PIA-NOOOOOO!!

Sunday, 21 September 2014

When I was a kid, my mom made me take piano lessons twice a week – and I HATED going to the lessons! I would find any excuse not to go each time, but failed.

Then after several mornings of finding out that fried potatoes plus apple juice would give me violent diarrhea, I decided to eat some before my mom drove me to the teacher’s house.

My mom made me sit in the front seat in my nice new short overalls. The teacher wasn’t yet home, so my mom made me sit in the car with her. Then I felt the terrible rumble in my lower abdomen.

“I have to poop, Mommy.”
“You have to wait until your teacher gets home.”
“I REALLY have to poop!”
“You have to WAIT.”
“Moooooommmmmyyyyyyyyyyyy…..”

And by that time, it was too late. It flowed out of my overalls, over my mom’s suede and leather seat, and onto the floor. I had to ride home sitting on a newspaper covered in poop, and was hosed down in the backyard afterward, but I was so glad to get away from that lesson.

I wasn’t allowed to eat before piano anymore.

Originally posted 2011-09-19 00:27:33.


Some Shitty Friends

Friday, 19 September 2014

I was at the mall one night last summer when I was 14. I was with a group of friends and we were planning to meet up with more people, including many girls. We finally found them and went to the food court for some snacks. Most of us ordered from the Chinese food place, including me. I kept eating and eating not feeling the least bit full, and as soon as I stopped, it felt like I ate a truck. My friends kept wanting to walk around but I kept refusing, I felt so full. Finally, I heard this noise come from my stomach, and it was really weird and loud, and I suddenly felt better! We started to walk around, and only five or ten minutes later, I had another stomach ache. This one was different though, my stomach actually was in pain, not full. I did everything I could think of to make it feel better, until ! there was only one left- hit the bathrooms. I refused to do that, because the mall bathroom was a gigantic room full of stalls without doors on them. Even worse was that when one person goes to the bathroom in the mall, most of the group goes with them. And with my shitty luck, we all sat down on a bench in front of the bathroom door, making it very tempting. My friends began to notice that I was being very quiet and sitting funny. They were all, including the girls, beginning to ask what was wrong. Then, my closest friend who was there, said “I know what’s wrong. I’ve been with Stan when he gets like this- it means he has to take a major, huge dump!” I wanted to die. The boys laughed and the girls half laughed and half said ew. One of the guys, Eric, whispered something to them, and two guys grabbed me and held me. Other guys started tickling me and trying to make me lose control, while the girls kept laughing. It was working, because I felt like I was going to e! explode any second. Finally I broke away and rushed to the bath! room. Of course they followed to see their success as I jumped onto a stall in the middle and tore off my pants. I get grossed out by public toilet seats, so I just hunch over them, and that’s what I did. Immediately a gush of diarrhea rushed out of me and splashed like someone was dumping chili into the toilet. This went on non-stop for a full minute, and I mean non-stop. After that it was just short bursts of the liquids. My “friends” were hysterically laughing at my embarrassment and one came in and took a picture of my diarrhea in the toilet. I wiped about 500 times and left the bathroom that now smelled like dead rodents. I ended up laughing at myself too, I guess because now that I felt better I had a better sense of humor. For that, I gained respect.

Originally posted 2011-09-17 00:25:10.


Crappy Therapy

Wednesday, 17 September 2014

I work as a repair man . I can tackle most jobs in an hour and never use a customers restroom due to possible jewelry laying around and accusations etc.

I was backed up due to a hectic schedule. I had a slight urge to piss but thought I could finish the job and head over to a gas station bathroom when I finished. By the time I finished the job I really needed to piss and all of a sudden the urge to take a shit hit me.

The customer asked if I could do an extra repair since I was out there. The repair is an easy 15 minute fix and the drive to come back to the residence would have been an hour. The cramps died down so I told her I would do it.

As soon as she left the area the cramps came back. I wanted to use her bathroom but was embarrassed to take a crap at her place and stink up the joint.

I pulled the meaty cheek sqeeze maneuver and that bought me some time. Several minutes later the cramp came back. I was holding an impact driver in one hand and my package in the other. I had a toolbelt on and it seemed to push the chocolate lemonade surprise downward like a slupee.

I farted due to the build up of pressure. That made it worse. I bent over and sqeezed as hard as I could. I started sweating and it was 20 degrees in Colorado that day. The fifteen minute job was taking longer than a half a hour. I coulsnt concentrate and had to constantly stop to regroup. I manage to finish the job with some minor urine leakage. I had coveralls and long johns, so urine apot wasnt an issue.

As I was packing my tools the chweks were begging for mercy. As I was writing the invoice in my truck I looked in the rearview mirror and saw my face drenched in sweat. I was thinking about calling the customer and having her give me a credit number over the
phone but thought that would seem strange.

The cheeks gave me another hooray and I was able to present the invoice for the job. She decided to write a check. The look on her face was priceless because it was cold and I was sweating like a pig.

I managed to get in my truck and started looking for a restroom. I drove up the street slowly due to snow. The only thing I could think about is crashing and having to hold it longer, if that was even possible. I saw a park by her residence but didn’t locate a port o let . The cheeks couldn’t take it anymore butI felt relief and shame as the chocolate mousse filled my long johns as if I was sitting on hot mud. As soon as I felt that I saw a port o let. I was so pissed I said f it and pissed because I couldn’t stop anywhere for at least an hour.

An hour passed I marinated in my waste. I was happy to get home but the problem was my in-laws were visiting and I had no way to sneak on the house. I saw my mother and father inlaw in the kitchen located by the entry. I had snow caked on my boots and walked straight in.

“hows work?” I walked past them bringing snow all over the floor. after the clean up I went to speak and the first question was “do you want some pepto bismol?” Every sentence was with a smirk. I told them I was sick but felt better. The mom inlaw said it was a good thing I didn’t crap on myself and both of them started laughing.

Its nice to read other stories because I am embarrassed and this happen earlier today.

Originally posted 2011-09-15 00:21:53.


A Daughter reveals her Dad’s worst moment

Tuesday, 16 September 2014

Ok so I know this might sound weird, but I just had to put this story on here. So last night I was babysitting for my mommy and daddy. They went to Buffalo Wild Wings for an hour, and then they went to the bar for a little bit, and then at 10 o’clock, I see my parents car pull in the driveway, I open the door and see my dad limping to the door moaning and groaning. I walk outside and walk in to the path of a horrible stench. I ask what happened and my dad didn’t respond, I look over at my mom peeking her head out of the driver door gasping for fresh air. I look at the back of my dad’s pants and see a giant wet soggy stain. I didn’t want to ask what else happened. He immediately ran downstairs in embarrassment. I run over to my mommy and ask what happened. She says that he told her to get home because he has to poop, so they’re driving home in silence, and all of a sudden she hears a bubbly noise from the passenger seat. She looks over in horror, and keeps hearing that same bubbly sound. Here my dad actually crapped his drawers on his date night with my mom! So while we’re all outside waiting for my dad to clean himself up, my sister notices something on the ground, looks like he left some turds on the driveway!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Rate this story a 1-10 and share some poop stories about you or anyone else you know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!…

Originally posted 2011-09-14 00:16:27.


Shitty Date

Monday, 15 September 2014

The day before a date I was hanging at my friend Sara’s house and we were watching some TV while enjoying some Chinese food. All of the sudden I got really bad cramps and I needed to take a dump right then. I went into her bathroom but all that came out was some really bad gas and the cramping went away. I told Sara and she told me to take some laxatives. I read all the directions very carefully and I took the dosage. About a half an hour later the cramps came back and I bolted for the bathroom. Just in time, I let go of the worst diarrhea I’ve ever had, but I felt so much better. After I was done and the cramping and gassing passed, I cleaned up and went to sleep. The next day, the day of my date with my boyfriend, Jason. I felt sudden urges all morning to poop. I took another dosage of laxatives. Twenty minuets later I was in the bathroom. Feeling better, I got ready for my date and met him at this Mexican restaurant (his choice) for dinner. We enjoyed our meal together and I felt great. Then we decided to go back to his apartment to have some “fun”. The sex was getting really good and I could tell that He was enjoying it. Right as I was getting to an orgasm, the cramps came back and I stated to let some farts go. As I tried to hold them in the cramps became worse, but there wasn’t anything I could do. Then I just stopped holding them in an I released the longest and loudest fart I’ve ever heard. He, being amazing, pushed out some wind to make me feel better. The worst part was that the cramping didn’t stop. I kept gassing up a storm! But, each time I passed wind, he would do the same. It was so sweet. The a bubble in my stomach popped and I felt that I had to make a bowl movement NOW! I tried to excuse my-self as quickly as possible, but I just wasn’t fast enough. The poop started to come out. Luckily I didn’t have diarrhea like before, but I still had to POO! Jason insisted that I stay for another minuet and he pulled me very close. I clenched all my butt muscles so hard it hurt. I was able to stop the poop for a bit, but the cramping only got worse. A little later Jason fell asleep and I high-tailed it to the bathroom. As so as I sat on the toilet I pushed. Nothing happened, except for some gassing again. I went back to the room, grabbed my bag, and took a few laxatives I had packed for emergencies. I went back to bed and waited. Then Jason awoke and we snuggled in close. The laxatives and poop were the last things on my mind. He dosed off again. Then ten minuets later I had to fart really bad! Not wanting to wake him I tried to make my way, butt clenched and all, out of bed and to the bathroom across the room. As soon as I tried to move out of his arms my butt unclenched and I exploded diarrhea and really bad gas all over him. Terrified, I grabbed my things and ran into the bathroom, and started! cleaning up as best I could. Then I hopped into his shower, got dressed, packed up, wrote Jason an apology note, and fled. I never heard from him again. It was so embarrassing!

Originally posted 2011-09-13 02:14:04.


The Worst Roommate EVER

Sunday, 14 September 2014

Somehow I always manage to have incidents the night before a big exam. The worst time was not too long ago on an evening when I was furiously studying in my bedroom. Starting to feel pretty queasy, I decided it was time for a potty break. In the bathroom all hell broke loose the minute I sat on the toilet. Thankfully it was quick and relatively painless. I finished up and headed back to my bedroom for more learning. Not 10 seconds later I realize there’s still noise coming from the bathroom – running water. Must’ve left the sink on, I thought, and got up to check. I opened the bathroom door to see water pouring over the toilet bowl. Water and chunks of poop, more specifically. Panicked I high-stepped it gingerly across the bathroom, avoiding the turds, and stopped the water (long ago learned how this is done from many a toilet overflow situation). Then I flung every towel in the bathroom onto the floor. Overwhelmed by the excrement surrounding me, my first thought was to address the high water level in the bowl which was teeming with even MORE feces (I had apparently pooped like a rabbit). I raced into the kitchen with soggy feet and flung open the cupboard. The single solitary ONLY cup sitting there was my roommate’s special plastic college mug. Luckily she wasn’t home. I grabbed it without a second thought and raced back to the bathroom where I started scooping poopy water into the shower. I can’t really say why I did this. Is having poop in your shower preferable to poop in your toilet? Arguably NO, but I guess I couldn’t handle the pressure of the situation. Once the toilet was empty I dealt with the poopy floor and then scraped all the stupid poop out of the shower. Squeegeed, scrubbed, everything was nice and clean. But the cup!! Wh! at was I going to do about the cup? Throw it away? But how could I explain the loss of the cup? I then seriously considered smashing it to explain why it could/SHOULD no longer be used, but it was plastic. Plastic doesn’t incidentally break. Then I entered a scary mindset where I decided that I was over-reacting. Just because I used my roommate’s special college souvenir cup to scoop poop water out of my toilet, didn’t mean it had to be retired. I delivered the cup to the dishwasher and ran a cycle. Since she still hadn’t arrived home yet I ran another. Then I put that cup back into the cupboard right where I’d found it hours before. Don’t know what I was thinking. Should’ve smashed the thing. Now every friggen day of my life I get to watch her drink from that cup and I want to throw up. Once a poop cup, always a poop cup.

Originally posted 2011-09-12 00:30:34.


Doozing by the Ocean

Saturday, 30 August 2014

I was in a popular ocean resort town for vacation. My stomache had been really messed up that day. Walking down the boardwalk with a couple of lifelong friends, I had to go RIGHT NOW. I see a nearby dumpster and go behind it, and there before me is an unopened roll of paper towels on the ground. Yesss! God loves me! Untill…..

I saw my friends hugging each other and laughing. I look up to see what they’re laughing at, and behind me is a hotel. With a balcony on every room. With college-age girls on many of the balconies. Pointing at me. Hugging. Laughing. I was humiliated until I realized that it didn’t matter because I’d never meet any of them or see them again anyway. I finished up and went about my business.

A little further down the boardwalk, my stomach acts up again. I see a little abanded shed with a closed in car-port like structure. Perfect! I can get down in the corner, do my business, and no one will ever see me or know! I didn’t want to dooze on anyone’s floor though, because I try to be a decent guy. I get the bright idea to take off my boxers, tie off the legs, make my deposit in the boxers, and quitely deposit the soiled boxers in the trash can on the beach, undetected. All was going according to planned when the door to the shed flies open, and a crusty old lady (presumably a squatter) steps out and says “What do you call yourself doing?!?!” I was mid deposit, but it scared me so badly that I jerked up my shorts, jumped over the corner, and flung the boxers at the trash can as I ran by it. I missed, and I do apologize to whomever had to clean that up.

I decide that I need more boxers, so we go into a store across the street from the beach. Again, my friends are hugging. Laughing. Pointing. I ask them what’s up, and they then decide to tell me that I’ve been walking around the store with a 2 inch wide brown streak right up the middle of the back of my shorts. Other patrons in the store. Hugging. Laughing. Dry wretching. I love my friends.

Originally posted 2011-08-28 03:40:06.


A Day at the Beach Club

Friday, 29 August 2014

It was the summer of 1955 or 56. I was 12 or 13 years old. We were regular visitors at the Shark River Hills Beach Club not far from where my family had the summer house.
On this day my younger brother had to take a poop real bad but the beach house bathroom stunk and was too crowded, dirty and hot.

Determined to relieve himself, I accompanied my brother as we waded in shallow water up along the beach, out of sight from the bathers where it curved around the bend looking for a discrete place to launch the missile. Operating on the assumption that the load would sink to the bottom as it always does in the toilet bowl, he lowered his trunks and proceeded to slide the brown while waist deep in the water. To my surprise the package rose to the surface buoyed by the increased density of salt water. Not sure how to handle this Archimedian discovery we left the scene and returned to the beach area. The floating torpedo was left bobbing in the shallow water around the bend – out of site.
As always, the beach area was crowded with families and kids. Hours later the tide started to go out and by then we had forgotten all about the floating missile erroneously assuming it would remain anonymously out of site.
Suddenly we heard a frantic scream from a woman who was in the water with her young child – The torpedo had followed the tide current and found its way – a silent intruder invading the swim area. The uninvited guest appeared bobbing along amongst the frolicking children. The woman was not sure what to do but took on the immediate duty of keeping her child far far from the menacing large torpedo turd which had managed to keep its shape and continued to drift along. The increased density of the salt water enable a good portion of the invader to remain above the water line removing any doubt as to its nature.
The woman’s reaction was similar to the reaction of swimmers who spot a shark. This woman apparently came to the conclusion that it was now her duty to save the day. First she rushed her child safely to dry land and found a small board which she planned to use as the capture & removal tool. She bravely re-entered the water to the turd site as all other swimmers had fled to the shore. My brother & I watched this unfolding of events as innocent spectators imagining the way an arsonist feels watching the fire he started.

The woman approached the turd – board in hand – as she carefully placed the board in the water and lifted the torpedo turd out of the water. Having captured the booty she proceeded to shore with the perfect turd delicately balanced on the board like a circus performer delivering a prize catch. As she tried to make her way over the bumpy bottom she lost her balance many times causing the perfectly large round turd to repeatedly roll off the board forcing her to re-capture it several times on her journey to the shore. She was determined to follow through on her mission – she could not quit now – everyone was watching this brave woman. We found it very easy to hold off from exploding with powerful laughter – after all – we were innocent bystanders – no one else was laughing.
Finally the woman made it ashore and walked the boarded turd to the bathroom for dumping. That was it – it was over – the woman was a hero – My brother was the culprit, I was the accomplice and no one knew. I am sure that woman remembers the events of that day but doubt that she has told the story. I wish I could meet that woman today and tell her that 55 years ago when she saved the day at the Shark River Beach Club – it was my brother who launched that missile. Do you think she’d be happy to meet me?

Originally posted 2011-08-27 03:39:20.


Public Poop

Thursday, 28 August 2014

I never thought that I would be one of those people who pooped on myself but I was that day. Yesterday, I went to an outlet mall to eat a japanese hibachi restaurant for my aunt’s birthday. I was so excited because I love their fried rice and cause I would get to spend time with my family. After eating at the restaurant, my aunt and her two children decide to go shopping with my mom and me. We all piled up in my mom’s car and as soon as that happened, my stomach began to cramp. Now, I’m not one to associate cramping with pooping because pooping doesn’t relieve my stomach aches, but I would soon come to find out that that logic isn’t always to true. So, we drive around to another section of the mall and get out. My girl cousin and I go to a shoe store while my mom, boy cousin, and aunt go to another one! . While in the store, I realized that I had to go but that I could hold it. Wrong. We soon exited that store and went into another and after a couple of minutes, I realized that I could not hold this one. I told my cousin that I would be back and left the store. I proceeded to call my mother to tell her that she needs to take me home but then I realized I couldn’t wait for that since we lived thirty minutes away. As I’m walking to where my mom was, she comes out the store she was in and heads for me. I told her that I think I have diarrhea so she says let me take you to Macy’s which was only a few steps away. My little boy cousin wants to come with us but I tell him no go with your mom in a forceful tone that I had never heard myself use. As we are walking quickly to Macy’s, I feel the poop starting to slip it’s way out. I told my mom, “Oh my God, Mom. It’s coming out.” And then she made this frowny face and said, “Yeah and it stinks.” (Thanks mom for ma! king me feel better haha.) Anyways, it starts coming out in my! pants a nd I feel it trickling down my legs in my jean capris. So I decide to use my sweater to cover my accident since we were still in public. I was so embarassed! We get to Macy’s and walk to the bathroom where I let it all out. I immediately sat down on the toilet seat without a seat cover which is something I do NOT do. I do NOT poop anywhere else other than my house. I can’t even poop over my family’s or friends houses but I was so desperate at this point and had no other choice. It was so disgusting it looked like brown oatmeal in my pants and panties.Luckily, my mom had the brilliant idea of buying me new panties and pants in the store which allowed me to save face in front of my family. So while she shopped, I wiped myself off as best as I could and cleaned up the little spots I found on the toilet. Also, there was air freshner laying out in the bathroom which was super convenient. It took three washes to get the stinky smell and out my clothes and I took a long bath that! night.

Originally posted 2011-08-26 03:35:39.


The Mountain Bike Saga – Part 2: Return of the Amoebas

Wednesday, 27 August 2014

Yes there is a part 2. How can there be a part 2? Well let’s just say in part one, I never really figured out why that whole thing happened in the first place. Well in part 2 I did figure it out!

All I can say is it wasn’t that crazy Texas water after all.

So a week later. Same friend and I decide we should go on another mtn bike journey to a different mountain. Like I said I was really into mountain biking at this time.

We show up at the a really green beautiful day. Start riding up these switch backs. We get about 10 miles in. One of the longest trails I have ever ridden. I am thinking how fun the ride back is going to be when suddenly my chain on my bike gets caught and snaps. It completely broke in two, I forget exactly how this happened, but I couldn’t believe it at the time.

I started cursing my bike. I cannot go any further. Just then as I am swearing at my bike, my stomach begins to rumble…. just like it did last week.

‘OH NO’ I thought, ‘NOT AGAIN’. I look at my chain in horror. ‘I guess I can coast back it would be all downhill from here.’ Then I remembered I had about 15 minutes before it would become unbearable like it was last time. I look at my friend and say.

“Dude I can’t believe it, but it is happening again.”

“What is happening again?”

“If I don’t get out of here right now I am going to shit myself.”

“No way man, you are just nervous or something cuz your chain broke, come smoke some of this stuff here with me.”

“Dude you aren’t listening I gotta go now!”

That’s when he really pissed me off, cuz he turned his back and walked away smoking in the wilderness.

I began my long descent coasting. The cramp pains became intense and then more intense. Then they would subside. It was an odd sensation, coasting was enjoyable, but then the pain would intrude suddenly, and I would squint hard trying to pay attention not to fall off the cliffs on either side of the treacherous trail.

After the long descent and through switchbacks in the wilderness. I arrived at the parking lot and saw the bathroom. I was about ready to shit myself there. I began to run to the bathroom. Then the most unexpected thing happened, unfathomable that something could deter me, at this point, by being any more unbearable itself. But there it was. An invisible force field of the foulest shit smell I have ever smelled in my life, emanating from the bathroom that I MUST USE.

Not only am I about to shit, but as I take one step in the shit force field. It is as if the shit smell penetrates my cells and forces me to begin vomiting.

I actually have to step back and cramp my ass cheeks together hard as the ringing in my intestines reaches peak PAIN threshold. SHIT.SHIT.SHIT.SHIT. I realize I have to go to my car and leave. I turn and look for my friend and he is finally making it down the hill.

Then I think better of it and try the bathroom one more time. I get within the threshold and it happens again, I start to vomit the smell is so  gross!

“Ok the hell with this lets go man I can’t use that bathroom, lets go.”

So I start frantically driving. At the end of the road to the beginning of the highway is a fire station.

I get out and begin banging on the fire station door.

No one  answers! I bang and bang and bang. No one is here how can no one be here!

I am wasting precious time. The shit is going to come.

I hop in my car. I begin driving to the only place I know that will have a bathroom.

A pizza place. 30 minutes away…….

At this moment it seemed infinity.

I actually started crying tears from the pain in my intestines. My friend thought this was intensely funny and began laughing out loud.

I think I sang to myself while driving like a lullaby I was making up to try to ease the pain.

Also should be noted this is the most dangerous road in CA to be driving on. People die here all the time driving. I had to pay attention and it was really difficult.

Anyways I made it to the stupid pizza place. There was a kids birthday party going on. I literally stepped over the heads of munchkins partying to get into the bathroom. Thank GOD no one was using the toilet. I would have shit in the sink at that point.

I sat on the toilet and let the hail mary of all shits out. Lifted my legs up even. Straight out of DUMB N DUMBER SHIT. Tears coming out of my eyes.

Weirdest thing is that once it was gone, I felt completely fine.

So moral of the story kids… CLEAN YOUR CAMEL PACK. If you do not clean it, you will get  amoebas growing in there that will make your intestines turn inside out in the middle of no where.

Originally posted 2011-08-25 06:11:24.