Nah, but I got some real stuff to add.
Best: Engaged to my girlfriend, yada, yada... True love... Blah, blah, blah.
WARNING!: ****ty story ahead.
Worst: So there I was at Popeye's working, right? And I had made a joke when I clocked in saying that I would soon rather **** my pants then clock out. Because I was trying to leave a good impression and not seem like a lazy jerk-off or anything. And so there I was clenching my butt cheeks as if I was in a dark alley with your mother's sister's illegitimate 20-year-old son from Peru.
And I learned something that day... When you repeatedly shove your bowel movement back up your *** it continually gets digested. So after the fourth time, it had become a liquid and I could no longer clench it. For you see, it isn't possible to clench a liquid substance with your butt cheeks unless you have an *** of steel.
Half way to the bathroom the damage had been done. I spent the next fourty five minutes wiping my leg. That's right. I didn't even need to wipe my *** because there was nothing in there. It was on my leg. It got in my shoes. During the entire event I was actually already in the process of repressing that memory and it had not even become the past yet. It felt like a dream. It still does. I can't believe that **** happened but yes... it literally did.
Don't clench. Go to the bathroom!