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Whats your story?

4K views 76 replies 45 participants last post by  Dirty Ridin 1 
#1 ·
Who has the best "poop" story?

A friend at work told me this one. He had gone to Lowe's to get some stuff. anyways he hates public restrooms and needed to go bad so he said fuck it and headed to the rear of the store. upon arriving there he pushed open a stall door to see if it was clean... it wasn't. as he started to turn to walk away his mind caught hold of what it just saw. he said it was the biggest turd he had ever seen. it had to 3-4" in diameter and a good foot long! he said it laid in the bowl like a wet roll of paper towel. just as he was about to walk away and use the next stall he said to himself what the hell! ..he reached up with his foot and hit the lever to flush it. now mind you this is Lowe's. good heavy duty plumbing...it wouldn't budge. the turd had the staying power of a cinder block. he said he laughed as he went away thinking of the poor bastard that had to clean the can that night.
 
#43 ·
There is a guy at work, we'll call him Fred, he is what is referred to as an opportunity bomber. he can ruin plumbing, and he has. we refer to his escapades as giving the "Muddy boot" he will make a raft of sorts made of paper, he then deposits the nastiest foul smelling turds that any critter could produce...it is foul. he leaves them on the rafts in a spiral pattern like a coiled up cobra. they even have that swept back head thing going as he steps up off them. well the day came when old Fred needed to drop a bomb he found an empty can and commenced to build a barge. he stepped up off it and stood back and admired his work for moment before leaving it behind. he said when it was fresh it was peering over the rim at him. he then went in the next stall to wipe, about 30 minutes went by before the commotion started. someone had found the cobra coiled and waiting in the can. they reported it the supervisor who came to see what the fuss was about. it was at that point things got bad. he attempted to flush the snake in the bowl when it struck. as it spun in the water on its perch it smeared the rim of the bowl and down the side like someone stepping out the swamp and jamming a boot in the bowl. as things would have it the bowl couldn't take the pressure. it started to over flow..a lot. its at that point the super called the maintenance guys. they were ill prepared for what came next. the one guy was kinda a new so he went in first plunger in hand...it was bad. he attempted to break it up and it gassed him. it gave him such a nose full of nasty he came out puking. in comes second guy plunger in hand, he must have thought the first guy didn't try hard enough...out he ran a moment later gagging for his breath. about an hour goes by the guys come back with a shovel and a waste basket. they scooped out the nightmare turd and gave it a final resting place in the dumpster out back wrapped in 3 garbage bags so it would break on the way there.
the investigation was awe inspired. the management wanted anyone to come forward with info into the poop bandits act of terror. no one came. about a week later they got a repeat performance and it was just about the same. only the maintenance guys refused to come. the super had to hand shovel it out with a rubber gloved hand...it was awesome. he gagged for days every time he walked past that restroom.
 
#50 ·
Yetti/Fred is my new hero.

I can't even come close to any of these, aside from driving with a friend and letting a SBD fly and blaming it on the cattle we passed. He didn't catch on till he seen me grinning then spun both windows down. It was -10 out and we were going freeway speed. We froze but I was still laughing.
 
#51 ·
my worst story is....

i was eating at that fish fry place across from overtyme with my gf and her parents. i had to shit bad so i went to the bathroom... it was straight blow out diahhrea and it smelld horid so i gave myself a coutisy flush and i dont know why but i looked down and saw the toilet was plugged and was about to flood onto my ass. so i stand up kinda with a dirty ass and wipe my butt and throw the tp into the bowl while its pouring all over the floor and run out of the room. i told my girlfriedn we had to go so we left. as we were leaving i heard someone yell "DANNY THE MENS ROOM IS FLOODING" so i ran out and finished shitting at mcdonalds

lol
 
#52 ·
ok one more

the gf and i were cruising down woodward on the cbr, we needed to get a headlight real quick so i stopped at a murrays in hines park. mind you were the only 2 white people there. so she says she has to pee so i go to the bathroom with her. she pees and waits for me to pee. so im standing there peeing and i farted ya know how you have the piss fart, yea well it was wet, so i shit my pants infront of my girlfriend in hines park. good times
 
#58 ·
Backpacking somewhere near Harpers Ferry WV on the AT. Had been eating Mountain House meals for several days, which seem to do a number on me. Walking up a hill I had to fart and, well, I sharted.... BAD. Good thing I brought a second pair of pants, as I left the shitty ones in the woods.
 
#60 ·
I got a poo story!!!!!!!!!

My friend John went to go poo at a Kroger bathroom. He is sitting comfortably on the throne. Then he hears high heels clicking on the tile floor. Now he realizes what those little odd hanging trash containers on the stall walls are for.

He was in the woman's bathroom growing a tail!!!!!

:sonicjay:
 
#61 ·
I read this another site ***VERY FUNNY MUST READ***

The Ryan's Steakhouse Story

by Anonymous

Now, I know that there is a lot of embellishment that occurs on this group and I am aware that a small number of things are perhaps sheer fabrication, but I have a story to tell that is the absolute truth.

Funniest damn thing that has ever happened to me. A couple of weeks ago we decided to cruise out to Ryan's Steakhouse for dinner. It was a Wednesday night which means that macaroni and beef was on the hot bar, indeed the only night of the week that it is served. Wednesday night is also kid's night at Ryan's, complete with Dizzy the Clown wandering from table to table entertaining the little bastards. It may seem that the events about to be told have little connection to those two circumstances, but all will be clear in a moment.

We went through the line and placed our orders for the all-you-can-eat hot bar then sat down as far away from the front of the restaurant as possible in order to keep the density of kids down a bit. Then I started my move to the hot bar. Plate after plate of macaroni and beef were consumed that evening, I tell you - in all, four heaping plates of the pseudo-Italian ambrosia were shoved into my belly. I was sated. Perhaps a bit too much, however.

I had not really been feeling well all day, what with a bit of gas and such. By the time I had eaten four overwhelmed plates of food, I was in real trouble. There was so much pressure on my diaphragm that I was having trouble breathing. At the same time, the downward pressure was building. At first I thought it was only gas, which could have been passed in batches right at the table without too much concern.

Unfortunately, that was not to be. After a minute or so it was clear that I was dealing with explosive diarrhea. It's amazing how grease can make its way through your intestines far faster than the food which spawned the grease to begin with, but I digress... I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom. Upon entering, I saw two sinks immediately inside the door, two urinals just to the right of the sinks, and two toilet stalls against the back wall. One of them was a handicapped bathroom. Now, normally I would have gone to the handicapped stall since I like to stretch out a bit when I take a good shit. But in this case, the door lock was broken and the only thing I hate worse than my wife telling me to stop cutting my toenails with a pair of diagonal wire-cutters is having someone walk in on me while I am taking a shit.

I went to the normal stall. In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the large, handicapped stall even though the door would not lock because that bit of time lost in making the stall switch proved to be a bit too long under the circumstances. By the time I had walked into the regular stall, the pressure on my ass was reaching Biblical portions. I began "The Move."

For those women who may be reading this, let me take a moment to explain "The Move." Men know exactly what their bowels are up to at any given second. And when the time comes to empty the cache, a sequence of physiological events occur that can not be stopped under any circumstances. There is a move men make that involves simultaneously approaching the toilet, beginning the body turn to position ones ass toward said toilet, hooking ones fingers into ones waistline, and pulling down the pants while beginning the squat at the same time. It is a very fluid motion that, when performed properly, results in the flawless expulsion of shit at the exact same second that one’s ass is properly placed on the toilet seat. Done properly, it even assures that the choad is properly inserted into the front rim of the toilet in the event that the piss stream lets loose at the same time; it is truly a picture of coordination rivaling that of a skilled ballet dancer.

I was about halfway into "The Move" when I looked down at the floor and saw a pile of vomit that had been previously expelled by one of those little bastards attending kids night. It was mounded up in the corner so I did not notice it when I had first walked into the stall. Normally, I would not have been bothered by such a thing, but I had eaten so much and the pressure upward was so intense, that I hit a rarely experienced gag reflex. And once that reflex started, combined with the intense pressure upward caused by the bloated stomach, four plates of macaroni and beef started coming up for a rematch.

What happened next was so quick that the exact sequence of events is a bit fuzzy, but I will try to reconstruct them as best I can. In that moment of impending projectile vomiting, my attention was diverted from the goings-on at the other end. To put a freeze frame on the situation, I was half crouched down to the toilet, pants pulled down to my knees, with a load of vomit coming up my esophagus.

Now, most of you know that vomiting takes precedence over shit no matter what is about to come slamming out of your ass. It is apparently an evolutionary thing since shitting will not kill you, but vomiting takes a presence of mind to accomplish so that you do not aspirate any food into the bronchial tubes and perhaps choke to death. My attention was thus diverted. At that very split second, my ass exploded in what can only be described as a wake...you know, as in a newspaper headline along the lines of "30,000 Killed In Wake of Typhoon Fifi" or something similar. In what seemed to be most suitably measured in cubic feet, an enormous plug of shit the consistency of thick mud with embedded pockets of greasy liquid came flying out of my ass.

But remember, I was only halfway down on the toilet at that moment. The shit wave was of such force, and of just such an angle in relation to the back curve of the toilet seat, that it ricocheted off the back of the seat and slammed into the wall - at an angle of incidence equal to the angle at which it initially hit the toilet seat. Then I sat down. Recall that when that event occurred, I was already halfway to sitting anyway and had actually reached the point of no return. I have always considered myself as relatively stable gravitationally, but when you get beyond a certain point, you're going down no matter how limber you may be. Needless to say, the shit wave, though of considerable force, was not so sufficient so as to completely glance off the toilet seat and deposit itself on the walls - unlike what you would see when hitting a puddle with a high-pressure water hose; even though you throw water at the puddle, the puddle gets moved and no water is left to re-form a puddle. There was a significant amount of shit remaining on about one-third of the seat rim which I had now just collapsed upon.

Now, back to the vomit...

While all the shitting was going on, the vomit was still on its way up. By the time I had actually collapsed on the toilet, my mouth had filled up with a goodly portion of the macaroni and beef I had just consumed. OK, so what does the human body instinctively do when vomiting? One bends over. So I bent over. I was still sitting on the toilet, though. Therefore, bending over resulted in me placing my head above my now slightly-opened legs, positioned in between my knees and waist. Also directly above my pants which were now pulled down to a point just midway between my knees and my ankles. Oh, did I mention that I was wearing not just pants, but sweatpants with elastic on the ankles. In one mighty push, some three pounds of macaroni and beef, two or three Cokes, and a couple of Big, Fat Yeast Rolls were deposited in my pants...on the inside...with no ready exit at the bottom down by my feet. In the next several seconds, there were a handful of farts, a couple of turds, and the event ended. Yet I was now sitting there with my pants full of vomit, my back covered in shit that had bounced off the toilet, spattered on three ceramic-tiled walls to a height of about five feet, and still had enough force to come back at me, covering the back of my shirt with droplets of liquid shit. All while thick shit was spread all over my ass in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat.

And there was no [edited] toilet paper. What could I do but laugh. I must have sounded like a complete maniac to the guy who then wandered into the bathroom. He actually asked if I was OK since I was laughing so hard I must have sounded like I was crying hysterically. I calmed down just enough to ask him if he would get the manager. And told him to have the manager bring some toilet paper. When the manager walked in, he brought the toilet paper with him, but in no way was prepared for what happened next. I simply told him that there was no way I was going to explain what was happening in the stall, but that I needed several wet towels and I needed him to go ask my wife to come help me. I told him where we were sitting and he left. At that point, I think he was probably assuming that I had pissed just a bit in my pants or something similarly benign.

About two minutes later, my wife came into the bathroom not knowing what was wrong and with a certain amount of worry in her voice. I explained to her (still laughing and having trouble getting out words) that I had a slight accident and needed her help. Knowing that I had experienced some close calls in the past, she probably assumed that I had laid down a small turd or something and just needed to bring the car around so we could bolt immediately. Until I asked her, I'm sure she had no idea that she was about to go across the street and purchase me new underwear, new socks, new pants, a new shirt, and (by that time due to considerable leakage around the elastic ankles thingies) new sneakers. And she then started to laugh herself since I was still laughing. She began to ask for an explanation as to what had happened when I promised her that I would tell her later, but that I just needed to handle damage control for the time being. She left.

The manager then came back in with a half-dozen wet towels and a few dry ones. I asked him to also bring a mop and bucket upon which he assured me that they would clean up anything that needed to be cleaned. Without giving him specific details, I explained that what was going on in that stall that night was far in excess of what I would expect anyone to deal with, what with most of the folks working at Ryan's making minimum wage of just slightly above. At that moment, I think it dawned on him exactly the gravity of the situation. Then that manager went so far above the call of duty that I will be eternally grateful for his actions. He hooked up a hose. Fortunately, commercial bathrooms are constructed with tile walls and tile floors and have a drain in the middle of the room in order to make clean up easy. Fortunately, I was in a commercial bathroom. He hooked up the hose to the spigot located under the sink as I began cleaning myself up with the wet towels.

Just as I was finishing, my wife got back with the new clothes and passed them into the stall, whereupon I stuffed the previously worn clothing into the plastic bag that came from the store, handing the bag to my wife. I finished cleaning myself off and carefully put on my new clothes, still stuck in the stall since I figured that it would be in bad taste to go out of the stall to get redressed, in the event I happened to be standing there naked and some little bastard kid walked in. At that point, I had only made a mess; I had not yet committed a felony and intended to keep it that way.

When I finished getting dressed, I picked up the hose and cleaned up the entire stall, washing down the remains toward the drain in the center of the room. I put down the hose and walked out of the bathroom. I had intended to go to the manager and thank him for all he had done, but when I walked out, three of the management staff were there to greet me with a standing ovation. I started laughing so hard that I thought I was going to throw up again, but managed to scurry out to the car where my wife was now waiting to pick me up by the front door.

The upshot of all this is that I strongly recommend eating dinner at Ryan's Steak House. They have, by far, the nicest management staff of any restaurant in which I have eaten.[/QUOTE]
 
#64 · (Edited)
http://www.diehippiedie.com/screwball/mutter2.html

Proceeding downstairs, we near a giant brown veined bag. Holy shit! It's a colon! Taken from a man who died from a SERIOUS blockage sometime around the turn of the century. The thing was 5 feet long, and as big around as a person. It contained over 40 pounds of shit when they removed it. The doctors at the time couldn't do anything for the man, and he died in extreme pain. Thank god for ex-lax.


I have to believe the guys name was Chad? little asshole...full of shit!
 
#66 · (Edited)
Too many poop stories to even talk about.

Ive seen, grey, yellow, black, red, green poop. undigested veggies in poop, mucus in poop, blood clots in poop. people poop in the bed then squish around in it until its all the way up their back. people stand up and poop all down their legs, people put their hands in poop, people remove poop from their buttholes with their bare hands, people poop sitting down so it squishes out all up in their crotch..... ugh I am a nursing assistant in critical care. Poop is life. ... oh and Ive seen a poop at least 4-5'' diameter. oh and you haven't lived until you've seen someone with a colostomy get an enema!


haha YUMMAY! :naughty:
 
#67 ·
Too many poop stories to even talk about.

Ive seen, grey, yellow, black, red, green poop. undigested veggies in poop, mucus in poop, blood clots in poop. people poop in the bed then squish around in it until its all the way up their back. people stand up and poop all down their legs, people put their hands in poop, people remove poop from their buttholes with their bare hands, people poop sitting down so it squishes out all up in their crotch..... ugh I am a nursing assistant in critical care. Poop is life.
Thats alot of poop. :sonicjay::sonicjay:
 
#69 ·
Leanz My daughter is currently working at Chelsea Hospital as a Nurses assistant. she loves the job and people, but has some reservations about the things people do in their drawers. she says it all in a days work.
 
#72 ·
:sonicjay::sonicjay:

:thumb:
 
#74 ·
While working as a sales associate at Home depot in Flint about 13 years ago, a little kid was bugging his mom about having to go 'poop'. He was pretty insistent about it, but mom was unrelenting. Dad was not chosen by the 4 yr old at the time as he was engaged in a conversation with the plumbing deptartment manager. The kid tried to explain the urgency to mom, but she just didn't quite get it. After a while, the kid took manners into his own hands. He walked to a setting display of toilets, pulled 'em down, and after a minute or two he asked his mom for toilet paper...

Another time while working at Circuit City, a little toddler-type human being removed his pants and his diaper, trodding behind his parents who were pushing the sister in a stroller. The pantless kid was pretty happy, as the parents were very oblivious to his actions currently engaged in the wonderment of new technology, as there typical white-trash life was currently devoid of such. After most of the store staff peeked upon hearing of such display by the toddler, he then proceeded to evacuate his colon... yes the little guy pooped on the red vinyl flooring. It was 2 small turds. I, being a manager at the time, went to the janitors closet to obtain a bucket and mop. The operations manager heard what was going on, so he met me and helped. I watched as Eddie began to mop the floor, not heeding my instructions or advice to pick up the turd and then mop. He rolled the mop over the turds, and they seperated into 4 turds. And then Eddie, still not heeding my call of wisdom, mopped over the 4 turds. They seperated and morphed into 8 smaller turds... which then doudle in number to 16 tinier turds... Soon Eddies frustration turned to laughter tainted with disgust as around 30 tiny turds began to melt into a brown cushion of paste. He continued with his near-fruitless effort of maintaining a hygenic floor but then the paste began to turn into turds again as the water was cooling and the paste reformed... It was awful. As he dipped the mop into hot water it would take shape again as a brown paste and then transform back into turds. Tiring of the display of gross scientific experiments and Eddies laughter, and disgusting look of customer, I knelt down with my RIGHT hand, and using a paper towel I wiped up quickly the remains of the science expereiment gone bad. Eddie gave me a look as he wiped up the final remnants of fecal matter with the mop. He looked at me as now I was examining my LEFT hand in disgust. "Whats wrong?" Eddie asked. "Looks like I got some on me" I said, licking my fingers... Eddie threw up leaving me to clean up residue of reaction...
 
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