In my pants. I’m pretty sure it was easily the most embarassing thing I’ve ever done. I was talking on the phone when I thought I was passing gas. . .but that wasn’t quite right. I should have known my body was out to get me. I probably turned bright, fire-truck red, because my cheeks felt like they were on fire. I wanted to hang up the phone right then, but how do you end that conversation? “Excuse me, but I have to go. I shit my pants.” We kept talking for about 15 minutes, and I made sure not to say a word about it. I then went, cleaned up as best I could, washed my clothes, at least the ones I was wearing from the waist down, to be safe. I debated whether I should even post it here, because I’m sure this will earn me all sorts of cute nicknames (anybody remember the Chewy incident some months back?) and other ridicule, but I felt like I should own up to it somewhere, and since I’m sure as hell not letting any of my RL aquaintances know (RL? It’s just a rumor I heard about once )
So, go ahead. Laugh and embarass me further. Maybe it will make your day seem not quite so miserable, because, hey, chances are, you didn’t shit your pants.
I once had the flu and I puked in my pants. You see, I rushed to the bathroom, knowing one end or the other was going to explode. I was scared of shitting my pants so I decided to sit on the toilet. Whew. I was safe. Until…
I leaned forward and puked in my pants.
When my husband came home and saw that I had scrubbed my pants, he asked what happened, and I told him I had puked in my pants. He asked me if that was just a cute way of trying to say I shit my pants. No, that’s what I was trying to avoid. :smack:
I’ve done this as well, if it makes you feel any better. That sort of eyebrow-raising moment of great surprise. Whoop. “I’m 33 and I just pooped myself.” Sort of suddenly slip off the couch to do some handwashing and a shower with not a word to the spouse.
There was an episode of the Tom Green Show or was it Jackass, of a kid who said he could fart on demand. He did, he could, that is, until the last “fart” that wasn’t. Splatt!!
If you’d like, I can oblige… Bein’ nice and all like that…
So over the summer, it was hot. I don’t do hot very well. Which is to say WE HATES IT, PRECIOUS…
So I was naked. At the computer (with completely innocent reasons; It was too hot to do anything other than try and distract myself). Experienced the same sort of gaseous buildup, shifted a little…
That’s an interesting story, Polekitty, but the last bit about the cats intrigues me. . .how were they amused? I hope they didn’t start playing in it, but that seems funny to me, for some reason.
Yes JimSox5 that evil has befallen me, too. Who is that undiligent member of the colonic council, charged with forestalling these indignities? In a properly structured bowel, presence of liquid or a semi-solid should cause the TEL or Trouser Alert Level to go to High Brown. Any party wishing to pass would then have to show a GO or gaseous only credential. It’s the slippery stinkers that undo us at the worst moments, I tell you.
I was watching an infomercial the other night and people were calling in and talking all giddy about how marvelous their stools have been after using the product. The person on TV would say, “Have you compared your stools to your children’s?”, and the caller would say, “Oh yes, I have been doing that for quite a long time and recently my stools have been longer and firmer than even my teenaged son’s”.
Yikes. You have my sincere sympathy, but I’ve gotta ask. Why did it take 15 minutes to end that conversation? Couldn’t you have faked a ‘someone’s at the door’* or other call ending excuse?
I probably could have faked something, but I was honestly afraid I would let something slip out that I would regret later. . .you know, kind of like I already did phsyically.
I think I’ll save “I have to go - I shit my pants” for future conversations with people I don’t want to talk to any more.
My worst episode (and isn’t it just amazing what we’ll post on public message boards) was during a phenomenal intestinal flu that ended in the emergency room with dehydration. It was the usual story - thought I was passing gas, and pooped up my bed with horrible diarrhea. Yes, taking a shower and changing your pajamas and the bed and doing a load of laundry is exactly what you want to do when you have the flu.
(I don’t remember the Chewy incident at all - care to remind us?)
Thank god no cats had to be washed in the ensuing cleanup… But they were amused in that distinctly feline way they get when, say their humans do something incredibly dumb like shit the chair, trip over carpet fuzz, drop objects even after lengthy futile attempts not to drop said object, or accedently shut their penis in the sock drawer.
)
