well, it's more of a panic-induced jog—to the nearest bathroom. It’s a perfect sunny day outside, but inside me? A storm was brewing.

I burst into the bathroom, hope gleaming in my eyes, only to find both stalls occupied. Of course they were—because dreams are never easy. Now, desperation inspires creativity, so my eyes land on the lonely urinal. "Could I? Should I?" Too late—I had no choice.

Friends, let me tell you, that was a life-changing experience. Ever dropped a turd in a urinal? Me neither—until now. It was oddly liberating, weirdly exhilarating, and by far the largest production my body has ever delivered. Honestly, it overflowed, spilling out like some messed-up ice cream machine.

Just as I'm admiring this catastrophic masterpiece, footsteps approach. Panic mode activated: I leap to the sink, washing my hands as if hygiene is my lifelong passion, trying desperately to radiate innocence. As people walked in, I casually moonwalked out, cool as a cucumber.

Then, boom—I woke up.

What profound wisdom did I gain from this dream, you ask? Well, simple:

Always have a backup plan when nature calls, and toilets fail you.

You're welcome.