I have…
3 times, in fact, in the last 3 years, that I can specifically recall. No, I’m not some freak, I suffer from Ulcerative Colitis. If anyone has any questions about it or suffers a similar affliction, drop me a line on e-mail…I’d love to talk to you.
Maybe I’ll start another thread on it sometime soon to avoid completely hijacking this one.
I did it twice, both times while commuting to NYC.
The first time I’d only been employed for about 4 months. It was September of '89. I struggled epically on the bus ride in to retain myself. I got off the bus at the Port athority and walked carefully downstairs. I looked at the public bathrooms with the drug dealers, and the homeless hanging outside, but didn’t have the courage to go in. I walked out of the Port athority and to the Burger King next door, but they didn’t have a bathroom. I was in physical pain and sweating. That’s how bad I had to go. They said they couldn’t let me use their bathroom there, even though I begged. It was really quite a horrible pain as I walked back, determined to use the bathroom in the Port Athority. Halfway across the floor I lost control of myself completely. I was wearing boxer shorts and it just fell down my legs and out onto the floor. It was a combination of wet and solid matter and there was a lot of it.
I found a stall in the bathroom and cleaned my legs and pants as best I could. Then I went to the men’s store in the bus station and tried to buy a pair of pants. My card got denied.
I called my mother and told her what happened. Then, I took the Park n ride bus through the Lincoln Tunnel. My mother had brought towels for me. I went home hosed my suit off and threw it in the washing machine, then I took a very long shower and called into work to tell them I was sick. Getting home took over an hour, and I walked around soiled for that hour. It was very embarassing.
The second time was a year and a half later. I was living in the city, and taking the subway to work and the same overpowering need came over me. I held it in deep physical pain all through the ride and all through the walk to the office. I held it in the elevator and when the doors opened, I thought to myself “thank God, I’ve made it!” and promptly crapped myself. Fortunately I wasn’t wearing boxers and fortunately it wasn’t liquid. Instead of getting off I just hit the button for the lobby and took the subway back home (standing.)
Both were horrible experiences.
I’m neither “disgusted” nor “offended” at this thread or any of its responses. Not in a “bad mood” either. As I said, I can’t imagine any earthly reason why you or anyone else would care whether or not a bunch of strangers did this. You’ve explained that you don’t really care, that you’re doing it to entertain yourself at a boring job. Question answered, so I bid you good day.
Camaraderie?
I did once. I was alone at the time, and in the car on the way to my house, so it wasn’t a problem. It was also very small… like the amount of toothpaste you’d put on your toothbrush.
Also known as “JuicyFart”.
Moderator’s Notes:
No, my opinion of you doesn’t necessarily carry any more weight than that of anyone else. Where the weight of my opinion is applied, however, is to the content of this message board, and more specifically, this particular forum. I would also like to note that not reading your posts isn’t an option for me; I’m required to read as much as possible in this forum. In fact, before I posted my opinion, I read all of your posts. It’s not from this thread alone that I’ve formed my opinion of you, which is low and getting lower. Further, I suggest you do not attempt to tell me what to do, or not do; that is highly inadvisable.
I have not admonished anyone in this thread—up until my previous paragraph in this post. I simply gave my opinion of the poster and not of the topic. In no way did I comment on the topic. Anything more than a cursory reading of my post will show that. Another piece of information for you to consider: My remarks to Rhinostylee were made only after seeing the sheer volume of dreck he’s posted. In reading his posts, I find example after example after example of what I believe to be his immaturity. It most certainly is not a case of singling out this particular topic.
And a note to any and all that would comment on my actions here - all further discussion shall take place in the BBQ Pit. That is the proper forum for complaints and other commentary on moderator actions.
If we’ve suddently raised the bar to preclude immature, repetitious, mundane, pointless dreck we’ve lost the vast majority of the board. The hamsters can now rest easy.
Moderator’s Notes:
What did I just say, plnnr? If you have remarks regarding my comments/actions, put 'em in the Pit. Isn’t that it? And once again, I’ve said not a goddamned thing about proscribing immature material. Read the post. Or are you being deliberately dense?
Does this include wetsuits?
I had called in sick the day before with “stomach problems” and really thought I was better. As I’m circulating in the OR, I hear my bowels rumbled ominously. We’re almost done and I think I can always use my patient’s bathroom if I can’t hold out another hour----bad protocol, but I didn’t care. As I arrange my patient, who’s not that okay yet, in her room, I feel warmth, trailing down the backs of my legs inside my scrubs. By the time I get her stabilized, I feel many trails of stickiness on the backs of my thighs, to my knees. I grab from the stock supply of maternity disposable undies and quickly squish along to the locker room, grabbing clean scrubs. I do a sponge-bath sort of thing in the bathroom, rinse the pants, throw my panties in the trash and emerge to finish the (thankfully) last 1/2 hour of my shift. Change into street clothes, go home and take a hot, hot shower.
I just shit reading Otto and Uncle Beer’s posts. Really. I like to see how long I can go reading the SD before I have to run to the toilet. Sometimes I don’t make it. Sorry Unca.
Well…You know when you have some business on deck but you can’t tell if it is a fart or a poo…
It was a fart.
whew!
Never my pants, exactly, but at times, I have indeed moved my bowels at inappropriate times.
Once, I had the flu, and I lost control of my bowels, in bed, 3 times in one night!! My poor hubby was stuck helping me change the sheets. Good thing it didn’t happen more than that, we were running out of clean sheets!
Again, I was in the recovery room, recovering from a kidney stone retrieval. I was awake enough to feel what was happening, but not awake enough to control it, and my bowel moved. I kept apologizing to the nurses, and they were like, “Oh, don’t worry about it. Happens all the time” Well, if it’s happened to me at other times, I’m grateful I was still too far under to realize it!
After reading the OP, I didn’t know what to expect.
After reading the link to aha 's thread, I was physically tired from laughing so much.
After reading the rest of this thread, I felt like filing my tax return.
I had a good story for this, but I’ll wait until the mood gets more jovial.
Yes, this has happened to me, I think it probably fairly common.
As a matter of fact, it happened to me about a week ago. I did not feel the pressure on my colin at all, I thought it was just gas. Wrong, I pooped in my drawers. Was not too bad, just embarrassing.
I worked in a casino several years ago. I was on break and I took a whiz on the way back to work. I smelled a horrid smell. I looked over and I saw in the stall, the part between the end of the wall and the floor, a turd on the floor and poop on a poor man’s socks and pants. Must have been on the slots to long.
Damn those buffets!
the technical term for it is called… a fumble.
one can also call it ass spits… but a fumble sounds more innocent.
Interestingly enough, I posted this story today on another message board that had a similar thread. I also think I’ve related the story here before. Regardless…
I was around 22 years old when a greek friend and I met two girls at a bar and ended up back at their apartment. I hadn’t been eating very healthy (think Taco Bell) and had been drinking most of the night. My friend and I both “claimed” a girl and sat down on 2 couches that were next to each other around a coffee table. My friend and the other girl disappeared under a blanket and began doing what people under blankets do. My girl and I began looking at vacation pictures. sigh Anyway, every 5 minutes or so, I would excuse myself to her bathroom…either to pee or just release some building pressure. On about the 4th trip, I was taking a leak and I tried to squeeze one out. The next thing I felt was warm liquid shooting down my right leg. I panicked. I removed my shoes and pants and underwear. My drawers were soaked. I wrapped them up in toilet paper and shoved them deep into her garbage. Then I attempted to dry my leg with more toilet paper. By this time, my trip was taking much too long and she had to have known that something was up. I still stunk, so I grabbed a bar of soap from her shower and began rubbing it up and down the back of my leg - a la deodorant. I quickly put my pants back on and pulled them as low on my waist as possible. As my white sock was now brown, I didn’t want to sit down and have my pant leg hike up revealing my mess. I made my way back to the living room, sat down and said loudly, in Greek, “Ekana scata mesa ta pantelonia mou!”. This means, “I just took a dump in my pants!”. She had no idea what I was saying, but my friends head quickly popped up from beneath the other blanket. I wish I had a camera. We both nodded, said a poilte goodbye to the girls and left.
…and a new one (not about crapping my pants, but close enough):
Warning…TMI below…
When I was about 24, I was on a plane heading from San Diego to Denver. I was with a group of about 10-12 friends. We were scattered around the plane. I was sitting about 6 rows back. Next to me was sitting a very attractive lady. We began flirting. Now, for the past several days I had been on an eating, drinking and smoking binge taht is hard to compare. Needless to say, I had angry stomach. When the “fasten seatbelt” lights finally turned off, there was a rush to the front of the plane where the bathrooms were. I waited patiently until the line got short. Then, I excused myself and headed up front. Two of my friends were sitting in the front row and immediately knew why I was there. When there was only 1 woman in front of me, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see the woman I was flirting with. She was in line. I offered then begged for her to go first. I was going to put a hurting on that bathroom and I didn’t need her to follow my act. She refused, so I decided to go as quikcly as possible to avoid suspicion. I entered, sat and pushed as hard as I could. After only a few seconds I was done. I stood and turned to inspect my accomplishments. Know, if you’ve ever been in one of those airplane bathrooms, you know how they look. The bowl is stainless steel and has a little trapdoor at the bottom. I had left a load about the consistency of mud and about the size of a softball stuck to the side. I flushed and watched in horror as the blue water swirled round and round but didn’t move the pile. I flushed again and again. No luck. Time was against me so I quickly wrapped my hand in toilet paper and proceeded to poke and prod the pile until it disappeared down the hole. I washed and made a hasty exit. Once ouotside, I warned the lady behind me about the stink the lady in front of me had left. She entered and I bent down to tell my friends what had happened before returning to my seat. As they were laughing, I stood to walk back and nearly knocked myself backwards hitting my head on one of those low hanging tv monitors they have in the isles. The first 5 rows of the plane erupted in laughter. sigh
Hey, I have the twin sister of that, Crohn’s! I’ve had it since I was a kid, but a few months ago when I was having a flareup I too had the, ah, “I could have sworn that was gas” condition. I don’t usually suffer from diarrhea that badly in a flareup, though… badly enough that I run to the bathroom frequently, but I catch the stuff.
On the other hand, the first time I tried to use a toilet for #1 in Japan, I ended up ruining a pair of pants in a public bathroom… but that’s a horror story for another thread…