Horror On The Jersey Turnpike.

Diarrhea. Even the word sounds disgusting. Pair it up with a six hour car ride from New Jersey to Upstate New York. Complete Entrapment. And when it hits you there is no stopping it. You know the feeling. It starts with your stomach rumbling, speaking to you, desperately trying to warn you that something utterly horrifying is on its way to your colon. You pass it off as gas, neglecting the signs as you fart toward your impending doom. I entered the car in my comfiest jeans and all of my snacks lined up, iPod set to the perfect tunes, ready for an easy ride back upstate. Forty five minutes pass. I start to feel an urge, but think i'll be able to control it. Thirty more seconds pass and i feel my face begin to heat up. Ten more and i am sweating. Five more and i am screaming at my mother to pull over. I grab a handful of tissues from my purse and make a mad dash for a tree-laden embankment a few yards ahead. Unbuttoning my jeans as i run i, devise my defecation plan. When i finally reach a spot where i will be well hidden i drop down into crab stance and kick off my jeans. that's when i let it go. i let it all go. It kept coming for what felt like forever before i finally finished. Cleaning my hands with a bottle of travel mouth wash i got back into the car, one giant crap released, and in its place, an incredible story.