FML: The Goddess, Explosive Diarrhea, and (not so smart) Smartphone

 (I originally was going to post this at fmylife.com but it exceeded the character limit.)

Today was easily the most embarrassing day of my absolutely pathetic life. It all started a few weeks ago when the girl of my dreams added me on Facebook. That was the happiest day of my absolutely pathetic life. I guess she only added me because she is super popular and gets added by a ton of people - she probably didn't even notice that she added the biggest dork in high school. I have only 3 friends on FB and I met them in this game we play called Rakion. So now I have 3 fellow nerdlings and the love of my life on my friend list. She has her cell number listed on her profile so I decided to add her on my cell phone's contacts list and don't even get me started on how it never rings. My fingers literally trembled as I inputted the digits of her number. Please don't laugh, but I gaze at her number every single day, fantasizing that she and I would chat on the phone like lovers. One time, I even hit call but hung up before it could ring. Fast forward to this afternoon when shit begins, both figuratively and literally. It is 3 PM and I am having the time of my life. I’m sitting on the toilet with a bad case of explosive diarrhea, absolutely certain that it is caused by the greasy jumbo donair I had delivered to my house last night. I feel completely nauseated and just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, I hear a small, tinny sound. Pausing, I attempt to hold my liquid shit in while straining to hear the sound again. I could have sworn it sounded like a very faint voice speaking. My heart jumps as realization dawns on me – it seems to be coming from my freaking cell phone. I quickly pulled out the phone and in my panic, let out a huge wet fart in the process. I am so light-headed at this point, teetering perilously towards unconsciousness. I take a deep breath without thinking, filling my nostrils with the worst smell I ever let out - and that, unfortunately, is a real challenge. Quite embarrassed, I close my eyes now, wishing on a wishing star that this was not happening to me. Finally, I slowly raise the phone. The voice this time is much louder and it is definitely from my phone. I cannot avoid it any longer and open my eyes to glance at the Caller ID. It is the love of my life, the girl of my dreams, the goddess who doesn’t even know I exist. My first thought was this is all some freakish nightmare. As I helplessly let out another wet fart, my senses come back to me. My smartphone is pocketed in my tight jeans, which was pressed hard against my thighs. My elbow is also leaning against my jeans as I was loosing hell from my buttocks. Her cell phone number is at the top of my contacts list since she was the last person I had “called.” Somehow, my awkward arrangement on the toilet triggered the phone’s keypad and executed a simple function: my smartphone, which runs Windows Mobile, allows you to call the last person you spoke with by simply hitting the talk button twice. FML.