In honor of lieu, a shitty thread (long)

The BBQ Pit
1

I cannot top any of lieu’s poo stories, but I feel I must share this tale of woe from work yesterday. Apologies to lieu if I cannot strike a match to the hilarious tales of bathroom horrors you provide us.

Being that it was Monday, I arrived at work bright and oh, two minutes before I had to be teaching my C++ programming class. I had no coffee that morning, and staggered to my desk on autopilot to begin setting up. All was going well at that point, students arrived, class began, things were swell. Had a few minor interruptions in the coding, but nothing unusual for a Monday until I heard ‘What is this on my shoe?’

As the unlucky stepper hobbled off to the bathroom not wanting to spread the mess but desperately needing to clean the unidentified goop off her shoe, the room began to take on a rather ripe and overwhelming stench. I thought that no, it couldn’t be, not in here, not in the computer lab, it couldn’t possibly be what I think it is.

Armed with paper towels, water, and lots of anti-bacterial soap, I was forced to approach the mass of semi-solid, dijon mustard colored stink on the floor of my beautiful computer lab. The janitorial staff would not arrive for another four hours, so this was mine to deal with. As I began to sink into hypoxia due to the air pollution which got more and more dense the closer I got to it, I knew for sure that it was.

Yep. It was shit. Not the piles of metaphorical shit that plague the life of every computer engineer and every college instructor in the world. Nope. Not this Monday. With many apologies to my English professors who over the years cautioned me against using the word ‘literally’ far too much, it literally was a pile of shit.

I don’t know what manner of beast eminated that foul smelling dollop of turd, or how they got it to be exactly the consistency of whipped mashed potatoes and the exact color that Bob Ross would’ve called ‘Burnt Umber’ on The Joy of Painting, but by god it was. I have not smelled anything so foul, not even when living in college dorms with large numbers of college guys who were boisterously proud of the fact that they had raided the bathroom on my floor and produced their ruminating odorous Beer Shits for our olfactory enjoyment on Sunday mornings.

I do not want to know who or what left that festering pile of squishy poo there beside the printer on the shiny white tile, but I hope they see a doctor soon. For something has surely crawled its way up their rectum and died in their intestines. Judging by the gut-curdling eminations of olfactory hell coming from that plop of turd, I can only assume that whatever died in there did so long ago.

I have said on occasion that I have a shitty job, and if this is the universe’s karmic way of refusing to let me be a liar, I will never again utter that sentence in any form. Please, please, whatever or whoever’s ass that amorphous thing came from, stay out of my lab.

I’m not going to deal with your shit anymore.

Please, Dopers, don’t flame me too hard. I know I’m no lieu, but I had to squeeze this one out. It was just too much to keep in. Be gentle, this is my first time and all. (First new thread in the Pit, that is).

2

I’m sorry. It was frozen beef and bean burritos. Seventeen of them. And the bathroom was so far down the hall . . . but hey, at least I got away with it. You didn’t notice me dropping trou, didja? Or subtly zipping up as I joined my classmates in gasping and wheezing at the stench? Ha! I gfot away with it, Mr. Teacher Man! And I’ll do it again, too!!! I CAN SHIT ANYWHERE AND NO ONE CAN STOP MEEEEE!!!

3

That’s Ms. Teacher Woman, and the men’s room is about 15 feet away across the hall!

Some people. :stuck_out_tongue:

4

I just wanted to point out how brilliant that analogy was.

5

Nope. Even without a y chromosome, if you’re a teacher, you’re The Man.

6

Two words:

Barfy Smile.

7

I feel your pain catsix. I used to work at a convenience store about ten years ago, on the graveyard shift. I’d say you’d be amazed at that things I discovered in the restroom after a busy Saturday night, but I actually think you’d just be disgusted and appalled. I sure was. And I had to clean the shit.

Literally. :smiley:

8

Two words:

Barfy Smile.

Here’s an email I wrote to a friend of mine: (Don’t ask me why I sent this to him, it was so long ago…)
Ok,

So I have a leaky ass

Let me explain before you condemn me.

Early this morn, I woke up, a tremendous pain in my anal cavity. Specifically around my “ugly” lips, you know, the entrance to the vortex of evil. I go to the bathroom, use some TP and water, and wipe. And wipe. I ended up wiping a hole in me, as the darkeningly red TP led me to believe.

So as of now, my hole 'o glory is hurt’n and angry red. My checks are sliding this way and that, by way of liquid shlood (my work of the mixture between shit and blood).

How’s your day?

9

Meatros, that is just absolutely horrendous.

When you wipe so hard you bleed, man, you’ve got some problems.

Makes my day seem much better, thanks!

10

Man, that reminds me of the time I got up in the middle of the night to take a leak, and stepped in a big pile of dog crap on my bedroom floor.

…and I don’t have a dog.

11

When I was little, I awoke one bright nd wondrous Christmas morn to find that Santa had poopied on the floor, poor Santa, and then, oh, Pooooor Santie Claus has stepped in it, leaving a big ol’ boot print in the poo.

“Mommy, mommy”, I exclaimed, “Santa was here and had an accident. He must have dida-reeda!”

My parents stifled laugs and guffaws that I didn’t understand. I was genuinely worried about the poor old guy. I even told my best friend across the street that I KNEW Santa was real because he poopied on our floor and stepped in it.

I later found out it was dog shit and my dad had done the stepping, but in the excitement of pulling off the Christmans deception, he was unable to locate the offending pile. He didn’t find it until I did.

I still wish Santa had been the one to shit on my floor, though. Gee, it made me feel special for years.

catsix, maybe you just got an early calling card from the man in red.

12

If that’s an indication of what will be in my stocking this year…

I’m keeping all my socks locked in a bank vault!

13

Catsix, you did a fine job. I’d like to hear a critique from Master Lieu, just because, but you can hold your head high.

Visualization: 9
Length of Rant: 8.5
Use of Descriptive Vocablulary: 9.3
Overall Score: 8.9

You are DEFINITELY a contender!

14

That was hilarious catsix, as when you wrote ‘What is this on my shoe?’ I imagined somebody was surprised to look down and see a poo pile on top of their shoe.

Hey, how did that get there?

15

I’m anticipating “Dueling Poo Stories” or something. Maybe a Poo-Off, or “Wheel o’ Poo”, where Lieu and Catsix spin a wheel that will dictate the tone of their next creation. The possibilities are endless!

16

Brings to mind some of George Carlin’s ruminations about the subject…

“Ever hear the phrase ‘shit fit’? Man, I don’t even wanna imagine that… he threw a SHIT FIT? Jeez… glad I wasn’t THERE!”

17

As far as I’m concerned catsix, you’re #1. Of course in a shit thread, that’s second place. Lieu is, of course, still #2.:wink:

18

Oddly enough, I now have to explain to a classroom full of students why I just burst out laughing right in the middle of their final exam.

19

ROTFLMAO :smiley:

IDBB

20

I sincerely hope this is my last ‘I found a poopie’ story ever. One surprise poopie in a computer lab is quite enough for my lifetime.

Glad to see everyone else is enjoying the misfortunes of myself and the other instructor who I’ll call Slim.

And don’t worry about the explanations for laughter, fatmac, I have had to do that more than once when students would look up from their C++ code and find that the noise in the back of the room was their instructor turning blue and laughing her guts out.