Hahahahahahahaha. Classic.
*I’m great at cybersex, by the way.
If I were you, I’d buy some panty shields. They’re thin enough that you’ll hardly notice it, and no one else will either, but they’ll keep you drier. (I think. I’ve never quite figured out how guys arrange themselves when dressed) If anyone asks, you’re buying them for your girlfriend.
So, I’ve never told anyone this story, except my mom who previously told me a similar tale. This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me during the work day…when I was with America Reads we had to go to the library quite frequently. One day we were there and I realized that it was time to change my tampon. I decided since I didn’t have to pee, I’d just pull it out, put in a new one, and be on my merry way without having to sit on the toilet, which looked sort of scary. As soon as I pulled it out there was a gyser-like gush and I ended up with blood everywhere- pants, legs, socks, puddled in my shoes…Needless to say I was mortified, particularly since I was in a stall, not one of those single toilet deals. All I can say is I’m thankful for two things : 1. There was a lot of toilet paper, 2. I was wearing dark brown cords. I managed to clean myself up enough that my co-worker didn’t worry that I’d killed someone in the ladies room, or at least didn’t ask if I had. I will die happy if that never happens again.
Once when I was jerking off, I got some toilet paper caught on the end of my dick, and it burned whan I went to the bathroom.
Not long after I had first started my period, I was chosen from the sixth grade class to go on a public access show where kids would play spanish games. I got all decked out in my new jeans, new boots, new shirt. I thought I was the coolest.
Well I got to school and started my period. I had a pad on, but for some reason blood was flowin’ out of there like it was on a mission. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone, so I went on my merry way.
We got to the place where the show was being aired, and me and the other kids sat down to be told what was going on. Well, when I stood up, there was a blood stain where I had been sitting. Very smoothly, I sorta wiped it off with my finger. After that, I went to the bathroom and discovered the whole back off my pants were DRENCHED in blood. But, ah ha- they were black jeans. It was terrible though. Before and after the show, I went to the bathroom every chance I got to soak up the blood with toilet paper.
Well I went back to school and ended up tying my heavy dudy winter jacket around my waist. I got home, the the jackets liner was soaked in blood.
IT SUCKED.
Well, there is Hortensia…
Robin
I’ve had this happen my fair share of times. It happened freshman year of HS at lunch. Only a little bit of blood had come out, but it was noticeable. A male friend saw it, pointed at it, and laughed uproariously. Uh, thanks, jerk. I was so embarrassed I cried. He still brings it up like it’s the funniest thing in the world. Man, I hate that jackass.
I think the worst physical feeling (not emotion or anything like that) is when the seat of your pants is soaked with blood and you have no way of changing them so you have to walk around all day with nasty, bloody pants. I cringe just thinking about it.
TMI! TMI!! TMI!!! TMI!!!
Friends.
While you are without a doubt enjoying this thread (hey, you wouldn’t have opened it if you couldn’t stand TMI), perhaps it is also about time you remember your friendly neighbourhood moderators. Because we may not be posting in this thread, but God knows we have to read through all of this.
URK.
Slainthe.
(downs glass of Dalwhinnie, straight)
Or as Coldfire would, in fact, say: Because vee may not be posting in thees thrwead, but Gut knows vee haff to read through all of thees.
sorry. I couldn’t help it. The hour is getting late.
I wonder if the mods have ever come across a thread that in their opinion is so sickening, they just shudder and pass it by in the future. Honestly, even if I had done any of these things, I would never admit to it.
Maybe one of the requirements to be a moderator is “Have a really tough stomach.”
I had a blister on my ass from sleeping in boxers that were a little too big . They rode down my ass and the friction of my tossing and turning combined with the heat from my waterbed caused it to form … and grow. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the sumbitch popped while I was on a date (I shit you not!) and now there is a beautiful purple scar on my booty where the blister used to be.
-Syko, a.k.a. “That Freak With the Scar on His Ass”
I had a similar problem fron boxers that were too big. Mine didn’t get as bad as a blister, just sort of like a raw red spot.
Okay, this oughta gross ya all right out!
I delivered my first son breech. Not only was he upside down, he had his feet up to his ears and came out butt first. Since he was full term and weighed 7lbs11ozs, this was bad enough by itself, however a few days later it was to get even worse. As you can probably imagine, after the delivery I had a stitching job like a roadmap. The doctor had done a cruddy job of the episiotomy, so naturally everything tore the rest of the way. I lost track of the stiches, but I think there were more than twenty. Actually, as it turns out, it was more like one continuos stitch. Instead of tying off each stitch, the idiot had just done something resembling a running blanket stitch. About three days after I got home, I could feel something sharp when I wiped in the bathroom. I also felt, well, sorta LOOSE. I finally told my friend and neighbor Diane about it. She decided to take a look, which didn’t really bother me since she’d been my labor coach. (Mr zoogirl chickened out). Well, she took one look and yelled for Mr zoogirl. He came running, and I got to spend the next few minutes with the pair of them staring at my butt. “Uh”, Diane finally says, “I think you better go to emergency. You’re coming undone!” Sure enough, the first stitch had let go and the whole lot was starting to unravel! I finally got into the ER, and got to have yet another person stare at my butt. By this time, I’d come undone maybe half an inch, but I was imagining a hole the size of the Grand Canyon! The doctor decided it wasn’t worth restitching, since it was half healed, and sent me home. Imagine what the next week or so was like. I kept expecting the whole thing to let go and split wide open! Believe me, I walked VERY carefully for a LONG time!
I won’t even mention the 'roids! :eek:
Maybe Tuba should hire me as the TMI Moderator. I wouldn’t have any particular forum… I would just come in and take charge whenever another Moderator couldn’t stand dealing with a particular thread.
Man, that would be cool…
Gee, I wonder, does moderating cause you to become all grown-up and stuff? 
It’s all yours.
Christ, I’d hoped I’d seen the last of this disgusting thread. You people are really disturbing. Not necessarily that you do these things, but that you would make them so public. In effect, you are pasting this stuff up on a damned billboard. Thousands of people come through here ever day.
How do you know, your grandma isn’t reading this thread?
Speaking of grandma…
Nah, I’m kidding. I’d never tell y’all about that.
You and me both.
I just found this thread, so excuse my tardiness.
UncleBeer,
Does your response, “Not necessarily that you do these things, but that you would make them so public” indicate that you are holding back on us? Do you have something to add to this thread? I betcha it’d be really good too…
I have plenty of gross stories, but I’d rather take this opportunity to share something I observed my father doing - and no, it isn’t anything sexual (although, I do have a story about that as well).
My father is a drunk and as such he enjoys drinking alcohol to the extreme. He never wastes a drop. I didn’t believe him when he first told me this, but one night I came home from a night of partying and found him very intoxicated sitting on the couch with mug of beer in his hand. He had just finished it when I came in. To add to the senario, he was dressed only in his tighty-whities (nothing new on that count except he weighs around 300lbs and looks like a refridgerator…) I saw him belch and then throw up at least three mugs of beer all over his lap, the couch, and the mug itself. Well, never a man to waste anything, after he had finished recycling (to the point of dry heaving) he looked at me and then the mug and then drank the spewage that he had just deposited in the mug. He soon passed out. I sat through the entire episode in shock. I was maybe 16 at the time and I’d seen him drunk many times before, but that was the first time I’d witnessed that. It wasn’t the last though. After that I saw him recycle his beer two or three other times- only when he was severely intoxicated though.
Yum. And you ask me why I don’t drink?