“We didn’t start the fire” … in Large’s colon

Took the wife to see Billy Joel at Shea Stadium last week because I am old and I’m white, and that’s what we do. Lots to talk about, so lets get started.

First off, Billy Joel sounds great but looks fucking terrible. He’s very compact and sweaty, and even though his proficiency on a piano is unquestionable, it’s amazing that he’s able to pull off intricate melodies with those grubby little hands of his. He really is built like a fucking Hobbit. I would even put him up there as a candidate for “What The Fuck?- Wednesday”, but I don’t think that son-of-a-bitch was ever attractive.

That being said, he was married to Christie Brinkley, is currently married to some little piece-of-ass 30 years his junior, and he even dated Elle Macpherson for a brief stint when she was only 19 years-old (he was 33). Truth be told, I would rather have skipped the whole fucking concert and opt to see some of this cocksman’s home videos.

He had a handful of surprise performers, including 87 year-old Tony Bennett singing “New York State of Mind”, and were I a betting man I’d would bet my house Bennett outlives The Piano Man.

John Mayer was another one of Joel’s surprise guests… he played guitar during one of the slow songs. And although I could give a fuck less about Mayer or Joel, you gotta respect the scattered ass these two have left in their collective wake… Jessica Simpson, Christie Brinkley, Jennifer Anniston, Elle Macpherson, Jennifer Love Hewitt, etc.

Beautiful night weather-wise, but I forgot just how much of a dump Shea Stadium is. The new place they are building next door looks great, but the obvious dichotomy between the old and new Shea really drives home how Met fans have been paying good money to go to what is essentially a modified tool shed to watch their team play since the early 70’s.

And I really fucked myself with the pre-concert plans. My wife and I met 3 other couples for dinner at a German restaurant in Queens. I had been to this shit-hole at least a half-dozen times before, but haven’t been in a decade or so. I order everything on the menu, and wash it down with a couple of those Weiss-beers. As soon as I step outside of the restaurant, I get hit with a wave of that Summer-time-late-day-mugginess, and I start to swell up like a tick. We pile into a couple of Gypsy cabs, and I can slowly feel everything that I just ingested start to move South.

You and I, face to face, in our favorite German restaurant…

We get to the show and I’m waiting on the beer-line just minutes before the concert is scheduled to start, and my saint of a wife asks, “What’s wrong? Your top lip is covered in sweat, and your as pale as a ghost.”

And then I level with her, and say, “Honey, I feel like there’s a sleeve of hot golf balls in my rectum, and I’m starting to feel some anxiety about dropping wolf-bait in this dump with all these fucking people around.”

“Ladies and gentleman… Long Island’s own… Billy Joel!” blares across the loudspeaker, and everyone rushes in to the arena. I let my wife and friends go without me, and I wait outside of the Men’s Room as I watch the last couple of stragglers rush out to see the beginning of the show. Went in to one of the stalls and wiped the place down as much as I can.

— SIDEBAR — I gotta be honest, the bathroom wasn’t nearly as disgraceful as I had envisioned, but you’d have to think I wouldn’t be so lucky if I was at the “Monsters of Rap” tour… I’m just saying.–

Anyhoo, I sit down, begin dumping, and immediately notice the crack in the door– the one between the side of the door that locks, and the wall it locks into– has a half-inch gap. Now normally a half-inch doesn’t mean much (That’s what she said!), but I’m telling you, no less than 10 guys looked into the stall through that fucking crack while I was dumping. And to top it all off, I had a hissing steam pipe above my head that concentrated so much heat, that I felt like I was having a movement at a bus station in Laos.

I clean up and go back to my seat just as the third song was starting, and I immediately standup, turn around, and head back to that same bathroom for round 2… That German place should be brought up on charges after the horrors it inflicted on my colon. I spent the first third of the concert losing weight.

But this time I am a little wiser, so I take a 4 foot strip of that cardboard’ish hand-towel out of the dispenser, and tuck it into the door crack, creating a virtual “shit curtain”, which leaves me with a modicum of privacy in the tumultuous climes of Shea Stadium’s Loge Men’s Room. I felt so much better, that I actually took my shirt off to combat the heat from the ever present steam pipe that loomed overhead.

And a buddy of mine made a good point… You know why we have less and less privacy in our public bathroom stalls? Homosexuals, that’s why. They spent so much time in public restrooms destroying each other’s pails, and now we all have to pay for it. I just wish the gays would all just get together and make a conscious effort to own vans. That way, they can fire into each other with reckless abandon, and we’d all be none the wiser. Shit, they could probably fit a SOLOFLEX in the van also, just so they can stay in shape on the road.

One last thing, one of the guys in my “posse” had seen Billy Joel in concert 38 times previous to that show. He wore this accomplishment like a badge of honor, but I found it to be stalker-ish and downright creepy. And the creepiness is probably augmented by the fact that this particular individual is A) A big fan of Sarah Jessica Parker, and B) Has a thick pelt of hair covering his entire body… So you basically have a gigantic, hairy Italian man who watches Sex & The City while wearing a concert t-shirt from the Glass Houses Tour in ’76.

That’s the type of crowd I roll with, I guess.

90 Replies to ““We didn’t start the fire” … in Large’s colon”

  1. Although this entry was somewhat disturbing, I am on the floor dying, laughing my ass off. I have had many-oh-nights in public where a restaurant has interupted my digestive system. You know, one of those dumpy restaurants that makes you feel like you have a Pentium 4 processor in your ass?

    Anyway Large, you once again have come strong to the table with this one….although I do think we could have done without the picture of your Italian Wookie buddy in the buff!

  2. Where to begin.

    Your vivid description of your colonic adventures were very accurate and I got the sweat-lip and anil-pucker just from reading them.

    Been there.

    Any port in the storm, they say, especially the hew-mohs.

  3. literally laughed out loud so hard my COO came over and questioned what was so funny about WB’s #’s.

    The NYSE guys will tell you they have the “Shit Curtain” down to a science. I’ll let them chime in on that.

    J Mayer, even though he crushes sick ass should be stoned in the middle of washington sq park if you ask me. Who the fk buys his shit? B Joel, even though I was a fan growing up…all us LI guys felt we had to be is a troll & has the same Tom Cruise spell over his 19yr old wife. Why is it ok for him to be married to a child but not the mormon’s….he can take a big report right in his troll dime

  4. What can I say….lousy markets, hot as hell outside (and how come there aren’t more little hotties walkin’ around in summer dresses these days)…yet Large always delivers – just enough to get me thru one more day without having to drive off the tappan zee bridge. Solid post.

  5. Again, we need to publish a 5 borough public shitter guide…a Zagat for us poor sob’s that cant hold anything in for more than 8 min after the check comes….

  6. John Mayer’s cock has lived a charmed life. I should have learned to play the guitar.

    Consider “sleeve of hot golf balls” stolen. It’s gross and poetic and funny all at the same time.

    I’m looking forward to some good homo tirades.

    I noticed that there was a gaggle of them who braved a bar in my small town on Friday night. I was more confused than judgmental or angry or annoyed. I always wonder how they figure out that they can infiltrate somewhere. Do they send recognizance in a (borrowed) baseball cap and football jersey? I’m picturing their version of Sal Tessio (“Gaybe Vigoda”?) giving the run-down. “Good place, low-fat food. Everyone minds their own business. Great appletinis. It’s perfect for us.”

  7. I second the “Shitter Zagat” that Eternal Bear suggests! Maybe Large can have a link here on the TAR home that the “regs” can post where the good porcelain stops are here in the City and surrounding burroghs!

  8. love the picture…Paul Prudhomme, Sean Lennon, Frank Quattrone, Baby fuckin Huey in the white slacks, and what’s Billy Joel doing giving the Fonzi “Hey” while the lead singer from STYX is about to lay pipe?

  9. When i got here i had no idea why the fuck there was toilet paper hanging from the doors, Shit Curtains i was told. As a guy who shit in a bag for 8 months i was so “happy” when i would go out to dinner or events, all i had to do was take the bag off put on a new one , fresh as a daisy. Large you may want to consider a colostomy bag, you lose alot of reading time , but never have the feeling of Laos bus depot, with a sleeve of golf balls up your ass (very funny)

  10. Large, I guess what you are saying is that Billy Joel and John Mayer gather different results from their weiner shnitzel than you?

  11. At least the door locked….why cant i ever find a sh**er with a reliable lock….i feel like if someone turns on that hand dryer my door is going to blow wide open exposing my “goodies”

  12. Paul Prudhomme and Frank Quattrone? Shit, I just fell off my chair. This picture must have been before BJ thought he might marry this chick. It’s like he’s this little fuck just saying to himself, “Self, if this gangbang goes down you better get in the front-row, this is the closest you might ever be to a hot piece of ass.”

  13. well i know one of the worst bathrooms is Keans Chop house, my knees where by my ears , tight QTRS. Helmsy Hotel pretty good, private stalls, Tao is terrible, i get the feeling the attendant is sizing up your cock

  14. Rothman’s on 54th has a single shot that locks right by the coat check. I’ve spackled that bowl DOZENS of times only to walk out and see a line of chicks absolutely disgusted when the get a whiff of what i just laid down and see me sweating like i just ran a 6k. Rothman’s is top 5 in my book.

  15. Had a similar experiance during a giants game. Restaurant that blew me up was STEVES SIZZILIN STEAKS in Jerz…I used napkins to wipe my ass, and i think there was a ketchup packet involved…

    List the pre-event restaurants that dominate you, so we can all stear clear..

  16. I could have survived without seeing the pic of the guy from Borat.

    I once walked into a college bar bathroom and two dudes were kicking around one of Fatty’s used bags like a soccer ball and laughing their asses off. Animals.

    What’s up with the slope on Billy Joel’s left? Opium dealer?

  17. My roommate from college used to call them the dump sweats. = When you sweat from the upper lip and brow because tightening your sphinkter to hold in the lava golf balls is physically extering. Plus you’re nervious if there isnt a single shot shitter nearby.

  18. The preemptive Immodium is a staple for sporting events, offshore trips, etc… I would think Large would know better

  19. An instant classic!! I know that German Jernt and I never had those issues. Must have gone down hill. Keep up the good work.

  20. Brinkley needs to quit throwing stones at her husband for watching porn, no question at least 3 of those guys shot on her feathered hair that night.

  21. Wow, the picture of that last guy is really incredible. I mean, it’s a real keeper a guy like that. Almost as good as finding a live unicorn.

  22. cheese…that pre-emptive immodium has backfired on me several times. so now i just go in blind and hope for the best…usually i’m the guy sprinting for the korean deli hoping to god they say yes, which of course they never do then it’s to a mc donalds or a sbux…like i’ve posted in the past…the suburban guys have it easy they can just walk in back of the strip mall they’re in, King Kullen, Waldbaum’s etc and just drop trow behind the dumpster…some of my best deuces have been left behind some of LI’s bars…plus you’re getting fresh air on your sack whilst you lose your dinner….very underated.

  23. The un-official end of Summer is when Billy wraps a $100k car around a tree in the Hamptons. Anyone want to start a pool.. August 28 is my date.

  24. My 5th wedding anniversary went to B&B in Spring Lake, earlier in the day we bought 1500 wings to the INTC pit i had my share. Fast foward to dinner at Rods that nevening Gin n Tonic stuffed trout, and i had a bead of sweat rolling down my cheek. Rods has no doors on the John, sped to home to the BnB got up to the 3rd floor put the key in the door, and asi f moses parted the Red Sea, i shit all over my self as i fell thru the door looking up i see Champagne bottle / strawberrie and bubbles my wife had planned.. spen the next hour cleaning myself and bathroom, plus looking for a place to get rid of my clothes

  25. Fatty….it takes a real man to admit that. I shat myself on the way home from Burton & Doyle in G. Neck. The poor driver in the car hit traffic on the BQE…made him pull over in williamsburg with a hand full of those good for nothing kleenex tissues they keep in the back….threw out every stitch of clothing i had on that night

  26. fatty – I am dying over your story. Nice work. The women’s bathroom in Rod’s is clean and private. you guys get shafted.

  27. Eternal Bear, you read my mind, there is nothing, repeat nothing worse that laying napalm in a one seater and seeing a bevvy of tuna outside waiting to get in. The looks of disgust on their faces as the waves of rotten egg like odor rushes out as you make your exit are priceless.

    In terms of best shitters, hotels are always strong, usually offering multiple seaters and fairly good ventilation. I also find that Starbucks are pretty clean and usually not too crowded.

  28. between the gays and the junkies, it’s no wonder most of the stalls in town are closed to the public. maybe this was the real reason AIDS was invented.

  29. EB somehow it got on my shirt as well, threw out every article. Scary one also was drinking Jamesons at Marc Josephs, woke up at the Highlands ferry with puke all over me and a pint glass full of puke ( didnt spill a drop) got out ripped my shirt off , drove home. I would laugh to myself evryday i passed that shirt in the lot

  30. That’s why I courtesy flush. It’s the only fail-safe from pugent, noxious smells of foul schmoo. Eternal….just use the bathroom downstairs at Rothman’s.

  31. best i know is a guy who was laying cable in a grand central stall years ago, all the stalls had the seats torn off, he’s too drunk to stand so while he is holding his pant legs up from the flood of water and urine on the floor, and doing a spoon to “freshen up”, some black dude comes piling in right past me, and kicks the stall door my buddy is leaning forward in MID PINCH, the door slams into his head, HARD and knocks him into a bowl full of HIS and other dudes coiled snake…finest i ever saw…and walking thru midtown with him post cable guy…priceless

  32. Back in college…St. Pattys day weekend. Wake up at my girlfriends in total emergency mode. I beg her to drive me home, but her and her housemates are having an AM bloody mary party. I can’t wait anymore, and go in and just kill it in the bathroom right off the party room. You could hear a pin drop after the initial explosion. It was just awful, just a thin door separating me and my awful ass from about 20-25 mostly hot girls. Beaten and defeated, my girlfriend gives me a ride to my house. Feeling safe now, I go to pass some gas in the car, big mistake, nothing major but a bit messy. I walk into my house and hear a couple of my roomates talking in the kitchen. I walk in announcing my embarrassing adventure not realizing they were sitting w/ some skags from the night before. Perfect end to a perfect morning.

  33. As to prove the irony of life, I just returned from spraying a Monet on stall # 2 at my shop to read this post. Had to do the Weeble walk to the head given my sneaking suspicion that I had sharted. Sure as tampons like the dark, the same gal on my floor saw both my entry to and exit from the shidder, separated by a solid 10 minutes. Mummified Egyptian cat shit smelled better than the can she had to walk by. I think I’ve hurt my chances…

  34. killer night- that poor f-ing mens room stall! Also – not to be a prick – but what the hell- GLASS HOUSES was released in 1980…

    [I used to believe that I was a great romancer…]

  35. EB,

    Fingers extended, knees locked and a little side-to-side wobble. For some unknown anatomical reason, I find weebling on one’s toes helps lock the spincter down for those critical last steps to paydirt…

  36. Buddy of mine in college ate some hot wings at this joint where they make you sign a release form to eat them. He eats them and takes his free t-shirt and proceeds to Marble Slab where he tries about 5 scoops of different ice cream to take the sting off his tongue. None of them work. About 2-3 hours of misery later, he asks my wife what he can do to get it out of him as quickly as possible. She recommends milk of magnesia so he takes someand sits around about 30 minutes. Nothing happens so he goes and picks up his girlfriend to head to some party and it hits him as soon as she gets in the car. He swerves over the median to the McD’s across the street, runs in the bathroom only to find a dude passed out in his own puke in the lone stall. He knew a fat chick just walked in the ladies’ room so he does the only thing he can and blasts into the urinal on the wall. He said shit was everywhere. While he’s hangin there, the passed out guy’s buddy comes in and sees him and just starts laughing his ass off. Picks the dude up off the floor so my buddy goes in the stall to finish up. Had to cut off his boxers and went commando the rest of the night. He said his GF didn’t say a word to him when he got back in the car.

  37. guys. . I am sitting at my desk crying laughing and literally just got screamed at by my boss for not paying attention to an order…

    between the post and the comments. . this is by fat hth funniest thread I have read since I started reading…

    Large.. . you have truly missed your calling…

  38. Best strain of comments in weeks, possibly months. good stuff guys.

    By the way, am I mistaken or does this hairy beast have the dimples above his ass that so many of you love so much?

  39. Stopped at a Wendy’s on a family trip once and it hits a cousin of mine. Mad dash to the bathroom right as my brother locks the stall door, mocking him. I’m at the urinal so all he can do is back up to the trash can. It was one of those trash cans that are recessed into the wall, so needless to say, he missed some. Dad walks in just in time to see the end of the explosion. Cuz had shit on every article of clothing. They didn’t make it out of that bathroom. I feel sorry for the janitor that had to clean that shit. Wouldn’t surprise me if he walked in and right back out and quit on the spot.

  40. Few years back, I am at the Giants- Eagles Monday night game at that shit hole in Jersey….wacking back beers and hogies in the parking lot. As I started my way into the game…I start to feel some funky shit going on in my gut. By the time i get into the stadium…I am clinching so hard my eyes were popping out of my head. I run into the first bathroom I see and I am headed at the only stall that was open, when this PR guy steps in front of me to tell me the stall was out of order…I basically pushed him out of the way to get into the can…barely had my pants down when an explosion came out of my ass. I blew shat all over the toilet seat….the back wall, the floor…it was the worst thing I ever experienced…and the whole time this PR guy is cursing me outside the stall. I cleaned myself up…reached in my pocket and grabbed $20…on my way out ..handed the twenty to this poor sole…and said I was sorry…I still feel bad for that mother f*cker…I destroyed that stall.

  41. Once when I was playing golf at my buddies high brow club – had a bad sandwich at the turn which didn’t sit well. Pulled the broker schwag towel off my bag and fertilizer spryed a patch behind a cluster of bushes on the back nine. When I came back, the caddy jokingly asked for the towel back. Told my buddy on the way home – never was invited back.

  42. you know that Sasquatch is so hairy that I bet he has dingleberry’s that have petrified through the years. there’s no way he gets in a clean wipe

  43. I have had numerous s–t attacks (known as Trombus Attacks) at Shea. After a few years of suffering the same fate as Large, I learned that your best bet is to go up to the level where the Diamond Club is and walk through the double doors (unguarded) leading to the private boxes. The bathrooms on that “private level” are cleaner than the ones in your Aunt Connie’s apartment. I could have eaten off the floor.

  44. funny a$$ story, sweaty upper lip, long island morons going to see billy joel, shit curtain, and of course the german food…

    btw large you didnt happen to drink any Hefeweizens, did you?
    i spent some time in munich, attempting to live like the locals, i ate weisswurst (looks like a bratwurst) and drank Hefeweizen for the first week… the second week i musta shit 40 times…
    hefeweizen + pork fat = colon cleanse

  45. Brilliant stuff today Large and company. Shits and farts never get old – only better. John mayer is a douche. Gets the hottest women but offsets that by being way too in love with himself.

  46. Buddy of mine on new years a few years back is hammered in the city, also indulging in some extracurriculars, blacks out, loses everybody hes with, and comes to at 5 am sprinting to the bathrooms downstairs in grand central, doesnt have a chance tho and shits himself in the middle of the food court, gets in a stall to clean up, throws out his boxers and cleans up as best he can, pulls up his egg-white khakis and opens the door just as round 2 goes right through him, strips naked in the stall and starts puking at the smell as he desperately tries to clean out the shirt and especially the khakis he had absolutely destroyed, really nothing he can do at this point tho so just gets on a crowded new years morning train back to CT stained and reeking of shit, said he cleared out an entire car on metro north 10 minutes into the trip

  47. EB… never really understood the whole shit curtain thing….does that 1/4 gap really bother guys that much that they have to take the time to drape the TP down the side. That disgrace of a bathroom across from the QT room was notorious for that….those f-ing animals

  48. alltheanswers:

    I believe your referring to Cluck U, 911 version. Never had the 911, but the Atomic flavor are the best wings I’ve ever had.

    I’m always on the lookout for some quality wing establishments along the mid-atlantic states, any thoughts boys?

  49. In college my buddy was banging a girl in the 2 hole. She sht all over him. At the sight of all the shit, he vomited on her. She then vomited on him from being puked on. The guy made a sharpe movement from getting puked on and threw her off the top bunk of a freshmen dorm bunk bed. She falls off and breaks her leg and goes to the hospital coverd in puke and sht. True Story.

  50. Ok, a trader to be named later and the Shpinc are in Las Vegas up all night duh, and we have a July T Time of 7am…needless to say, by about the 7th hole it is fuckin nathtay hot, and i look from where i’m getitng ready to hit in the rough and my buddy, real golfer, is using a golf towel to wipe his legs…yes, a total fuckin brownout and we decide to quit after nine holes…but wait , there;s more…the nasty towel is in the little wire cage that holds shit in the back of a golf cart, and when we get to the clubhouse, being LV, the caddie wannabees come running up to clean your clubs for tips…and they load the clubs in the limo to the hotel…but the enterprising pleebe says “sir sir, you forgot your towel”, holding it up when he realizes its this putrified liquishit dripping off, as he’s holding it with two fingers like a tweezer… to which Adam says “that’s ok kid, you keep it” and shuts the limo door…nice.

  51. Pirate,

    Brother of mine also hitting the Duece Door of a pretty little co-ed. She passes out, he pulls away and notices what looks to be a shite ball on the end his unit. But wait. Its not a shite ball at all. Its an undigested lima bean.

    I don’t make the news, I just report it…

  52. ok one more than i’m done. On ride in one day while i had the bag i pull into the Shop Rite to illegally park (yes trying to save 10 bucks), as i get a whiff of shit i know i got a leak. Sure enough its all over my shorts and shirt. I get out of the car shirt off and my intestine hanging out the guy who monitors the lot is looking at me and i say to him can i help you”, he just fucking drives away

  53. My college roommate was banging his girlfriend reverse cowboy in the dark hole. She rode up too high and his dick snapped back like a sling shot and pelted his face with some loose shit. Said girl never looked back but it took everything in him not to puke. Wiped it with the blanket and continued on.

  54. I learned a long time ago you never pick up another man’s golf towel, especially in the woods. It’s there for a reason. I can’t believe the guy kept it the cart with him.

  55. One college summer I was banging the commodore’s niece of the club I was working at, got blacked and banged her in his bed while he was away. Woke up the next morning and saw a huge deuce under a chair, realized there was no dog, then realized that the wicker chair it was under had been punched through. Make your our toilet; never spoke to her again.

  56. Yuo guys are pros…….I did get an attack on a whale-watching boat off Vancouver, which had a toilet seat as big as a large bagel. While I managed to hit the target, the challenge was in the ‘no objects to be flushed’ rule, which mandated that all toilet paper be deposited in the little waste basket in front of me. Needless to say, after 3 trips, I filled that fucker, and it stayed full for the other 35 passengers on board that day.

  57. Shit – I’m 33 and I’ve seen him a dozen times so I guess I am an old white man too? I’ll answer that myself since the only person I have seen more is Jimmy Buffett and I know that makes me old and white, yet I try to offset it by having a tattoo of a salt shaker, lime wedge and palm tree on my upper arm (lacrosse sticks are on other arm and setting sun is on the small of my back).

    Friday night concert….. Garth Brooks, Tony Bennett again, Roger Daultry singing My Generation, Steven Tyler playing Guitar Hero but for real, and Paul McCartney straight off the plane. Only Billy could pull off a list of that. He ain’t pretty, but he gets the job done. I’m an impartial Long Islander, but that was the best concert I have ever seen and I’d argue he’s the greatest songwriter possibly in history.

    Beat Army!

  58. you are back to your glory days with this post.

    John Mayer has gotten with Cameron Diaz and Hedi Klum…..for those keeping score at home.

  59. DON KING – agreed, the classic Large post seems to stem from nights on the town. Here I am saying this 90 comments in…..whoopee.

  60. Angry Pirate- Sorry but that is a story from the Tucker Max book. good one though.

    [Can anyone confirm this charge?]

  61. Tucker Max did write a story about his first time doing anal with his girlfriend at the time. Took her out for a $400 dinner at a posh seafood restaurant in Miami that imported sod to walk on between booths and tables (I think it was called Grass or something clever like that). Got drunk and feasted on seafood, then went home to end both their anal virginities. Was so psyched he had his buddy hiding in closet filming the whole thing. First time doing anal, he didn’t realize 4oz of Astroglide should last a year, so he used half the bottle. He lubed up so much, he essentially gave her an enema, which he realized when he pulled out after a few thrusts and had the nastiest smelling brown slick of shit all over his dick. Puked on her back, which made her puke, which made his friend fall out of closet puking. Girl left with the comforter and he never spoke to her again. An interesting break-up….. and by far Tucker’s best story. Someone had me read that one and it was enough to buy the book. I was disappointed that it was the best story of all and the first one I read – so all the others kind of sucked.

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