Sniffing the air afterwards, and suddenly realizing what you want to have for lunch.
:eek: How is that even possible?
No such post would be complete without mind-bleach-requiring images. Roundworms, but similar principle:
NSFW: http://curezone.com/image_gallery/parasites/ascaris/003.jpg
Wait till this happens 1/2 a mile out to sea in a kayak - and all your gear plus a significant amount of food is tucked right behind the seat you are sitting in.
I got cramp from clenching my butt so hard, and my paddling partner in the front kept asking why I had stopped paddling :rolleyes:
Si
Fistula:
The ads I’m seeing are Mitt Romney for President and Total Union with God. 
There* is * no good way to think of Dreamcatcher.
gah - that sounds appalling (a fistula connecting the rectum and bladder, I mean). My son had an anal fistula as a baby - but that just opened up to the outside by the rectum. His was treated with surgery.
However, the reverse procedure is not uncommon in places where medical intervention may arrive too late - if the urethra or bladder is badly damaged (by genital mutilation, infection or childbirth), the bladder can be re-routed to the rectum if repair is impossible. Not ideal, but better than the alternative (incontinence, social rejection, sterility, death).
Si
This one’s kinda lame, but I once drank a black cherry frozen coke from Burger King. My poop the next day was green. Not just kinda green; we’re talking tree-leaf green here.
(just as a reminder: if its in a spoiler box, its TMI)
There was that one time I went to a Thai restaurant and had one of the hottest dishes on the menu. A few hours later… …I was blasting what felt like hydrochloric acid out of my rectum. I was damn near screaming, and somewhat surprised that the out-flowing spew wasn’t vaporizing the water on contact. Hell, I was surprised it wasn’t dissolving Kohler’s finest ceramic commode. By the time I was done, I felt like my insides had been used for boiler-pipe. There may have been some blood on the TP. And there, in the bowl, were some undigested hot peppers from that dish, defiantly daring me to flush them. I pity any microscopic organisms that were living in the sewer lines that day…
I think I’d’ve wished for total union with God if I went through that anal fissure business. :eek:
After one bout of diarrhea, that idea made splendid sense to me too.
Worst that’s happened is that I’ve found the loo roll has run out and I had to phone downstairs for replacements. And to think my ex berates me for playing backgammon on my mobile in the loo 
Sophistry & Illusion:
la la la, I’m just pretending that’s staged with a handful of straw or noodles! la la la!!!
So…if your sister washed the spoon and put it back in the silverware drawer, you wouldn’t know, right? 
The rerouting of bladder to rectum (I think they used to just connect the ureters to the recturm) isn’t the only option. A better option by far is the construction of a bladder with ileum (or repair of the bladder with a patch of ileum if possible, called an ileocystoplasty), although it often requires a catheterisable passage (e.g. Mitrofanoff appendicovesicostomy) to be created too. Not pleasant operations but the person will be fully continent.
Medical techniques advance - as does the english(???) language.
It would be better if the situations that require this sort of repair didn’t occur in the first place.
Si
They should totally make Hugh Laurie say all this next season.
Whatever lets you sleep at night. 
racer72, I really hope you meant 50 millimeters.
Hell, I’d pay real money to hear him utter such words.
Apparently, most folks here have only had gross things happen while on the toilet.
I was in the Phillipines, after a six month deployment via aircraft carrier. I’d had some leave time saved up, so I stayed in Olongopo (sp?) City for ten days.
We were warned before hitting port not to drink the local water, as a small epidemic of dysentary was currently making life interesting for everyone there.
I prudently followed the no-tap-water rule, but had a slight memory lapse when it came to screwdrivers with ice cubes in them. So I drank a shitload of them, not realizing that the cubes were, of course, made with local water.
Fast forward to eleven days later. We’re haze gray and underway, and I’m waiting for us to pass the 25 mile mark, so that I can dump some leftover food from the mess decks.
You have to keep in mind that I was off the boat for about a week and a half, so when the waistcat unexpectedly launched an F-14, I was surprised, to say the least. The screwdrivers expolded out of my nether end, filling up my pants approximately halfway to my knees.
Luckily, I had the pant legs tucked inside of my flight deck boots, so I merely had to dump the trash, then head up to the nearest Airdale berthing area, where no one knew me. After finding a vacant head, I stripped off my now-soaking underwear, socks and pants.
I then had the rare oppurtunity to walk all of the way back to my own berthing area, wearing nothing but my long-sleeved jersey and a pair of boots.
Only passed two Officers on the way.