:eek: Out of everything I’ve read in this thread so far, this wais the most disturbing to my particular sensibilities. “Judith Prietht” is right!
My gross story is nowhere near everybody else’s and at the time…not gross…just very upsetting.
I sold my townhouse and was moving into an apartment about 2 years ago. I moved the cats over to the new place and I went out to eat. I got home around 1am to find blood splatter all over my kitchen. I find the cats and it turns out my kitten (6 months old) Boo had cut the pad of his paw on something. I bring him in the bathroom and I am doing everything in my power to stop the bleeding. In this town, there is no calling your vet at 2am, you have to go to the “veterinary emergency room” and just walking in the door is a ton of $$.
For about 2 hours I was locked in the bathroom with my kitty while his paw is spitting blood. Now, we all know what cats do when their paws get wet, right? Yep, you got it - he was constantly shaking his paw around to “dry it off” and in the meantime, getting me and my entire bathroom covered from floor to ceiling in blood. I finally gave up at 3am and took him to the emergency room.
That was the upsetting part. Now to the really, really disgusting part.
We were at the vet for about 2 hours. Which was the perfect amount of time for all the blood to dry. Hubby and I spent hours on our hands and knees trying to get the dried blood out of the grout in the floor, off the wall, the sink, the tub, the toilet and every other nook and cranny you can think of. Yeah, that was disgusting.
The funny thing is we could not get all of it out no matter how hard we tried. So, when we moved out there was still some speckles of blood in the bathroom. Hope that bathroom never becomes a crime scene - the entire bathroom will glow bright blue if they ever spray luminol in there!!
It’s utter bullshit. A rotten cow carcass would not have the structural integrity to be standing upright and intact unless it’s tangled in a support scaffolding like a thorn bush or a barbed wire fence, and even then it would be a huge stretch.
Note from the prize department, there will certainly not be enough blue ribbons for all of you. However, if you make any person vomit and cry with laughter from the same post, you will qualify for our “Chuckles” award.
The award, sadly , is a cow placenta that’s been ripened in the sun for two weeks. The maggots are free. Please go to barfbuckets.com for more information.
A couple years ago before I dropped out of college I got to view one of the most disgusting things in recorded history.
The college I was going to (Antioch, if anyone cares) had an annual spring bike race in which a champion from each of the dorm halls would compete out in a huge field behind the campus. “What’s gross about a bike race?” you might say. Well, this was no ordinary race.
There were three rules to it: no spectators can touch the bikers, they can’t use anything sharp enough to draw blood, and nothing hard enough to break bones. The spectators were allowed to hold ammo for their dorm’s racer, though.
And so it came to pass that we all got our drink of choice and sat around(upwind) to watch a bunch of people ride around on bikes and fling trash, rotted fruit, dog crap, and even more disgusting items at each other in order to slow down their opponents.
You’ve never lived until you’ve seen someone hit in the face with an unknown(my girlfriend guessed opossum, I guessed rabbit), rotted-black, leathery piece of roadkill so old it doesn’t just splatter on impact with her teeth, but bursts open in an explosion of rot that we could all see from a good twenty yards away.
You know, I believe this is quite possibly the most disgusting phrase one can create in the English language.
Sure, that’s sort of nasty, but you have to admit that it makes more sense than Volleyball Almondine.
Well, if my first story was utter bullshit then I get to go again.
When I was living at home for the few months before I got married, I went out for nachos with some of my highschool friends. We went to Applebees, the mecca of prefab meals. I had one beer. ONE. And half a plate of nachos.
They gave me some gas.
Later that night, as I slept peacefully, I awoke with what felt like a gas bubble and I said “Hmm…I’m in bed, alone…I’ll just fart that sucker out”
I think you know where this is going. It wasn’t a fart. It was fifty furlongs of pure liquid shit, all over my bed. And when I say liquid, I mean, like nachos puree. It was thick like a milkshake and it never stopped coming out of my ass. So I had to get up, a twenty one year old woman, strip my bed, sneak past my parents’ bedroom and do poop laundry at 2:00 in the morning.
I don’t know which would be better band name: Fifty Furlongs of Pure Liquid Shit, or Poop Laundry.
It’s like the guy waking up in bed in The Godfather… only worse.
I don’t have a gross story to add, but I’d just like to say that I really think this thread has the potential out surpass the Pimple TMI thread in terms of being compellingly revolting. A true classic in the making. Thanks, Eve. 
Hello, I’m Don Kirshner.
Tonight on “Rock Concert,” we’ve got an exciting double bill for you: Fifty Furlongs of Pure Liquid Shit, recorded live on their “Kick Out The Crapper Tour” of the Midwest in 1975, with opening act, Poop Laundry.
Formed in 1973 from the remains of two earlier bands, Corn in My Turds and Captain Sphincter and His Dingleberries, Fifty Furlongs of Pure Liquid Shit hit the airwaves in early 1974 with their hit “Grunt, Grunt, Splash,” and who can forget the fabulous Summer of '74 hit, “Pull My Finger.” They’ve been headlining ever since.
Poop Laundry is an up and coming band out of Hershey, PA who I know you’re going to love. They combine the rockin’ pneumonia, the boogie woogie flu, and bloody feces into one of the most entertaining, and imaginative stage acts on the scene today.
So put your hands, and your ass cheeks, together, and join me in welcoming Fifty Furlongs of Pure Liquid Shit and Poop Laundry. Live on Rock Concert!
FFoPLS could be a band name
Poop Laundry: Racehorse.
“And, they’re off! Toothpaste is being squeezed out on the rail, Toupee is going on ahead, and Poop Laundry is trailing behind!”
Thanks. I was afraid I wasn’t using enough adjectives to convey the feeling adequately. I feel better now.
What the hell are you trying to do to me, iampunha? I almost died laughing reading this thing, and I don’t appreciate those kinds of attempts on my life.
Everyone else, go read it! That’s an order.
This is not in the same league as some of the stories here, but it’s my personal best.
My son caught himself a nasty bug awhile back. Put him in considerable distress of the tummy. The diaper changes were many and unpleasant.
On one of these changes, the diaper was loaded front to back and side to side with a pile of poo having the consistency of half-melted ice cream and a truly poisonous odor. Ah, well, these things happen. At least it was contained. I held my breath and set the load off to one side.
I turned to get the diaper rash ointment (the frequent blowouts were wreaking havoc on the poor kid’s backside) and from behind me I heard the fateful sound:
shlork shlork shlork shlork
I turned back to see the dog with his nose buried in the diaper, slurping the mess up just as fast as he could.
I shooed him off, rather disgusted, and finished cleaning up. My son and I then withdrew to another room in the house, waiting for the smell to dissipate.
A few minutes later the dog hopped up on my lap and started panting happily into my face.
To this day I have never yet encountered a smell quite so uniquely disgusting as warm sick-baby-diarrhea dog breath.
plnnr, you are a sick & hilarious individual.
AND I LOVE IT.
You will come to redefine gross and disgusting when you take care of a child, trust me. I had no idea that tiny babies could projectile vomit with such force and distance. Boy babies will pee into your face. You will have poop under your fingernails.
But they’re so CUTE.
:eek: Hooboy, you weren’t kidding. Good freaking god.
I hate to double-post, but damn… vet techs come in second possibly only to ER and nursing home staff in these contests. I’m surprised no one’s come in with an anal sac story yet. A friend of mine says the most disgusting experience of her life was expressing the anal glands of a St. Bernard. I believe the phrase was “gigantic poop zit.”