Once, a coworker told me about the vacation he’d just taken in unrelenting, unstoppable detail, when I was obliged to remain in place.
He went down to some tropical spot (forget where) with a buddy. They rented a bungalow that “came with” a “maid” who was available for any sort of work. Despite protest, he went into great detail about what he and his buddy did to her. Who put what where, what it sounded like. This was bad enough, but what seemed to titilate him more than anything was the fact that she was seven or eight months pregnant. (Don’t get me wrong, nothing wrong with that at all, when it’s not an exploitive relationship.)
He told me that there were plenty of photographs and videos, and offered to show them to me.
It’s not like I wasn’t registering shock and horror throughout the entire monologue, either.
How the hell does someone not guess that volunteering information like that is going to affect how other people interact with him? Jesus Christ.
Another guy gave me a stack of documentation that accidentally included a bunch of Polaroids of him and his girlfriend having sex. He just grinned when I gave them back to him.
One: My aunt Rosemary. She was widowed when she was 76 and immediately took up with a new suitor. She had quite the sex life with this person and went into detail one time at a family function. He had a penile implant that she was more than happy to do the pumping, she had to be on top because he had a condition that made him shake too much, and worst of it all, he had to wear adult diapers and there was an accident once.
Two: BF of an old cow-worker. He was a Doctor at an ER and they had a homeless person come in with, as he described it, “a real bad itchin’”. It was a hot Minnesota July and apparently he was wearing a snowmobile suit. He hadn’t taken it off for a couple months. And by “hadn’t taken it off” I mean just that. Even to defecate. They removed the snowmobile suit and found that he was covered in feces and that feces was covered in maggots that were burrowing through his skin.
I was chatting with a receptionist at a business I used to call pretty regularly. I asked her about her weekend, and got to hear the story about her trip out to the lake, the boat, the waterskiing, and the waterskiing accident/involutary enema/douche that ripped her vagina open and required 55 stiches. :eek:
Very true. I think the big ick factor was her using her little brother’s toys – while it was insinuated that she had kept the toy in question (and there was no mention of what the specific toy was, carnivorousplant), the thought of her using it and then returning it was a bit off.
That, and she was inserting the toothbrush. Most electric toothbrushes I’ve seen don’t have bases that look…comfortable. It just made me wonder, since she never specified about that either.
I opened that link about ten minutes ago and then continued happily through the boards, ignorant of what was awaiting me. I now have a very unsettling version of the “How Will I Know” video stuck in my head.
I think stealing a toy from your kid brother to masturbate with is pretty damned nasty. Not just TMI-wise, but that’s not fair to the little kid. That and I hope she wasn’t turning around and using that toothbrush for its original purpose as well.
I didn’t open it, because I figured it was just a sex thing. Wow.
That reminds me: A girl I know pretty well once told me she sometimes got so constipated that she resorted to digging in her ass with a spoon. :eek: I didn’t want to know her that well.
The first one: I was 24 and a summer associate at a law firm. My 25 year old colleague–six months pregnant at the time–bursts into my office, flops down, and starts telling a very TMI story. We were what I would call casual acquaintances. I don’t remember the story, just this one line:
“You know, I really hate anal sex, but every time I get drunk, I become convinced that I will love it, and I do everything I can to get my husband to do it to me. Do you think that’s weird?”
The second one: This is second-hand. A bunch of people my best friend works with got really drunk one night. Suddenly, one of the men volunteers this:
“I’m not going to give details, but…if you eat enough celery…you shit rope.”
He proceeded to give details. Apparently, the rope-like bowel movement only came out halfway the first time he went to the bathroom. So he spent a lot of time trying to decide how to handle the problem of a celery shit rope hanging out his ass. Pull on it? Cut it off? Finally, he wadded it up and stuck it in his pants, and left it there until he passed the rest of the rope.
My best friend gleefully shared the story with me.
My daughter was in a serious accident a few years ago and fractured her pelvis (amongst other things). She had an external fixateur to help hold the bones in place while it healed.
About 12 weeks later, she started complaining about extreme pain in her hip region, near one of the pin sites for the fixateur which had been removed by that time…she was readmitted back into hospital (pale, febrile and in obvious distress) but the medical staff believed her to be malingering and just kept her for observation for a few days. :rolleyes:
Eventually, after I finally cracked it at the Doctors, they sent her for an ultrasound of the wound site…
And there…
When they applied the sonar apparatus to her leg…
In glorious pustulent technicolour…
Her hip/leg exploded with a massive eruption of infective gunk spraying the bed and the walls and the face and body of the radiographer. Oh god, it was gross.
It was a sight to behold, indeed. I would’ve thrown up myself, except I was too busy laughing at the look of sheer terror on the the radiographers dial. They had to quarantine the room for three whole days until it had been given the all-clear by the Infective Diagnostician team. Stupid bastards.
Anyway, they finally admitted she had a very nasty golden-staph infection with osteomyelitis/septic arthritis of the hip joint that needed four operations in five days to clear. Nine years later, age 23, and she is looking at a hip-replacement operation because of their slackness. :rolleyes:
I’m guessing it doesn’t faze me a whit because I have no siblings. Anyway, mostly sex stuff doesn’t bother me where poop stuff will put me in the corner.
Thanks to my in-laws, TMI has almost no effect on me. My mother-in-law has described every detail of every surgery, injury, illness and body function that she or anyone she knows, has experienced.
My sister-in-law used to work in a clinic, and would tell about every single patient that came in. Recently at a family gathering, she revealed this little gem:
We were eating dinner, and she was really shoveling the food in. She’s pretty heavy and has dieted most of her life. She said she wasn’t going to diet anymore, she’s tired of it and doesn’t care about trying to look sexy anymore. As long as her husband doesn’t mind digging through the fat to get to her vagina, why should she care.
