If you enjoy a selection of good poop stories like I do.....

I've got two of these, but I'll start with this because it goes along with your story.

When I was in junior high I was terrible about not having my house key fall out of my pocket into parts unknown. Being the eldest of three kids living in the house (a sister and a step-brother), I came home alone while the other two went to a day care since they were still in elementary school. The rule was I supposed to call my step-mom when I got home to let her know I made it safe and there was no problems. If she didn't get a call from me, she would assume I had been locked out and would return home to let me in (more like she wanted to make sure I wasn't off lighting something on fire or causing other mayhem). This day I lose my key and have to wait around for someone to get home to let me in. Of course, step-mom doesn't think anything of my not giving her a call so I'm outside my house for hours.

And at that exact moment, my bowels open up.

Does anyone else's bowels decide it's a great time to unleash when you are doing something where taking a dump is inconvenient? Cleaning the house. Got to poop. Cleaning the car. Got to poop. Working in the yard. Got to poop.

Anyway, it felt like a water balloon just burst inside me and the only thing standing in the way of pantsmageddon was the strength of my 13-year-old sphincter. After trying and failing to force a window open into my house, it was becoming urgent and I had to find a spot in the back yard. Luckily there was a corner spot along the fence that had a bushy tree that provided shelter. I dug a hole, dropped a runny deuce and gathered some leaves to wipe. I buried it and waited for everyone to get home. Of course I did a horrible job at wiping, so there was a giant shit stain on my pants. I hauled ass when the door was open to get up stairs and change my pants.

 

The second story recently happened when my wife and I went to go see a movie one town up from our house. I have a pretty bad case of home bowl syndrome and the muse struck me pretty hard leaving the theater. After a little bit of arguing about what we were going to do next, I convinced her to go to my dad's house. He was out of town and we wanted to get dinner at a place in that town. So win win. I unleash unholy hell upon his toilet. Everything was fine until I reached for the flusher and nothing happened. I hit it a few times and nothing. I opened the tank and there was no water. I left the room and told my wife the toilet wouldn't flush. After she got a look of horror and we talked about how we were going to fix it (which included just leaving it) I found a bucket and a working tap and started to fill up the empty tank and flushing from that. It took a couple of rounds to clean everything out but it worked.

Found out later my dad had turned off the toilet in that bathroom because he needed to fix something on it and didn't want to leave the water on for something to go wrong all weekend. Oops.

 

SS - bowels!

 

Funny name for a ship

But that's what I get for having something funny playing in the background while typing that up. I fixed it

 

You fixed it to "bowles"?

 

I was a resident assistant for a few years in college, which means that I unfortunately have my fair share of other people's poop stories. One time, some drunk stumbled home at 3 a.m., pulled the fire alarm and all the residents stumbled outside until the fire department told us that we can return to our rooms. It seemed like a routine inconvenience.

A few days later, I walked into the office just as my boss got off the phone with a furious mother. It turned out that after her daughter and roommate vacated a room they left unlocked, someone had wandered in and decided to use one of the girl's drawers as his toilet. The mother was demanding that she be reimbursed for a few pairs of her daughter's pooped-on jeans (I remember her quoting some absurd price, although I admit that I know little about the price of fashionable jeans). The dorm declined to pay for the jeans, which I guess was kind of... crappy.

 

Goddamnit I quit writing for today

 

For my fellow pro wrestling fans (ah, heck, the rest of you can enjoy this also):

 

Fast forward to the 1:00 mark.

 

I like Drew Magary's writing a lot, but I skip over the poop stories. Too yicky

 

Many years ago, I swear, I was watching one of the late night talk shows (not Carson, maybe Letterman or Leno) and they had a guest who talked about some really bizarre campfire antics.

Basically, after food and a fair amount of alcohol, people started a "pooping for distance" competition. This guy claimed he'd launched one over 20 feet.

Does anyone else recall this? I've occasionally looked for a video clip of it, and have failed to find it.

The whole thing was disturbing. And I always wondered about each participant being really sure, REALLY SURE, that they had a cannonball lined up for launch as opposed to some kind of liquid grape shot.

I'd really like to find that clip. All I can tell you is that it was a long time ago, well before cornhole became a game.

 

When I was in Mexico years ago I ran into some Australians who were telling me they enjoyed trying aerial dumps - standing on the sink and trying to hit the can. There would be a fair bit of physics in that endeavour, I suspect.