Ever shit your pants?

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
61

I’ve got a story. Two actually.

The first one: I’ve been out drinking with friends. At the end of the evening I have to walk home because I missed the last metro. I’m only about five minutes away from my front door when the intestinal rumblings start. "Good thing I’m almost home, " I think naively. “I’ll just pass a little gas and feel better.” Famous last thought.

I ran back to my apartment and went straight to the shower.

The second story: didn’t happen to me, it happened to an ex-boyfriend in high school. He was a wrestler. They binge and purge regularly to make weight for matches-- the only thing that matters is your weight the morning of the weigh-in. So, my ex is a little overweight for his class, and he’s been trying all the normal techniques for the days leading up to the match. He’s not eating much, he’s wearing plastic bags to work out in, the whole nine yards. The day of the weigh-in, the whole team makes their respective weight classes. To celebrate, they go to Denny’s.

Ha.

So he ate apparently three breakfast meals, or something like that. Then it’s time to get ready. He gets in the ring, the match begins, and all of a sudden his stomach starts to cramp.

Ha ha.

He lets loose a little fart.

Ha ha ha ha ha.

Except it isn’t little and it ain’t a fart.

Oops.

Yup, he crapped his wrestling uniform.

He forfeited the match, went to the showers, threw out his boxers, cleaned himself up and then stole a pair of boxers from someone else’s locker.

Hey, I sympathize with the, err, accident, but stealing someone’s clean boxers because you crapped your own?

I dumped him. No pun intended.

62

God, I love this thread. Why oh why do I have the maturity of a 12 year old boy.

Poop. Ha!
Poop. Ha, ha!

Poop in pants.

BWWWWWAAAAHAAAAAAAA!!!

Zette

63

I’m with you, Zette…I’m drawn to these posts and I find them freaking hilarious! Keep up the good work!!

64

Like several others who’ve posted, my episode happened while stricken with one nasty, nasty flu virus.

I was in Mexico on a camping/Habitat for Humanity trip. I’ld adhered very strictly to the “don’t drink the water” rule, all the way down to brushing my teeth with bottled water. Still, my last night there, I started feeling queasy. I went to bed early, but around 11pm got up and puked. This happened again at about 12am, but this time I felt the diarrhea beginning to kick in. At first, I was able to keep things under control. But at barf session #3, while convulsing on one end, I blew out the back…I had absolutely no control. You know how hard it is to keep things packed in when you’ve got the runs; add the violent convulsions of vomitting, and well…you’re up shit creek.

I ruined the underwear, which like Zette I promptly threw away. The flannel PJ bottoms were stained, but salvageable, and I did what I could with them. I spent the rest of the morning in the bathroom, blowing alternately from both ends. Man, I was sick. Worst part was having to deal with the 4 hour drive home (as a passenger, not a driver, thank God). I nearly blacked out due to dehydration, but fortunately there was nothing less to blow or puke, so there were no messes.

When I came home, it turned out I had a fever of 103. This, from a person who hasn’t had a fever over 100 since she was 16! Even when I had pneumonia!

65

Well…

I sure hope that writing to this thread has helped everyone get a load off their minds.

:smiley:

66

Hit the submit post a little too quickly…

Let’s see…February 1999. I never missed a day of college due to illness except for a two day stretch during that month. Without a doubt, it was the sickest I have ever been in my entire life. Even the mere memory of it is enough to disturb me.

About two hours prior to bedtime, I began vomiting intensely, so hard that I honestly thought I would rupture my stomach. Even when there was nothing more to bring up, I would experience impossibly strong dry heaves. This period lasted about forty minutes, and I wanted to die.

I collapsed in my bed afterwards, woke up in the morning with a burning fever, and discovered that during the night my underwear and bedsheets became…soiled. The sweatpants I was wearing while asleep were forever ruined, as were the bedsheets. I don’t think I need to speak of the underwear’s fate.

I would continue to have such bowel problems for the balance of the day, but my memory of it is a little fuzzy because I spent much of the following day semi-conscious. As ill as I was, I was embarrassed by what was going on.

67

Well, about three months ago in the last week of ninth grade. During English I had been farting a lot, and one on them wasn’t a fart. I had the shits and shit my pants. So I went to the bathroom and cleaned up and finished having the
shits. My boxers were ruined and I threw them away (I kept an extra pair in my gym locker for some reason)and I went to get these.

Luckily there was only one more class that day and no one found out.

68

I felt the need to bump this. So many bummed-out people on the boards.

I laugh until I cry whenever I read this one.

69

shitting in the can and puking in the tub is so declasse, people! really, the thing to do is to take off the top of the toilet tank and straddle the toilet backwards.

in certain circles, this is known as ‘riding the detox pony.’

as to my own tales of muddy pants, only once or twice have i thought i farted only to find, what my oh so mature pals and i refer to as:

trouser chili

teaspoon in the trou

and my personal favorite, pants pesto.

happened at work once. fortunately, it was a dot com, so i slunk out and went home and no one even noticed.

70

Yes, if you must know, but it was my cousin’s fault. I had calculated barely enough time to make it home from the mall in order to do my business privately when her car broke down right in the middle of a very public intersection. The nearest gas station was a mile away.

The story concludes with my underwear hanging on a limb and me riding home in the BACK of a pickup truck in minus 10 degree weather while my cousin was laughing so hard she nearly puked all over herself.

The moral of the story: 1) When you gotta go, go, even in a public restroom. 2) Always carry kleenex in your purse.

71
  1. Army Leadership School at Ft. Bragg. The rules say that you can’t just walk from one place to another all by yourself. Nooooo, you have to be in groups of 4 or more and march everywhere.
    So one day during dinner, I start to feel that oh-so-familiar pressure in my belly and realize that I have got to go…like, NOW. So I quickly turn in my tray and step outside to wait for 3 other guys to step outside so I can march across the street to the only latrine in the area.

My thoughts go something like this:

  1. Damn, I’m hurting, I have got to go right now.
  2. Can I get away with taking off and running for the john? Maybe.
  3. If caught by a cadre member, not marching and all by myself, would it involve lengthy explanations about just what I was doing? Oh yeah.
  4. Would said cadre member buy my excuse? Maybe.
  5. If they don’t, will this result in 1000’s of push-ups, essays and other terrors? More than likely.
  6. Risk assessment: I’m a grown man. I have willpower. Surely I can wait just a few more minutes.

So I wait, in pain. Ow.

Finally, a group gathers outside the chow hall and we start marching across the street. Just as we cross the street, I realize that, grown man or not and willpower be damned, this nightmare was going to happpen.

I take off running out of the formation and sprint for the HQ building (the only unlocked building with a latrine). As I enter the building, I’m unbelting my pants and heading for the stall. I DON’T QUITE MAKE IT.
Chocolate pudding filling my brown underwear (yes, they were brown to start with), I sit down and finish my business while contemplating my next move. I use the knive on my belt to cut off my underwear. No way I’m pulling those off. I then cut the bottom half of my t-shirt off to help with cleaning the mess out of my pants.
Finally, business is done and now the worst part. I still have class for another 2 hours. I do have spare uniforms but the barracks are locked. So, I screw up my courage. Pull up my damp pants to provide a semiproper appearance and head for the classroom to find the guy with the key, explain the need for getting into the barracks. He looks at me in disgust (screw him anyway) and surrenders the key. I throw my clothes into the washer, clean myself up, change, and head back to class.

Oh, the humanity.

72

Do you live in Oklahoma? That was the last place I saw a Taco Mayo.

73

Well. I can see a common thread here, and that is the “I was hurting, but hilding it in, but was just 2 seconds too late…”

You see…the problem is, you are doing fine, keeping a vice-like grip on your bowels, but when the prospect of salvation from the intestinal Hell you are in appears, you lose your concentration…err, “grip”.

Let me tell you a tale of two shits. One that was not disasterous, one that was. And no, I never have failed to cross the finish line, so to speak.

I was on a turboprop flight to a power plant once with a co-worker - one of those little ones, with no bathroom? On the way out, about 5 minutes into an hour and a half flight, the cramps start with no warning whatsoever. In a panic, I start to assess my options. There are none. My co-worker glumly informs me that the thing to do is to stuff USA Today into your panties as a massive pantyliner, so to speak, and that they have seen this done before. I do not choose that option, although I do grab every newspaper in sight, and bend over double, and concentrate. I enter a state of Zen-like calm, stating to myself again and again in my mind:

“I am an adult!”
“I will not do this!”
“I am in control!”
“Relaaaaxxxx…no, wait! I mean tighten!”

The flight is unbearable, the pain is so intense it makes me feel lightheaded. A couple times, I start to reach for the newspapers, but then I somehow overcome it. We finally land, on time thank Goddess, but THEN…I think "OK…you need to make it to the bathroom. You know where it is. Maintain control! Do not break concentration! So, contrary to what every primal urge in my brain was screaming, I walked slowly, steadily, still repeating my mantra “I am in control! I am in control!” And even in the stall, I maintained my physical and mental control, slowly removing clothing, carefully wiping down the seat, preparing. And then, finally, I made it. No muss, no fuss.

In the airport before the flight back, I had taken 3 Immodium to prevent potential atrocities (also ensuring that I would not need to go for another 2 weeks) and offered some to my co-worker. They refused, laughingly, saying they didn’t need it.

About 20 minutes in the flight, my co-worker turned to me with a face that was ashen, and begged me for the pills. But they did not work, for it was far, far too late. I saw the newspapers go into the pants, and then a horrific smell filled the small cabin. It was monstrous. And we have never spoken of it again.

I have no idea what it was about that flight.

74

Hi, I’m Elly (Hi Elly!)… and I’ve shit in my pants…

Can’t you all feel the * loooove * here?

Yeah, shit happens, doesn’t it. I’ve had the sphincterdam break once… it wasn’t pretty…

… I can’t believe I’m doing this.

I was in church. Now, you have to understand, I never go to church… it was Christmas. I didn’t have the heart to tell my grandma I was… recovering… from… well, the party of the night before. Never mix lots of coffee with booze and bran-based Christmas Cookie Treats…

Just like Zette’s fart-gone-bad, I had the same expression on my face - first shock, then wonder, then the bitter realization…

I’m sure they could smell my yultide gift a few pews down. Oh, the humanity. Oh, the embarassement.

I kept telling myself that I could turn to the priest and say, “Your reading of the gospel was so boring that I shit in your general direction.”

I feel your pain, Aha. We can start a support group.

E.

75

Another thought came to me, as I re-read my post. It seems that an appropriate book to read about using meditation to prevent anal disasters would be titled The Tao of Poo. :wink:

76

I remember I was 16 and I went out on my very date ever. Of course, before I could take the girl out, I had to sit in the living room and meet the parents. You can imagine how uncomfortable that was.

So there I am, sweating, nervous as shit, trying to make small talk with Mom and Dad trying to convince them that I’m a good guy. Then . .the unthinkable happened:

A little gas.

So here I am a total nervous wreck and now I have intestinal pains to boot. Being totally nervous, it never occured to me to use the bathroom. I figured, we won’t be here long, I can hold it in. But after about 15 minutes of this, I couldn’t take it anymore . . .I couldn’t help it, and I let out a little toot. Boy did it smell.

"KING!!!" yells my dates Mom. I’m like. . .what the FUCK ? It was then that I noticed that there my date’s family beagle was sitting right by my feet! She thought THE DOG LET OUT THE GAS!!!

About 3 minutes later, were still talking, and I get another gas attack. The dog’s still sitting there, so I think, what the hell, I expel more vapors . . .

"KING!!!" yeeeeeEEES!!! This dumb bitch actually thinks it’s the stupid dog that is gassing out the entire living room!!! This is perfect . . .so I decide to let it out, and MAN did it feel great!!!

PPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFWTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!

"godDAMMIT, KING!!!" the mother yelled again . .
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"GET OVER HERE BEFORE HE SHITS ON YOU!!!"

77

OK… I add my name to the shit list of fame. I too have shit myself…

While my story may not be as fantastic as some of the other tales… it happened at possibly one of the worst of possible times… Yes, that’s right… On a Date!

Good god! Could things possibly have gone any worse that day. We were killing time in the mall before our movie… we stopped in the food court and were talking… we both had pops and were eating… I believe… Taco Time…

Anyway, the best way to describe this is Sneak Attack… Blitzkrieg of the bowels. No warning, no gut wrenching… sitting there talking to a fine member of the opposite sex… suddenly… <BLOOP> Trying to keep a straight face and keep all your posture as you realize you desperately need to excuse yourself to the bathroom in the WORST POSSIBLE WAY! I was wearing jeans and boxers (and let me tell you… boxers are the worst to wear in this situation.) I casually walked to the bathroom… ran to a stall… and cleaned up. Jeans were fine, no showing. Threw the undies away in the mall bathroom.

We’ve now been seeing each other for 2 1/2 years… I confessed what happened to her by now… I can’t believe she didn’ tknow what happened then.

78

Very true. It has no where to except down your leg.

79

I’m going to take a dump in my nice clean bathroom after this thread… it just seems like I’m a fortunate guy like that!

80

Dude, I never even considered that this could be done. You may have just changed my life.