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#1 (permalink) |
Baffled
Location: West Michigan
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Have you ever shat yourself?
This may not be the correct forum but given the thread about sharing the bathroom with your SO, I think it's appropriate. With the amount of traffic in General vs. Sexuality, I'm a bit more comfortable posting here.
Hubby went to South Africa very early Sat. morning. We had to get up at 2:45 in the morning to make it to his work for him to meet the co-worker he was traveling with. Now, on any normal day, I usually have a BM twice within the first hour and a half of waking up. I typically wake-up around 8:30 am. Getting up around 6 hrs. earlier than usual, I hadn't even thought that my body would stick to it's routine. We got ready on double-time, loaded his luggage and were off to his work (an hours drive away). About 50 mins. into the drive I started to feel the tell-tale signs that a dump was going to be immanent. I started paying attention to the road, looking for a 24 hr. place that I could stop at on the way back home---nothing. We get to within 3 or 4 mins. of Hubbies industrial park and the horribly bumpy road (it is winter in Michigan!) is making the problem worse. I then realize that I am going to need a bathroom very quickly and ask Hubby if he has keys to the office. He does but does not have the code to disable the alarm system. We pull in to his work and he says I should just go so I can find a place to use the bathroom. He's going overseas for three weeks and I can't stay with him until his co-worker gets there because of my bowels. Shit. No pun intended. I back out, wave good-bye, and pull out of the lot and onto the main drive. As I accelerate, I suddenly feel things start to roil down below. I passed a few driveways and still was thinking I had time to find a restroom. No. Suddenly (and I mean suddenly), it became a Cheech and Chong "stay together cheeks" moment. Alas, the cheeks wouldn't obey. I actually, despite my most desperate clenching, felt a substance start to leak. I whipped left into the driveway immediately in front of me and another hard left into the first handicapped spot by this companies front door. Despite the leakage in process, I was so mortified by the coming prospect that I staved off getting out of the car and actually opened the glove box to look for napkins (yanked it of it's hinges is more accurate). In my car there is an inch thick pile of napkins. In Hubbies car, after literally (and frantically) swiping an air-pressure guage, insurance folder and oil-change receipts out of the way, I felt one napkin (it was dark, around 4:00 in the morning, thus no light). I grasped it and jumped out of the car. At this point there were no rational thought processes happening, strictly biological. I whipped down my jeans and proceeded to defecate in the snow next to my (open) car door. Even though there was no one there to witness it, it was one of the most embaressing things that has ever happened to me. Because of the "leaking" before I exited the car, the one measly napkin I had was not nearly sufficient. I'm squatting, breathing in exaust fumes, and knowing my Hubbies co-worker is going to drive by any second to pick him up, therefore I had to scoot (again, no pun intended!). On eye level was the only possible solution, a Micky D's bag behind the drivers seat. I grabbed it and having no other choice, retrieved a napkin from inside and used it. I very quickly jumped back into the car and was happy to find the "handi-wipes" I'd given to Hubby in the deitrus I'd tossed onto the floor. I still had to deal with the uncomfortable "wetness" in my drawers. Thankfully, the car had just been serviced and still had a plastic floor mat which I sat on. Then I had to drive an hour home. Besides the fact that this actually happened, the most embaressing thought is that someone was going to pull up to work Mon. (today) and see a puddle of shit and a napkin (I couldn't bring myself to pick the first one up, just the second) not 10 ft. from the front door. God help me if they have security camera's and someone recognizes Hubbies car. In telling my sister this humiliating tale, she admits to me (the only soul in the world who now knows, well except ya'll, but you know what I mean) that the same thing happened to her, only she was at a stop sign with a car behind her and therefore couldn't get out of the car. She shit (shat) herself completely and had to drive 5 miles home. That is even worse in my opinion than what I experienced (although I probably would've said "screw 'em" and gotten out anyway, but my sister won't even pee in a public bathroom). Clavus: Do you remember my post in your "I've got a vagina on my foot" thread and you replied I could've had my own thread about a "vagina on my vagina"? Well, I think this is my own thread (not that it can rival the toilet brush cup, but I think it comes a little close!) O'kay, now that I've "bared" my soul, anyone else care to confess to making a mess in your drawers? And I don't mean the "opps, I thought it was a fart but it wasn't" type responses, but on a par with my experience. Come on guys, I know I'm not the only one! (By God, I hope not). Ali
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'Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun, The frumious Bandersnatch!'--Jabberwocky, Lewis Carroll "You cannot do a kindness too soon because you never know how soon it will be too late."--Ralph Waldo Emerson |
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#2 (permalink) |
Insane
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Shat story
![]() What a great story. I am sitting here, reading this, chuckling because I could feel your pain, frustration and urgency. I know how you feel up until the final moment because this has happened to me a few times, I am rushing to get home or a nearby service station, but I normally just say to hell with it, pull over, find a bush or bunch of trees and let it rip. I have even used leaves/grass to wipe myself.... ![]() I have done the "I got a nice fart coming....shit, damn, darn it." but not the full turtle head coming out. You are a very good story teller.
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Life's jounney is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well-preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn-out shouting, "Holy sh*t! What a ride!" - unknown ![]() |
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#3 (permalink) |
Junkie
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Wow, I feel pretty bad for you
![]() I've come pretty close to it, but I've always been able to hold it in until I got to a bathroom. Holding it in is so agonizing... it comes in waves, like you're giving birth or something. And you get all sweaty and white knuckled... lol |
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#4 (permalink) |
Insane
Location: NYC
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This is a huge confession for me, but I figured that if I can't say it here, then I won't be able to say it anywhere else atall. Plus, you guys don't know me, so that's better. It actually happened to me with my was in 1st grade, it was the first day of school and I didn't ask to go to the bathroom for some reason, and I went on myself, it ran down my legs, went into my shoes and make those squeaky noises when I walked. Yuck! lol
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#5 (permalink) |
Frontal Lobe
Location: California
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I was in a similar situation to yours once except I was sitting in the car waiting for my boyfriend to return. I ended up shitting in a paper coffee cup (luckily a 16-oz. one) while desperately hoping he wouldn't come back while I was doing so. It was broad daylight so I was too embarassed to get out. People were driving by as I tried to act like I was just innocently looking for something on the floor of the car. The thing is, it was on a hill, so people could have easily seen inside the car. I'm just so glad it fit in the cup!
One time many years ago my boyfriend (different one) and I were lying in our loft bed early in the morning when he suddenly had to go, out of nowhere. He must have been sick. Anyway for him to reach the toilet he would have had to climb down, put some clothes on, go outside and down the stairs, enter the bottom part of the house and walk through the bedrooms of sleeping people to get to the bathroom. He had this panic in his voice as he told me he didn't think he was going to be able to make it and asked me what he should do - he was blind, and didn't know where he could go. I thought fast and told him to just go in a sheet I knew was on top of the dirty laundry located under the loft. He climbed down in a desperate hurry and momentarily I heard him explode with diarrhea four feet below me. The sounds and smell were tremendously offensive. He couldn't stop apologizing but I kept my cool and told him to just lie back down, get some rest, and not worry about it. I took care of the mess... ![]() We're in Sexuality? I'm not turned on yet. ...must...resist...scat comment.... ![]() Last edited by Squishor; 02-15-2005 at 07:31 AM.. |
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#6 (permalink) |
Devoted
Donor
Location: New England
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Yeah, I did it at work. For lunch, I brought in some leftover ziti with vodka sauce. The sauce had seperated, but I didn't think anything of it. A couple hours after lunch, I thought I had to fart, but it turned out to be much more than that.
Found a bag, threw my underwear out in a little-used restroom. I found a pair of long underwear in my car that I used for the rest of the day; unfortunely, it was hot and humid outside that day. I didn't want to remember that; thanks, alicat.
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I can't read your signature. Sorry. |
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#7 (permalink) |
Upright
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Ouch, tough story.
I have never done that, or something similar... But I went to a 4 day concert once at Leeds Festival. The toilettes at festivals are notoriously bad. There were even worse the year I went, as the year before the toilettes were set on fire during massive riots. So the year I went they were fire proof! I went to the toilette once over the whole 4 days. and just held it for about 3 days straight. Although I shouldn't have, it was murder going after 3 days of holding it in. You must have been uber bursting? I find I just hold it in after a while, I feel a bit bloated and uncomftable, but I can usually hold on until I find a toilette. |
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#8 (permalink) |
Insane
Location: Toronto
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Gosh this is so embarrassing but what the hay.
I was a younger lad 14 or 15 and I felt a urgency coming on. Well I was haflway between my house and the plaza I just left so I decided if I ran I could get home and do my business no problem. Well I was waiting for the elevator(I lived on the 11th floor of 13) and noticed one was out of service! One elevator was working but I thought I could still make it. Finally the elevator opens I jump inside and now its the home stretch. I'm clenching my jaw and my zone. Thank god the elevator didn't stop on the way up or I would have shat myself. Well the door opens and I fly out and run down my hall way, hands scrambling and slipping all over the keys. My hands were sweaty as hell because I was so nervous. As soon as I open the door I bolt for the bathroom, leaving both the front door open and the bathroom door open, as I squat down for relief I drop my load all over the floor right in FRONT of the toilet....So I had to clean up my mess. When my mom came home she said she could smell it all the way from the elevator. Gosh I haven't told anyone not even my mom what happened that one fateful day. |
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#9 (permalink) |
Getting it.
Super Moderator
Location: Lion City
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The closest I've come to this was a shart.
I was on the highway driving to my brother's place, about an hour and half north of the city. I felt the full feeling of a fart coming on and lifted a cheek to let one fly... To my dismay instead of a nice crisp fart I was served with a soft squirt. I immediately clenched and held the rest in. Needless to say, I was pissed and embarassed. As luck would have it I was just coming up to an exit with a mall. I did the quick mental debate... get off and go to the mall or drive for an hour like this until I get to my brother's place... I quickly exited the highway and high tailed it into the Eaton's department store. The whole time, my son asking, "Why are we stopping?" and me tersly replying, "I'll explain in a minute." I raced to the men's department, picked out some replacement underware and proceeded to the checkout. The whole time, I am distincly aware that I have what amounts to a mini load in my pants. I am clenching to keep from increasing that load, praying that I don't smell and walking just like you would expect someone to walk in this situation... At the checkout, I am sure the woman is aware of my predicament as she sees my red face, awkward stance and my only purchase... one pair of underware. I pay, and feeling her eyes boring into my back, I beat a hasty retreat to the men's room. Once there, I duck into a stall, make a deposit and change my clothes. Relief. On the way out, I calmly explain to my son what just happened. He can't decide whether to mock me, commiserate or laugh... The range of emotions that crossed his face was amusing to say the least... Ultimately he just laughed right along with me.
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"My hands are on fire. Hands are on fire. Ain't got no more time for all you charlatans and liars." - Old Man Luedecke Last edited by Charlatan; 02-15-2005 at 11:45 AM.. |
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#11 (permalink) |
Tilted
Location: Illinois
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I have never done it myself, but I have had to clean up after a friend that lost control in the middle of the night. I must confess that this happened after a night of drinking, but still a good shat story:
While attending a party for another of my friends, a buddy that was staying with me informed me that it was time for him to go. I was a little suspiscious because he has a reputation for vomiting while he is drunk, but I was about done with the evening so I agreed to head home. Not even two stop lights down from the party... the madness began. A window is cracked and the hurling comenses. Mind you that the drive home consisted of highway travel. So you can picture my car going 65+ miles/hr and a trail of vomit from the passenger window. How we made it back to my house with out being arrested I will never know but we did. That evening I set him up on a couch bed and set out to do a pre-wash of my vomit painted car. I could only manage to hose it down a bit before having to crash myself. When I woke up the next morning... I first laughed at the events of the night before, but was brought back to reality by the pounding of my head. I made my way downstairs to check on the friend of mine who had the rough evening and was met by the most foul smell. My first thought was that one of us had stepped in something the night before, and in being drunk, tracked it into the house. Ohhh no... couldn't be that lucky. I made my way into the basement to find a trail of hardened excrement that was once liquid. I found the friend of mine curled up on the couch bed, in a mess that looked as if someone had squeezed the middle of him and he exploded from both ends. Apparently... he realized that he needed to do "the duty" way to late in his druken slumber and started in the bed that I had set up for him. After starting in the bed he continued to leak the entire way to the bathroom upstairs (there is no bathroom in the basement of my house). To top it off this fool tried to deny the obvious when I woke him up. I spent hours the next day cleaning the mess... all I could smell was the shit stink and the cologne that he was wearing the night before. Never again can I smell that cologne. |
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#12 (permalink) |
Tilted
Location: Dallas, Texas
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This is the greatest thread of all time. its hilarious. I have never told ANYONE this but when i was in high school, i would always forget the keys to my house so when i would get home after school i would have to wait in the backyard for my mom for about half an hour. One day i had to go REALLY bad my whole walk home i was holding it. I even started running down the street because i knew if i didnt i would not have made it. I was digging through my backpack looking for my keys while running, ended up that day was one of the days i just so happen to forget my keys. I ran into the backyard frantically thinking maybe we left a window unlocked, but my luck that day of course none were unlocked. So i found some napkins on the patio table from the night before when we had dinner out there and dropped my pants right there on the grass. This would have not been so bad, but my dog kept looking at my like "what does she think shes doing" and she kept coming over to me rubbing her head on my leg i had to keep telling her to go away but luckly everything was alright and nobody ever montioned anything because it just looked like something that the dog had done and i threw the napkins in one of the outside garbage cans.
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#13 (permalink) |
big damn hero
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This is indeed an amusing thread.
I've never shit myself, but I've come quite close a few times. When I was younger, I had a horrible digestive problem. I suspected I was lactose intolerant, but hadn't been to the doctor for an official diagnosis (this was before the Internet...) Anyway, on the way back from a classical music concert with a group of friends, the group decided to stop at Braums (an ice cream joint for those not in the know) and had a hot fudge sundae. On a particularly long and desolate part of the highway, I felt a distinct rumbling followed by the pertinent urge to relieve myself. I had my buddy stop the car on the premise that I had to vomit (to admit that I had to shit....right now, was too embarassing.) I grabbed all the napkins I could quietly get my hands on and rushed over some guys fence to shit behind a thick looking set of bushes. In the middle of my business, I was interrupted by another friend. It seems they were worried about me as I had been gone for a while and had sent him to check up on me. He stopped short because as he said, 'the smell was quite unbearable.' and waited by the fence for me to finish up. On the way back to the car, I begged him not to tell the others what I was doing and tried to explain that the ice cream had did me in. The rest of the ride back was horrible. I was so self-conscious. I kept smelling shit and every once in a while the back seat would erupt with laughter. Knowing my friend as I know him now, the fucker probably told 'em. I was embarassed for a long time after that. Turns out the driver knew what I was doing all along. He was a better friend than the one who spotted me and told me it wasn't all that big a deal and thanked me for not shitting in his car.
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No signature. None. Seriously. |
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#14 (permalink) |
pow!
Location: NorCal
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I have yet to full-on shit myself. It is one of my greatest fears, and I would be horrified if it happened. I know, just KNOW it would happen in the worst possible setting - in an elevator, on an airplane, in front of a live audience while performing at some random dinner theatre.
In other words, it's going to happen. I'll be sure and let you know when it does. Back in my drinking days, I lost all bladder control while laughing. I immediately "accidentally" spilled a full beer on myself. Alcohol - my antagonist and savior.
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Ass, gas or grass. Nobody rides for free. |
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#15 (permalink) |
Crazy
Location: Troy, NY
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Never so much as sharted, and damned glad about it. I did, however, pull what was perhaps the opposite feat. While driving cross-country I once didn't shit from Quebec to Las Vegas. All we had in between were port-o-pottys and cheap motel bathrooms (we just stayed wherever we were at the time) and I refused to use either. Now this might not sound like TOO much, but mind you this is a sighseeing trip... It was a week and a half between the two. After like 4 days I think my butthole just gave up on trying to get me to poop.
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C4 to your door, no beef no more... |
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#16 (permalink) |
Adequate
Location: In my angry-dome.
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I have the vaguest sense of horror about a long past gradeschool shart, but thankfully the more I try to remember the further it fades. Most of those memories are repressed. "No meat, no pudding" trauma is long lasting.
Really, this is a humorous thread but I originally clicked it because I thought it said "shot". In my first real job I worked closely with an "old guy"/60's veteran/flower-child who shot himself through the forearm just to see what it felt like. Figured I'd stumbled onto a cult of his buddies. ![]() |
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#17 (permalink) |
Still Crazy
Location: In my own time
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![]() About 10 years ago I was househunting, but my search was made difficult by having to travel out of the country for my job quite frequently. I returned from Central America one Friday evening to find a message from the realtor about the perfect house. Well, hooray, except I'd only have early Saturday morning available for looking at the house. Anyway, I scheduled the Saturday morning viewing, unpacked my bags, et cetera. At about 2 in the morning I awakened with horrible stomach cramps....eventually turned into nonstop diarrhea for about 2 or 3 hours. I finally was able to get back to sleep for a few hours, woke up feeling terribly queasy, but after a coffee (wrong move) decided that I'd be able to make my appointment. Several times during the 45 minute drive to the house, my stomach rumbled and heaved, and my colon threatened to emulate Mt Vesuvius at its finest moment. I almost decided to return home and just cancel the appointment, but I knew I'd be out of the country again for a few weeks, and didn't want to miss this chance to possibly find a house. Hindsight is always 20-20. I met the realtor, we walked through the house (it really was the perfect house) and chatted for a bit. She then went out to her car to retrieve some paperwork. While she was outside my stomach rebelled. I headed for the stairs to use the upstairs bathroom as quickly as I could, all the while trying to clench my cheeks (but as y'all know, you cannot clench your cheeks while climbing stairs). I made it to the landing, just 5 measly feet from the bathroom, when my stomach went into full riot and blew out all stoppers. I waddled into the bathroom almost in tears and tried to clean up as best as I could, but of course, there wasn't a scrap of toilet paper to be found. Yes, I know the house was vacant, but you'd think that a roll of toilet paper could have been left for poor souls such as myself. I dug around in my purse and found a packet of mini tissues that weren't much help, and used water to complete the task as best I could. Meanwhile, the realtor had returned and was calling for me. I cracked open the door, told her I'd be down shortly and returned to my clean up chores. I then meekly and gingerly returned downstairs, just knowing that the smell was emanating in clouds around me like Pigpen in the Peanuts comic strip. The realtor decided that this was a good time for her to become a Chatty Cathy, so I had to get slightly rude with her and cut her perky conversation short. After promising to call her later that day, I literally ran to my car and peeled out of there doing almost 90. For some reason, I thought that the faster I drove away from the scene of the crime, the less I'd feel embarrassed. Oh, I didn't get the house. Some other buyer anted up more money, but I wasn't too put out about that because I just didn't think I could live there anyway after what had happened.
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it's gritty |
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#18 (permalink) |
Baffled
Location: West Michigan
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Considering how very fresh this experience still is for me, I....Cannot....believe....how....hard....I'm....fucking....laughing!
Your stories are so damn funny I'm suprised I haven't repeated the incident sitting in front of my computer! Thanks everyone for being brave enough to commiserate with me. C4 Diesel: 1 1/2 weeks without a shit? ![]() ![]() Ali
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'Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun, The frumious Bandersnatch!'--Jabberwocky, Lewis Carroll "You cannot do a kindness too soon because you never know how soon it will be too late."--Ralph Waldo Emerson |
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#19 (permalink) |
Twitterpated
Location: My own little world (also Canada)
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Hah that's terrible. I haven't actually shat myself since I was a wee one, but I've come very close (by now I have rectal muscles of steel). I recall the last time I did it (4 or 5 maybe?) it ran straight down into my galoshes (aw how cute) and we later ended up scrubbing it off with a toothbrush. Sometimes when I think of it, I can still almost smell it.
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"Few people are capable of expressing with equanimity opinions which differ from the prejudices of their social environment. Most people are even incapable of forming such opinions." - Albert Einstein "Wise men talk because they have something to say; fools, because they have to say something." - Plato |
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#22 (permalink) |
Junkie
Location: San Francisco
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I've been in a similar situation (actually twice), if it makes you feel any better
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Embracing the goddess energy within yourselves will bring all of you to a new understanding and valuing of life. A vision that inspires you to live and love on planet Earth. Like a priceless jewel buried in dark layers of soil and stone, Earth radiates her brilliant beauty into the caverns of space and time. Perhaps you are aware of those who watch over your home And experience of this place to visit and play with reality. You are becoming aware of yourself as a gamemaster... --Acknowledge your weaknesses-- |
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#23 (permalink) | |
big damn hero
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Quote:
I don't know. I think the majority are pretty funny and worth a laugh or two.
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No signature. None. Seriously. |
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#24 (permalink) |
Psycho
Location: Alberta, Canada
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I came close a few months ago.
Driving along the trans-canada highway near Banff, I had the urge. Of course, I was in the 60km stretch where there is basically no turnoffs at all, nowhere to pull off the highway. So I'm driving 160km/hour trying to get to the next rest stop, all the while pretty much standing up in my car so I can 'clench' hard enough. Finally get to the rest stop, which luckily is a bit off the highway near a river, so it's very much out of sight of the highway. Pull in, bolt out my car into the woods, do my stuff. Have to use my boxers to wipe :\ As I'm coming back to my car, 3 more vehicles pull in, all to walk their pet dogs. I left rather fast. The kicker was that the next day I found a roll of toilet paper under the drivers seat, which I had put there months earlier for situations like that. In the heat of the moment though, I had forgotten. ![]()
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Mokle "Your hands can't hit what your eyes can't see" -Ali |
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#25 (permalink) | |
Insane
Location: Louisiana
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Quote:
Commiseration is a wonderful thing, especially when it helps lessen the mortification of what, for an adult, can be damn near scarring... A grown up just isn't supposed to not have control over their bodily functions. *snorts* I have had several "shart" incidents, mostly because they come upon me without any warning at all. I can fart, and half hour later, no rumbling, no pain, and all of a sudden the next one isn't a fart. I had one shart incident that turned ugly, and thanks to the quick reactions of my hubby, eventually ended up ok. We had gone to Walmart for basic household shopping. As we were walking into the store from the parking lot, I felt my sphincter muscles just.... go.... no warning, no fart, no roiling, no pain, nothing. It was a leak at first, but the more I tried to control it, the worst it got. Luckily, the restrooms in Walmart are in the front of the store. I told my hubby what was happening, trying desperately to control the tears of mortified frustration. He sent me into the restroom to clean up as best as I possibly could and to see if I couldn't get my bowels into some semblance of control. I was still in there when a store associate knocked on the stall door, asking if my hubby was a big fella with long hair. When I affirmed the description, she passed a new pack of panties, receipt stuck in the package, under the door and walked out. I gratefully changed my underwear and threw the soiled pair into the garbage. A wet paper towel got the worst of the mess out of my jeans (luckily, I wear panty liners, and that caught some of it). When I emerged from the restroom, my hubby was waiting with a hug. He walked behind me to the car, hiding the big wet spot on my pants, and on the way out to the car, he told me that he'd told the associate that the elastic had given out on my panties, sweet man that he is. I'm sure she knew the truth as soon as she walked in, but it was very sweet of him to think of me. We had to make the trip another day, and I visited a different Walmart for a couple of months after that, lol.
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“When facism comes to America it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross.” ~Sinclair Lewis |
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#27 (permalink) | |
will always be an Alyson Hanniganite
Location: In the dust of the archives
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Quote:
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"I distrust those people who know so well what God wants them to do because I notice it always coincides with their own desires." - Susan B. Anthony "Hedonism with rules isn't hedonism at all, it's the Republican party." - JumpinJesus It is indisputable that true beauty lies within...but a nice rack sure doesn't hurt. |
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#28 (permalink) | |
Insane
Location: Toronto
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Quote:
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#30 (permalink) |
Upright
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The last time i shat myself I was probably six. What a day that was.... I was in love with Nintendo and would play it every morning before i went to school. One morning while playing Mario i had to poop and seeing as i didnt want to stop playing I just shit all over myself and kept playing until my nanny found me and i got the spanking of my life.
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#32 (permalink) | |
Location: Iceland
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Quote:
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#33 (permalink) | |
Junkie
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Quote:
I think these stories are funny, but face it: shit is gross. If it were not, this thread would not exist. We would think nothing of shitting all over ourselves. |
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#34 (permalink) |
Location: Iceland
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Carn, it's alright if you don't like shit, I'm not saying it's my favorite thing either!
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#35 (permalink) |
Human
Administrator
Location: Chicago
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actually, there is a biological basis for having an aversion to fecal matter, rooted in the fact that it *is* unsanitary, unlike the other things you mentioned. Now, of course, merely TALKING about such things is a different story. Perhaps that's what you meant and I misunderstood.
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Le temps détruit tout "Musicians are the carriers and communicators of spirit in the most immediate sense." - Kurt Elling Last edited by SecretMethod70; 02-17-2005 at 02:03 AM.. |
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#36 (permalink) |
Tilted
Location: You'd never guess..
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I work outside most of the year, and I can't tell you how many t-shirts have lost their sleeves due to a fast-processed lunch!! But I do have a good story to contribute ..
I'm at a downtown bar, drinking with some friends. I was out late the night before so was feeling pretty rough to begin with. The bar we're at serves pretty decent food and I hadn't eaten all day due to the queasiness from my hangover, so I decided it was in my best interest to woof something down just to have something in my stomach. I ate a wonderful quesadilla and continued on with some beers and conversation. During this time, we run into some ladies that we've known from earlier but haven't seen in awhile, and make introductions between ourselves and a couple of friends they had with them. I hit it off right away with one of the friends and we chatted for a good half-hour before I got "the hit".... I'm right in mid-sentence when I just stop talking and my ass locks up like Fort Knox. Whew! Luckily I got by with no leakage. Unfortunately, I knew this was one of those things that was not going away anytime soon. This bar is in an older building, and is more of a long hallway type bar, being about 15-20ft wide and very deep. As a result, the bathroom is very small, with just one urinal and one stall (with no door, no less) and a HELL of a lot of people. I knew the bathroom was not feasible. So, faking illness, I excused myself outside for some fresh air. Since it's in the downtown area, the only parking is in various alleyways around the area. I find the darkest one I can about half a block down, and by this point, I'm literally sweating. With no suitable place to do the deed, and time becoming extremely obsolete, I got between two cars and leaned up against the darker one. That was T H E grossest 'movement' I've ever had - I can see why there is water in toilets now. It looked ten thousand times worse than the fake homeless-guy poop on the Dave Chappelle show. I cleaned up with a bandana that I had in my back pocket and made my way back to the bar, checking carefully for onlookers. While public pooping was nerve-racking, I didn't get any on myself at least. But it didn't end there. I proceeded to go back to the bar, continue chatting, and again hitting it off very well with the girl from before. We exchanged numbers and made plans to hook up again before the night ended. She even noticed my *missing bandana*. Turns out, I wish she never would have. It was HER car that my bandana, and my utterly foul pile of crap, was laying against. Needless to say, not much came of that hookup! ![]() |
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#37 (permalink) | |
Junkie
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Quote:
![]() Yeah I suppose it happens to everyone, but still, it is not something I would talk about unless I were talking to my best friends. And I definitely would not talk about it in front of a girl ![]() |
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#40 (permalink) | |
Getting it.
Super Moderator
Location: Lion City
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