I helped a cat-loving sister-in-law who didn’t believe in litter boxes clean up her place once when she was moving. I thought that was bad, but it was nothing compared to these stories.
My unit was stationed out in the middle of the desert nowhere for the beginning of Operations Desert Shield/Storm. We had makeshift latrines set up. There was no roto-rooter truck to come by and empty the “collections,” so that was left to us enlisted folks.
Each latirne had a series of catch barrels. Think of a 55-gallon drum lopped off to the bottom 3rd and with handles attached. Every morning, the duty crew had to drag those containers out and take them to the pit.
Well, how do you get barrels full of shit and piss and vomit (yes, we had a couple of resident bulemics) and feminine items to “go away?” Burn it. Of course, shit and piss et al don’t burn without help. So we had to stir in diesel feul. And I mean, stir. We had a “stick man” who took a long stick and stirred and stirred while someone else poured diesel in and lit it up. The smell of the burning was, uh, intense and unforgettable. And we were up close and personal.
Do these things want to secede from Canada, or merely want their languages counted alongside English and French as official Canadian languages? Has the Quebecois government weighed in on this?
/I kid, I kid.
…stares in horror…
into my open (mid shout) mouth.
I’ve lurked through zit threads. I’ve lurked through the Cooler of Death. I heard the story about the person who had to do surgery on a cat whose fetuses had died.
I am convinced.
That is the single most disgusting thing that has ever existed or ever will exist on the SDMB. If you disagree, please, don’t enlighten me about what I’ve been sheltered from. :eek:
Oh. My. God. I was going to share a story about the time we found a lunchbox in the cabinet with a tupperware container containing three month old chicken, and opened it. (No, the perpetrator has not lived it down.) The details would wilt in comparison to these stories, so I’ll leave it at that.
The Quebec government? Hell, the last time I defrosted my freezer, I got a letter from The Hague.
One:
A barn owl came in to the clinic once. Maggots had infested it’s face (probably from an old wound). They had eaten away a goodly portion of his eyes and skull. He was still alive. Sort of. Like the way “Sloth” from Seven was still alive.
I’m just glad that I hit his jugular on the first try. Euthanasia solution works faster when it’s in a vein. But, I had to grab hold of that maggot infested head and hold it still long enough to find the vein with the maggots crawling all over.
Heh, y’know, that kind of reminds me of a story my Dad had from the Marines (it may have been second hand—he wasn’t a part of it)—when a couple of new arrival Marines were ordered, perhaps too ambiguously, to “burn the shitters.”
Well, needless to say, the job got done. But I think they had to build the replacement latrines themselves.
Contributing to a pile 7+ tons of tsunami debris, cleared off the sea floor, piled up on the beach, that waited three months in the tropical sun for a barge to come and take it away.
It was mostly bits of houses, clothing, the stock from shops, even a grand piano - but inevitably within it were bits of people. I found a femur and a bit of hip, rotted green.
Foolishly I also had a sip of a bottle of beer that had been rescued from the seabed too, and it tasted like the debris smelled.
I got used to the smell in the end, but it was foul almost beyond imagining. I can still conjure the odor in my mind at will, and I still smell it in my dreams.
Early in my hunting career, I shot my first buck. A small 4 pointer. I wanted some sort of a trophy to remember it by, long after the meat was gone from my freezer, so I decided to do a ‘European mount’. This is nothing more than stripping the tissue from the skull, leaving just the skull & antlers.
I decided that the best way to get this done was to hang it outside in the woods… it dried up, and not a bug was interested in cleaning the flesh for me. I then decided to soak it in water, to soften things up, and hope it’d all fall away. The reconstituted dried flesh, in a water bath, soon found plenty of things to eat it away… but then I had a cleaned skull in a broth of foulness.
I emptied the bucket too close to the house, and for a week or two, the stench was horrific. I spilled a slight amount on my clothes, and those never came clean. They went to the dump shortly thereafter. A gag comes to mind just thinking about it.
Think “bleach” next time, Butler.
Yeah… for me the worst was chicken grease when I worked at Cala. We’d normally cook between 25 and 35 chicken a day in a big rotisserie, and we’d have to dump in every day into a bucket. That wasn’t too terrible, but when we had to go dump the buckets into the big barrel at the opposite end of the store… man. That was rank. Damn near vomited every time.
While working for a cattle ranch in my youth I was …ahem… selected to go to the slaughter house to help move the cattle. While in transit (in a two-level cattle trailer) a cow died. And was mashed into a pile of goo. In the bottom level (four or five foot ceiling). And left over the weekend. I had to shovel that out, then scrub the trailer clean. I quit when we got back to the ranch.
-cleaning the hair out of the shower drain
-moving some stuff around in the fridge and realize that Old Drippy (legendary friend made of mold) was living in there and attempting to coax him out.
-my dog unwraps and eats condoms (delicious!) When this happens you have to pull them out when you see the first sign of them
-any sort of animal fecal test I perform on a weekly basis
-during a hospital internship watching a post-bypass foot amputation
-once I left one of my dog’s pig ears in the back seat of the car for a really long time. Next time I saw it, it was covered in maggots. I had to rubber glove up and remove the colony. The car was never the same to me. I should have called a priest.
A couple…
My spouse and I were both on our periods, heavily. My old dog, Wizard, got into the trash. For two days, I had to clean up bile-covered used tampons and diarrhea-covered used tampons off my carpeting. 17 in all, I recall…
This past summer, a friend noticed something furry in a fenced-off area in her barn. Since she is squeamish, and it was obviously dead, I told her I’d get rid of it for her (Ain’t I nice?)
Turns out, the barncats had caught a rabbit, or maybe found an already dead one, and tried to carry it over the fence. They got it nicely stuck, and the disintegration process allowed it to get further down in the fence. I ended up having to pull apart a rotting rabbit, piece by piece, to get it into a garbage bag.
There is always pouring Hydrogen Peroxide down a dog’s throat to make it barf back up what it just swallowed - to find that it was a rotting dead mouse upon its barf-covered return…
For some reason the guys from the city who were supposed to get rid of road-kill deer tossed all the guts of said deer on the ground before taking the carcass. No idea why, but it was a bad idea at the entrance to a public nature center. When I found the source of the stench days later (in August) I had to dig a hole and shovel rotting innards into it. Rotting, splitting, oozing innards.
A friend took the cake, and earned my undying gratitiude, though. A few years ago, JustThinkin’ and I were in Australia for 3 weeks. A housesitter was watching our critters. Turns out one of my dogs got loose from her and ran. She contacted everybody she knew that knew the dog, and a massive search was on - with the understanding to NOT let me know (what could I do?).
3 days later, my friend had a hunch, and started searching along the railroad tracks. This was in August again, mind you… She found my dog, who had been crushed by the train immediately upon getting loose. She carried my rotting dead dog a quarter of a mile back home in her arms, because she knew I would want to confirm that it really was her. Another friend got an unused freezer in our basement working, and they stored my pup’s body until I could get home and bury her.
'Nuff grossness yet? I’m sure I have more, if I let myself think about it…
Whoa. Those are good friends. Poor doggie.