Why does shit seem to always happen so quick? In the car, on the very first date with this chick. I drank last night, now I’m feeling kinda sick. She pulls down the visor starts putting on lipstick, but I just let one rip… it, slipped, I think I’m about to have the blow shits! Oh no, I’m about to have the blow shits. Fighting this battle, but it’s not alone, even though I’d rather be in my home. This shit fuckin stinks, I now I think she knows! I’m about to have the blow shits, oh no! It’s a case of the blow shits.