Ever shit your pants?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
41

Oh man I almost did last night.

I was at karaoke about 20 minutes from my houseand my stomach started acting up. I started deep breating and that normally settles me down. I was able to last a little while but then I started feeling it again. I left to go to my car then started heading home. Every time I hit a bump,I got progressivly worse. Worse than this I got stuck at every light. I finally made it into the house and to the bathroom thankfully nothing had leaked out but it was close. As soon as I sat down there was a force 10 explosion

42

Well, most of you probably know about the time I pissed my pants from the “most embarrassing” thread a few weeks ago.

I have not (yet) shit my pants as an adult but I have come terribly, mortifyingly close.

It was my birthday, 2 Nov 1994. I had been out at the Brickskeller here in DC with my friends celebrating, and finally the last few stragglers decided to call it quits. One of them threw a couple of bucks at me for cab fare since I was still finishing my beer and he wanted to go home.

Foolishly, I decided to spend the cab fare on one more beer and then walk home.

For those of you who do not know Washington, the Brickskeller is located at approximately 21st and ‘P’ Streets NW, whereas my dorm was on Georgetown campus at 37th and ‘O’ NW. According to Mapquest, the total distance is 1.8 miles. A fairly hefty piece of walkin’ under the best of circumstances.

Which this was not. By 23rd street I was quite aware that I ought to find a bathroom; by 25th Street I was very aware that my body had suddenly decided to conduct a very urgent missile defense test and was howling for launch.

And there wasn’t a damned toilet in sight. That area of Washington between Brickskeller and Georgetown is either ritzy residences, well-guarded embassies, or stores that close shortly after the business day concludes. So I kept on walkin’, concentrating on taking as large steps as possible without risking separating my glutei by the tiniest amount.

By the time I got to Georgetown my coat was off, my shirt was drenched in sweat, and I must have looked like I was simultaneously on crack, meth, and speed. I found the first public toilet on campus that I could find and thanked whatever fortune had smiled upon me that the door was unlocked. I barrelled into a stall, even managed to lock the door and hang up my coat with one hand while getting my pants off with the other.

And I didn’t miss. The damn thing was a true monster, easily a “one-and-a-half-times-around-the-bowl” type of deal. And the vagal response was truly beautiful. I’d never felt so mellow in my life.

So of course I go straight home, where I encounter my roommates entertaining some friends. They see me soaked to the marrow, face flushed, and the wild-yet-chilled-out look in my eyes, and ask what in the name of God happened to me.

Not missing a beat, I replied “I just took the best shit of my life.”

Needless to say, as the song goes, the party broke up.

So anyway, that’s my poop story.

43

Guilty as charged. Do a board search for my name and the words “Turkey” and “Hotel room”. 'Nuff said. :eek:

Luckily, I’ve never shit my pants as an adult, although, like some others, I’ve had some close calls.

44

Oh yeah. More than once. (Also lactose intolerant but didn’t know it until after a sigmoidoscopy and a barium eneme ruled out polyps, etc…)

The absolute worst event was after a lunch of blackened prime rib and several cups of coffee. How stupid is that, even for someone whose bowels behave normally? But it was so good. Anyway, about 10 minutes after I got back to the office, I was rushing to the bathroom when one of the managers stopped me and asked some stupid question.

Did I say “Excuse me, I’ll get back to you”? No, I stopped and chatted long enough with the son of a bitch that by the time I’m in the stall and pulling down my jeans, it’s too late. Poop on the back of my shirt (it was a long shirt), my legs, and on my shoes.

I was able to wash body and shoes quite thoroughly, but there was nothing I could do about the back of the long (white) shirt. No way I was going to tuck it in and risk stinking for the rest of the day, so I yelled for the intern, who brought me one of the company’s logo shirts. (I told her I’d spilled on myself at lunch.)

I’m okay now, but I’m never without Immodium A-D, at work and at home, just in case. Wonderful stuff.

I can’t believe I’m hitting Submit. Just another wonderful sharing experience on the Dope, caused by aha. (Who else?) :slight_smile:

45

I swore I would never tell anyone…

It was my first day of Jury duty, and since both the municipal court and my husband’s job were downtown, we agreed to meet for lunch. We were waiting for lunch to arrive when it happened. **Zette ** said it so well:

I, too ran up to the ladies room, discovered that it was only my panties, wrapped and tossed them.

Then I had to go downstairs to explain to my husband what had happened. He had the sense to treat the issue with appropriate gravity (until after it was all over). I went back to his office and called the Jury people and told them that I would not be returning and that they didn’t want to know the details. Then I rode the bus home clenching my naked butt inside my jeans.

46

I asked for your forgiveness because I take care of people and I should be better than what I wrote. It was a “cheap shot” and I am sorry for taking it.

Humbly,

Quasimodem

47

Not my pants…mainly because I wasn’t wearing any.

My ex-wife and I could get pretty weird on occasion–sex was frequently on the verge of disolving into humor. That’s why it happened.

We had been fooling around one night, and were about to get to the main event. She was horizontal; just as I crawled on top, I had the urge to fart–since we were that kind of couple, I let it rip. Alas, it wasn’t a fart…

ME: “Oh shit.”
SHE: “Very funny.”
ME: “But I’m not beingfunny…”

Fortunately, the then-MyssesEcks had less bladder control than most four-year-olds, so she wasn’t about to make fun of me.

48

“Come on handy don’t hedge…you can tell us we are your friends.”

Well, you see, there is a nice rocky coast on Monterey bay, so perfect place for doing an emergency landing, if you catch my drift.

So, aha, when you gonna start a topic here to follow up with this one called ‘Did you ever pee your pants?’

49

Well bladder control is not in my area of expertise handy but I am currently studying it.

50

Yup.

The Ecuadorian Rainforest is the worst place to get the squits. Believe me.

We were trekking and I was eating these pills that are meant to cork up your asshole like nobodies business. We weren’t allowed to shit in the woods due to all the bugs/spiders/scorpions and these little bastard Fire Ants that reduce grown adults to blubbering heaps of pain. I did NOT want anything biting my ass.

But these squits were not to be beaten, just as I got back to the toilet my bladder erupted all over everything in sight It was SO disgusting. Over trousers/boxers/floor/shoes. I laughed until I smelt it.

ewwwww…

51

hmmmm…I’m not sure it qualifies, I have never crapped my pants but I have had the turtle head action going on now and then (you get the drift? right?) and sometime the good ole’ turtle head would leave a nice little mark on my underwear, I don’t think it qualifies as crapping my pants but close.

52

spooje raises his hand.

Yes, I have. And I have irritable bowel syndrome, had it most of life.

I was about 14, in Tennessee, mowing the lawn of a church. I was alone(my grandfather was to pick me up at a certain time, as he was off fixing a fence or something), the church was locked, there were only a couple of houses in the area. I felt the impending attack coming…

I wasn’t about to go to a strangers house and ask them if I could blow out their toilet bowl. I wasn’t about to defecate on church grounds. And I wasn’t prepared to drop my pants in the Tennesse woods(I had a strong and realistic fear of snakes). I held it as long as I possibly could, but Gramps was little tardy coming to get me.

So I crapped my pants.

53

woody, you now have the dubious honor of being the first poster to make me laugh until I’ve cried. Thanks.

Olent, we share a birthday.

I have no story to contribute, just commiseration, a pat on the back, and some guffaws at your expense.

54

Christ. Why am i doing this?. Okay.
::pulls up a chair and joins the gang::

When I was around 13, I think, I went with my sister to pick up her paycheck at Oakwood Waterslides. If you live anywhere near Manteca, you have heard the annoying commercial they have. So yeah, the parking lot is a dusty gravel like space with little trees spaced about every 15 cars or so. As far as I can remember. My stomach started hurting on the way there and I told her I’d just sit in the car while she went and got her check. Bad Idea. Had I gone with her I would have had many opportunities to use the bathroom. But no, I sat in the car and just waited…and waited. Until it became apparent that I had to use the bathroom soon. Ten minutes later my sister has not yet shown up and I’m growin into a panic. The nearest bathroom is at least 5 minutes away from me and I couldnt spare that much time. So my mind races, what do I do?!? I reassure myself that she’ll be back any minute and she’ll speed me to a bathroom. I get out of the car and look for her. No sign. Just other guests coming out of their cars and heading off to the park. We are parked next to a tree and I size up the situation. Can I shit right here and get away with it? Theres too many people and I just about start crying because I don’t know what to do. Finally I see my sister, and I wave her frantically over. I guess the look on my face was enough for her to jog over. I tell her that I have to go NOW! She tells me to squat near the tree and she’ll hand me some napkins she has in her glove box. So while I’m pulling down my pants, it becomes apparent that I’m two seconds too late. I defecate all over my pants. I start sobbing and spraying and its just a horrible sight. Meanwhile the great sister I have starts laughing at me. Enough that she’s gasping for air and turning red. I wipe myself the best i could and pull up my pants half way. She refuses to let me SIT in her car,so she lays down towels on the back seat and I lay down. We go home,and I’m still crying,humiliated and hating everyone at the moment. When we get home I run straight to the bathroom and into the shower.I don’t even take my clothes off. I hose them down while I’m in there. ::sigh:: And theres my pants shitting story.

BTW…I’m secretly happy that this thread came up again. I laughed so hard the first time it came around.

55

Among friends, this is one of my most popular stories.

This happened around the age of 25. A Greek buddy and I were out drinking and ended up with 2 lovely girls back at their apartment. Things progressed until, eventually I was seated on the couch, looking at photo albums with one girl. On the adjacent couch, under some blankets, was my buddy and the other girl…doing whatever is done under blankets at 2:30am.

Now, after a night of drinking and some White Castle burgers, I had a bad case of “angry ass”. Every 10 minutes or so, I would excuse myself to the bathroom. Sometimes to piss, sometimes to pass gas.

One of these times turned ugly. I was standing in front of the toilet, relieving myself, and felt the need to “toot”. Next thing I know, I have a steamy, hot “hershey squirt” running down the back of my right leg.

I panicked. I quickly locked the door and took off my shoes, socks and pants. My underwear was destroyed so I wrapped it up in toilet paper and stuffed it into the garbage. With the remainer of the roll, I proceeded to clean up my leg as best as possible.

By this time, I had been gone too long and things were starting to look suspicious. I still smelled awful, so I grabbed a bar of soap from her shower and rubbed it up and down the back of my leg, deodorant style. The only thing left to fix were my white socks (well, the right sock was now a muddy shade of brown). I put my pants back on and pulled them low, so that when I sat down, the hems wouldn’t hike up and reveal my fecal secret.

When I got back to the couch, I sat down and said in a loud voice, “Ekana scata mesa ta pantelonia mou!”, which means, “I just shit in my pants!”. I wish I had a camera to capture the look on my friends face as he popped it up from the blankets. I said, “Prepi na figame tora!”, which is, “We have to leave NOW!”.

We both stood, said good-bye to the girls and made a hasty retreat.

And I’m still single.

:slight_smile:

56

malaka, you posted that somewhere before, I remember laughing my ass off (no pun intended) at the time.

As for me: I was doing calisthenics prior to going on a run (Marine Corps.) I was in my “catch me-fuck me” shorts (you know, those thin, silky PT shorts with the lining) and was cranking away on some crunches, leg lifts and hello-Dollies. All goes well until I stand up.

Hmm, I know a stashed some change for a pop after the work-out, I think a dime or something sliped into my shorts. think I.

Pulling the lining away from my leg, a tiny, hard little turd drops out. :eek: No one noticed, so I bolted back inside to do a commando wipe only to find…nothing, clean as a whistle!

That’s my story, I hope you’ve enjoyed it.

57

In 1980, I was getting ready for a trip to Indonesia. Got the cholera shots - 2 shots, one week apart. The first one didn’t faze me at all, the second one damn near killed me.

My neighbor had a key to my apartment and came in after no one had seen me for a couple of days. I had been delerious, sicker than a dog and incontinent all over the place. She found me half naked and passed out in the toilet. I had shit myself dry, but hadn’t made it to the john.

That cost me a day in the hospital while they rehydrated me and shoved a large cork up my butt…

58

Thus chronicles Aha’s version of Ptaco Ptomaine. Never will he return there again.

/em knocks on wood that he can hold it.

I went on a date with a guy once who shit his pants on purpose. The moment he did and smiled maliciously was the last moment I ever talked to him again. The filthy bastard. Accidents happen, doing it on purpose is unforgiveable.

HUGS!
Sqrl

59

Every once in a while, out of nowhere, I’ll get an attack just like aha described. Usually it’s no problem. Sometimes, though, it is. I fly in one of those spy planes that went down in China. I’m the guy in charge. These things require a two-hour preflight, followed by (typically) an eleven-hour mission, which requires me to be inside the aircraft for a good 12 hours, at least. This is a Naval aircraft, which means it’s too cheap to have a bathroom in it. Well, there is a bathroom, but there’s not a toilet. We bring with us a little stand-up urinal which gets emptied after each flight. The women, when they need to go, have to use a cup, then pour it in the urinal. If someone needs to do something other than piss, it’s called “breaking the code.” This involves 1) going into the head with a few trash bags 2) doing your business in said trash bags 3) stowing it, tightly wrapped, underneath the floorboards, which will eventually lead to 4) smelling up the back half of the cabin. As punishment, the first guy (or girl) to break the code must take all the other bags out at the end of the flight, since once the code is broken, the damage is done and people are free to chip in with their donations.

So, one day, at the beginning of a flight, I’m feeling a bit strange. Then the cramps start. Very painful cramps. Within an hour I’m ready to explode. So, I’m faced with a decision: break the code (and boy, would it be a messy, smelly affair), or suck it up and try to get through another ten hours of agony. As the boss, the consequences would be totally humiliating. I’d never be able to live it down, and I’d probably wind up with “Dumpster” as my nickname… the guys would be laughing about it, no doubt, but still, I can’t think of anything more embarrassing to happen to me on the plane, and then I’d have to carry off not only my mess but anyone else’s who chipped in…

So I held it in. For ten whole hours. Longest flight of my life, but also the best landing (because it was so welcome) ever.

60

The story of my crapping my pants:

I was in 4th or fifth grade, and heading home on the highschool kid’s bus. I felt the urge to shit while we were riding home, and like everyone else, the urge got stronger as time went on. I must have looked like i was having seizures because i kept moving and shifting in my seat. I knew the inevitable was about to happen. The bus soon got to the stop, and i got off. I started to race home (home was a couple of blocks away, and i had to cross a field to get there. I kept clenching my sphincter muscles, trying to keep it in. Alas it would not stay. Just as i started across the athletic field i let it out, and could feel it fill my undies. God it stank. Fortunately for me no one was walking with me, and not too many people were walking the same route.

As i got home i immediately went into the bathroom. Sure enough, there was a mound of brown in my undies. I remember sitting on the toilet and shitting the rest of it out. I then took my undies, and washed them out. I then threw them int he washer to wash the rest out (by then i had already learned to do laundry). I dont think i even told my mom or brothers (god forbid my brothers know). I wouldnt care telling them now, in case any of you were going to say that :).