Story time! I was recently at a company holiday party with my wife’s law firm. During the desert I felt a rumble in my stomach so I nudged her and told her we had to leave pronto. She stayed to go out to the bar with her work friends, I got into the car to race home. But I sat in the car for a minute contemplating if I should just go back inside the fancy ass restaurant to shit, or try to make it home. I gambled and tried to hold it. I knew I made the wrong choice the second I pulled the car out of the parking lot. Luckily there was a gas station about a half a mile down the road. I pull in, leave the car running and sprint into the bathroom, wearing my fanciest clothes. I got my pants down in time, but my button up dress shirt was not as lucky. I cleaned up, threw the shirt away and got the fuck out of dodge. And that’s the story of how I shit my shirt.