Ok....so I was gonna let one rip but I thought there might be a chance of me dumping a corn nublet in my shorts so I went to the toilet and sat down.
I then proceeded to shake the 4th floor with a rectal rattle that lasted at least 5 seconds...and that was with me huffing it out with gusto.
I'm sure that Geoff can beat that after a can of beer but I'm looking at the Brits here for some real results. You simply can't eat that much cabbage without repercussions.
Longest Fart Contest
That reminds me of the time I almost shit my pants. On the way to work, having already taken a big dump at about 6:30 am , I was greeted by a strange rumble in my lower abdomen, followed by what felt like a 5 alarm shit preparing for exit. I was about 4 minutes from work at this point, and had already begun trying to calculate a route that would get me to the nearest shitter, as well as minimize the odds that said shitter would be occupied. I hit the parking lot, then busted out of the car in a full sprint, but had to slow down, because running was putting me at a substantial tactical disadvantage in terms of keeping the 'enemy' from pressing forward. So, in race walker fashion, I jolted across the street, up the stairs, and then banked on the second floor staff lounge being open. At this point, I was honestly thinking "Christ...I am going to shit my pants...how will I find time to drive home, shower, throw this stuff away, change, and get back here?" Luckily, though, I made it...with 0.000000000000001 nanoseconds to spare....I pulled the move that I believe Jules once posted about...spinning, dropping your pants, and having shit hit the water the instant before your ass hits the seat.
Anyone else ever found themselves in a similar emergency?
Funny how, at one time or another, we are all slaves to our bowels.
Anyone else ever found themselves in a similar emergency?
Funny how, at one time or another, we are all slaves to our bowels.
A friend of mine worked as a janitor at a K-Mart for a year. He had shit stories not to be believed...people shitting in sinks, people shitting in shoeboxes...but the best one:riddla wrote:Seriously, once I had the enemy at the gates in a movie store. Before I could even make it to the shitter it was too late. Needless to say I left my spiderman underoos as a gift in the waste basket :lol:
He goes into the bathroom to find a pair of shit out underwear draped across the toilet seat, with shit spread all over the floor and walls of the stall. In the bathroom's garbage can, a package of men's underwear, ripped open, with 1 pair missing.
Was that you riddla?
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GONNAFISTYA
- Posts: 13369
- Joined: Sun Jan 23, 2005 8:20 pm
loltnf wrote: Anyone else ever found themselves in a similar emergency?
I did...during a hockey game...and I was in full equipment.
With about 5 minutes left in the game I said to the bench "Gotta go" and down the stairs I went. As I was walking to the change room I was tossing my upper gear off and not caring where it landed. I got to the toilet as I dropped my suspenders, tore my hockey pants down as far as I could and sat down quickly. My ass was still about two inches off the seat as I unloaded.
After the initial relief I laughed because - with my skates still on - my knees were up near my face. Then I realized the door was still open and I stopped laughing.
You ever try leaning over as far as you could to close a door with a bulky set of hockey pants wrapped around your knees, moving while in skates and trying not to slip off the toilet cause of your sweaty ass?
It ain't fun let me tell you.
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Pooinyourmouth_needmerge
- Posts: 181
- Joined: Sun Apr 17, 2005 3:55 am
those girls seem to be mentally retardedPooinyourmouth_needmerge wrote:...and 2 teenaged girls went into the ladies room and smeared shit all over the walls and mirror.
Last edited by The HavoX on Tue Jun 21, 2005 12:31 am, edited 1 time in total.
The problem I had with that one I mentioned was that I was feeling so queezy that the short sprint I tried made me nauseated, so I was trying to figure out if I was going to puke or shit. I pulled the garbage can up and was ready to puke as I shit, but I just dry heaved. Ever tried keeping yourself stable on the toilet while puking to avoid having projectile shit spray the wall behind you when you lean forward? Not fun either.GONNAFISTYA wrote:loltnf wrote: Anyone else ever found themselves in a similar emergency?
I did...during a hockey game...and I was in full equipment.
With about 5 minutes left in the game I said to the bench "Gotta go" and down the stairs I went. As I was walking to the change room I was tossing my upper gear off and not caring where it landed. I got to the toilet as I dropped my suspenders, tore my hockey pants down as far as I could and sat down quickly. My ass was still about two inches off the seat as I unloaded.
After the initial relief I laughed because - with my skates still on - my knees were up near my face. Then I realized the door was still open and I stopped laughing.
You ever try leaning over as far as you could to close a door with a bulky set of hockey pants wrapped around your knees, moving while in skates and trying not to slip off the toilet cause of your sweaty ass?
It ain't fun let me tell you.
I've wondered about hockey gear though...what must happen when a guy in full gear gets the shits.
I'll share my story about getting a bit of food poisoning the day before driving back from seattle across the north cascades highway later (very few shitters along the way...you do the math).
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Pooinyourmouth_needmerge
- Posts: 181
- Joined: Sun Apr 17, 2005 3:55 am
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[xeno]Julios
- Posts: 6216
- Joined: Fri Dec 10, 1999 8:00 am
lol - lovely thread.
the only story that comes to mind (and i mighta shared it in the past) is one day a few years ago on my way to work, my bowels starting producing (horrifically smelly) gas at a prodigous rate. There was no urge to actually take a dump - but the amount of gas going through my system was quite remarkable. I farted my way from the bus stop to the office doors, took my last fart, and went and sat down in the office (I was doing 3d surface modeling for a plastics company).
There's an interesting phenomenon that occurs when an organism allows gas to build up without releasing it. First off, you must understand that the gas is cycled into the rectum in periodic fashion, due to what I presume are periodic peristaltic movements of the digestive complex.
So every few minutes, rectal pressure increases with each internal gas injection. Now there are two ways (that i'm familiar with) that relieve this pressure. Either the organism farts, or there is what I like to call an internal fart. This is where the gas is recycled back up into earlier portions of the digestive system.
This is good for the short term - it buys you more time, as your reservoir effectively increases in volume.
However, it can cause all sorts of discomfort and produce odd sounds. Many internal farts sound very similar to actual farts, with a bit of a muffled timbre.
After a certain amount of time, the organims realizes that it has run out of options. It is physically impossible to contain that much gas within its boundaries. The gas must escape. Either through releasing a fart, or having the digestive system rupture.
I should also mention that immense amounts of "anal aperture" muscle strength are required to withstand these immense pressures. I have actually had the rare occasion where I simply lacked the muscular strength to withstand the assault, and the fart has escaped me utterly involuntarily. You cannot imagine the psychological torment that this causes, as you are often in a crowded social environment when this happens (else why would you be holding the fart in), and it is completely out of your control.
During this particular occasion, my muscles had reached their capacity, and i realized that I would not be able to hold in the next onslaught.
So off I went to the washroom.
You may ask, why I did not choose to do this earlier. This is a good question, and I have what I hope is a good answer.
You see, the spatial configuration of the office space was such that the washroom was in a central location, relative to the office and the receptionist area. Imagine a small L-shaped walkway between the main entrance doors, and the entrance into the office space, with the receptionist desk on the portion of the L closest to the main entrance, and the washroom door in the corner of the L. The distance between the main doors and office entrance was about four measly metres. The floor was not carpeted from what I recall, which meant acoustic privacy was further compromised.
Put it this way: you could hear the flush even from within the office.
The flush of the toilet of the sole unisex washroom on the entire floor.
Secondly, I am extremely sensitive to lack of privacy when I'm taking dumps (and by that time, believe me, a dump was part of the deal once I opened the gates of heaven that was my anus). I used to have major issues taking a dump anywhere but in the privacy of my own habitat, and even now it's a bit of an issue (though I've made great strides).
So off I go into the washroom, only to be confronted with a dilemma of even greater proportions.
You see, when there is a great amount of pressure against a valve, it is a simple law of physics that once that valve opens, all hell tends to break loose. Hell breaking loose can be extremely noisy, if you catch my drift. My goal, while seated on that toilet, was to let out one big controlled fart. This would mean modulating the anal opening which would require not only inhuman amounts of muscular strength, but inordinate amounts of muscular precision and timing.
It took me 45 minutes to release that fart - I would squeeze a tiny bit, then squeeze a tiny bit more, etc.
Despite this, I still managed to make some rather nasty sounds.
It was fucking horrible. I was about 5 days into the job - new environment, etc.
And my first excursion to the washroom took almost a fucking hour. This in a place where my supervisor gave me dirty looks if I came in at 7:03am instead of on the hour. Not to mention I had to wake up at 4:15 in the morning to make it by then.
I got fired at the end of the next week, for different reasons (I wasn't able to learn the software fast enough), but to this day I wonder if they talk about that day in the washroom...
the only story that comes to mind (and i mighta shared it in the past) is one day a few years ago on my way to work, my bowels starting producing (horrifically smelly) gas at a prodigous rate. There was no urge to actually take a dump - but the amount of gas going through my system was quite remarkable. I farted my way from the bus stop to the office doors, took my last fart, and went and sat down in the office (I was doing 3d surface modeling for a plastics company).
There's an interesting phenomenon that occurs when an organism allows gas to build up without releasing it. First off, you must understand that the gas is cycled into the rectum in periodic fashion, due to what I presume are periodic peristaltic movements of the digestive complex.
So every few minutes, rectal pressure increases with each internal gas injection. Now there are two ways (that i'm familiar with) that relieve this pressure. Either the organism farts, or there is what I like to call an internal fart. This is where the gas is recycled back up into earlier portions of the digestive system.
This is good for the short term - it buys you more time, as your reservoir effectively increases in volume.
However, it can cause all sorts of discomfort and produce odd sounds. Many internal farts sound very similar to actual farts, with a bit of a muffled timbre.
After a certain amount of time, the organims realizes that it has run out of options. It is physically impossible to contain that much gas within its boundaries. The gas must escape. Either through releasing a fart, or having the digestive system rupture.
I should also mention that immense amounts of "anal aperture" muscle strength are required to withstand these immense pressures. I have actually had the rare occasion where I simply lacked the muscular strength to withstand the assault, and the fart has escaped me utterly involuntarily. You cannot imagine the psychological torment that this causes, as you are often in a crowded social environment when this happens (else why would you be holding the fart in), and it is completely out of your control.
During this particular occasion, my muscles had reached their capacity, and i realized that I would not be able to hold in the next onslaught.
So off I went to the washroom.
You may ask, why I did not choose to do this earlier. This is a good question, and I have what I hope is a good answer.
You see, the spatial configuration of the office space was such that the washroom was in a central location, relative to the office and the receptionist area. Imagine a small L-shaped walkway between the main entrance doors, and the entrance into the office space, with the receptionist desk on the portion of the L closest to the main entrance, and the washroom door in the corner of the L. The distance between the main doors and office entrance was about four measly metres. The floor was not carpeted from what I recall, which meant acoustic privacy was further compromised.
Put it this way: you could hear the flush even from within the office.
The flush of the toilet of the sole unisex washroom on the entire floor.
Secondly, I am extremely sensitive to lack of privacy when I'm taking dumps (and by that time, believe me, a dump was part of the deal once I opened the gates of heaven that was my anus). I used to have major issues taking a dump anywhere but in the privacy of my own habitat, and even now it's a bit of an issue (though I've made great strides).
So off I go into the washroom, only to be confronted with a dilemma of even greater proportions.
You see, when there is a great amount of pressure against a valve, it is a simple law of physics that once that valve opens, all hell tends to break loose. Hell breaking loose can be extremely noisy, if you catch my drift. My goal, while seated on that toilet, was to let out one big controlled fart. This would mean modulating the anal opening which would require not only inhuman amounts of muscular strength, but inordinate amounts of muscular precision and timing.
It took me 45 minutes to release that fart - I would squeeze a tiny bit, then squeeze a tiny bit more, etc.
Despite this, I still managed to make some rather nasty sounds.
It was fucking horrible. I was about 5 days into the job - new environment, etc.
And my first excursion to the washroom took almost a fucking hour. This in a place where my supervisor gave me dirty looks if I came in at 7:03am instead of on the hour. Not to mention I had to wake up at 4:15 in the morning to make it by then.
I got fired at the end of the next week, for different reasons (I wasn't able to learn the software fast enough), but to this day I wonder if they talk about that day in the washroom...
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+JuggerNaut+
- Posts: 22175
- Joined: Sun Oct 14, 2001 7:00 am
:lol:Fjoggs wrote:that explains the nick. (or doesn't)Pooinyourmouth_needmerge wrote:A guy I know worked at the local shell station and 2 teenaged girls went into the ladies room and smeared shit all over the walls and mirror. Why would somebody do that? I honestly have a fear of shit. Fecalphobia.
I know what you mean about private shitters, jules.
Last Christmas, I had the duty of heading down to my in-laws in Boise for the holidays. We (my wife, me, my mother and father-in-law, my wife's grandmother, my wife's sister and sister's husband, and his parents) were all shacked up in one of those new, but very small, cookie cutter suburbanite houses. These houses were not designed with privacy while shitting in mind. I had been having some real neck problems at the time, and had been taking oxycodone for them. So, in the days leading up to the holidays, I was in an extraordinarily constipated state. I was discussing this with my wife on the way down - letting her know that I hadn't shit in 2 days, and that, when it finally happened, things were going to get ugly, fast.
So, while we were visiting (there for 3 days) I would try and vanish to the commode (very difficult, as the commode was RIGHT BETWEEN the living room and the kitchen - with no extra walls for sound absorption). I'd sit in there and try to shit whatever I could, my efforts generally in vain, as the pain meds had paralyzed my innards and my shit was like a fucking brick - very, very uncomfortable. It didn't help that I could hear every word of conversation taking place no more than 5 feet from where I was attempting to take care of things. I honestly believe the sphincter has a few auditory neurons that can cause it to clinch up in an instinctive manner when it feels that if it opens itself fully, a terrible horribleness might ensue.
The day before we leave I made the decision that something had to be done. I was either going to end up in the ER with an impacted bowel, or I was going to break down and take some laxatives. So, I send my wife off to pick me up some ex-lax, which I took under the assumption and hope that it woult hit me in the middle of the night, while everyone was deep asleep - because what I had in mind would probably awake most of them from a light slumber. So, I take the ex-lax and sit, like a kid waiting for Christmas morning, staring hopefully at the door to the shitter, praying that things would square themselves away before the house was abuzz with everyone getting ready to head back home...which meant a line of many people waiting to use the 1 GUEST SHITTER AND SHOWER.
1 am - no shit
2 am - no shit
3 am - no shit
4 am - no shit and I am getting seriously worried
5 am - no shit and I am pacing around the house
6 am - no shit
6:30 am - Is that movement I feel?
7:00 am - False alarm - and grandma is moving around in her bedroom...FUCK.
8:00 am - People are rising, lazily reading the paper, books, watching TV and eating breakfast. My stomach knots up.
8:15 am - I figure I've got one shot to get into that bathroom, turn on the shower, and use the sound to cover up the sounds of my ass-tearing shit.
I head in, turn the shower on, sit down, and hope for the best. By 8:25 I've succeeded in dropping 1 small nuggett, but Fat Boy still sits, refusing to fall out the open bombay doors.
8:35 - Dejected, I wash down my hair in the sink, leave the bathroom, and take a seat on the couch, knowing that my 1 chance is gone.
8:45 - Time to shit. Now. Right now. Problem - sister in law is in her shower, mother in law is in the other shower.
I'll finish later. But God why is it that if something CAN get in the way of a good dump, it WILL?
Last Christmas, I had the duty of heading down to my in-laws in Boise for the holidays. We (my wife, me, my mother and father-in-law, my wife's grandmother, my wife's sister and sister's husband, and his parents) were all shacked up in one of those new, but very small, cookie cutter suburbanite houses. These houses were not designed with privacy while shitting in mind. I had been having some real neck problems at the time, and had been taking oxycodone for them. So, in the days leading up to the holidays, I was in an extraordinarily constipated state. I was discussing this with my wife on the way down - letting her know that I hadn't shit in 2 days, and that, when it finally happened, things were going to get ugly, fast.
So, while we were visiting (there for 3 days) I would try and vanish to the commode (very difficult, as the commode was RIGHT BETWEEN the living room and the kitchen - with no extra walls for sound absorption). I'd sit in there and try to shit whatever I could, my efforts generally in vain, as the pain meds had paralyzed my innards and my shit was like a fucking brick - very, very uncomfortable. It didn't help that I could hear every word of conversation taking place no more than 5 feet from where I was attempting to take care of things. I honestly believe the sphincter has a few auditory neurons that can cause it to clinch up in an instinctive manner when it feels that if it opens itself fully, a terrible horribleness might ensue.
The day before we leave I made the decision that something had to be done. I was either going to end up in the ER with an impacted bowel, or I was going to break down and take some laxatives. So, I send my wife off to pick me up some ex-lax, which I took under the assumption and hope that it woult hit me in the middle of the night, while everyone was deep asleep - because what I had in mind would probably awake most of them from a light slumber. So, I take the ex-lax and sit, like a kid waiting for Christmas morning, staring hopefully at the door to the shitter, praying that things would square themselves away before the house was abuzz with everyone getting ready to head back home...which meant a line of many people waiting to use the 1 GUEST SHITTER AND SHOWER.
1 am - no shit
2 am - no shit
3 am - no shit
4 am - no shit and I am getting seriously worried
5 am - no shit and I am pacing around the house
6 am - no shit
6:30 am - Is that movement I feel?
7:00 am - False alarm - and grandma is moving around in her bedroom...FUCK.
8:00 am - People are rising, lazily reading the paper, books, watching TV and eating breakfast. My stomach knots up.
8:15 am - I figure I've got one shot to get into that bathroom, turn on the shower, and use the sound to cover up the sounds of my ass-tearing shit.
I head in, turn the shower on, sit down, and hope for the best. By 8:25 I've succeeded in dropping 1 small nuggett, but Fat Boy still sits, refusing to fall out the open bombay doors.
8:35 - Dejected, I wash down my hair in the sink, leave the bathroom, and take a seat on the couch, knowing that my 1 chance is gone.
8:45 - Time to shit. Now. Right now. Problem - sister in law is in her shower, mother in law is in the other shower.
I'll finish later. But God why is it that if something CAN get in the way of a good dump, it WILL?
What about this one - you take a leak in a perfectly harmless looking toilet, and then flush, not knowing that the person before you had clogged the thing, but it was one of those clogs deep in the pipe, that remains invisible and unnoticed until you flush again, at which point the water starts to rise, rapidly.glossy wrote:Murphy's Law -- at the precise moment that you really, really need to, people will be in both bathrooms, the neighbours will be out, someone will shut off the water to the whole street, your wife will go into labour and the law will want to interview you about something you didn't do...
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[xeno]Julios
- Posts: 6216
- Joined: Fri Dec 10, 1999 8:00 am
International Cricket series between Australia and West Indies in teh 1980's - can remember who, but a fast bowler started his run up,
ran straight down teh pitch,
across teh outfield,
adn up the stairs
camera followed him all the way
brown pants on international TV cos it all let loose before he made the change rooms,
ran straight down teh pitch,
across teh outfield,
adn up the stairs
camera followed him all the way
brown pants on international TV cos it all let loose before he made the change rooms,
"Liberty, what crimes are committed in your name."
So how do you cope with your "shitting in odd places" thing?[xeno]Julios wrote:ROFL tnf - i started reading your post, then stopped, went and opened up "Hymn to Red October" (theme from red october by Basil Poledouris - top track) and resumed reading.
It's a beautiful russian military with male choir - very dramatic
I've made great strides too, but I still hate it when I am trying to shit and can hear everything going on outside the door. At work, we have a shitter with a sink right outside the door. Without fail, when I go to use that one, two or more women decide to fill up their water bottles at that sink (out of the many in the huge building) and chat it up.
Who fucking chats right outside a shitter with a closed door? Do they not have any fucking clue what is going on inside there?
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[xeno]Julios
- Posts: 6216
- Joined: Fri Dec 10, 1999 8:00 am
well it came mainly through putting myself in the mind of the "enemy".
If I'm ever in a situation where I am listening in on someone's shit, due to circumstance, and they are noisy, I know that my own feelings about that are not symmetrical the embarrasment I think I would feel if I was taking a noisy shit.
Last sunday, I was about to run a 5k run, and it was early in the morning and I hadn't had my morning shit. We were still 30 min away from race time, and there was one washroom in the floor of the building (city hall) - there were over a thousand people roaming the courtyard and the main lobby of the building - and there was only one stall in the washroom - meaning a long lineup.
I went in there, feeling like the man, and took a moderately loud shit. It felt awesome.
Earplugs also help if you have them - sort of ostrich-sticking-head-in-sand syndrome - if you don't see other people, part of you thinks that others don't see you - same goes for hearing. It's good because it blocks the subconscious "rectal auditory neurons" even though you know that it's an illusion.
If I'm ever in a situation where I am listening in on someone's shit, due to circumstance, and they are noisy, I know that my own feelings about that are not symmetrical the embarrasment I think I would feel if I was taking a noisy shit.
Last sunday, I was about to run a 5k run, and it was early in the morning and I hadn't had my morning shit. We were still 30 min away from race time, and there was one washroom in the floor of the building (city hall) - there were over a thousand people roaming the courtyard and the main lobby of the building - and there was only one stall in the washroom - meaning a long lineup.
I went in there, feeling like the man, and took a moderately loud shit. It felt awesome.
Earplugs also help if you have them - sort of ostrich-sticking-head-in-sand syndrome - if you don't see other people, part of you thinks that others don't see you - same goes for hearing. It's good because it blocks the subconscious "rectal auditory neurons" even though you know that it's an illusion.
This is one of the most perfect shit threads on all the internet (so far).
1. I learned a new word: peristaltic, the wavelike muscular contractions of the alimentary canal or other tubular structures by which contents are forced onward toward the opening.
2. Jules somehow managed to use a word like 'aperture' which I know only from photography and relate it to shit
By the way, has anyone noticed that toilets are accoustically perfect at amplifying the sound of a fart? The fart begins at a point that, if the toilet were a perfect sphere, would be at the center of the sphere. The vibrations of the fart bounces off the wall of the toilet bowl, amplifying the sound in every direction and increasing volume by at least 20 dB. And you try your best to muffle the sound by spreading your legs and sticking your hands of the area in front of your dick to block all points where sound could escape. But it doesn't help, and the most fervent actions to try and lesson the noise do nothing and it still sounds like you're auditioning for the world's loudest fart.
1. I learned a new word: peristaltic, the wavelike muscular contractions of the alimentary canal or other tubular structures by which contents are forced onward toward the opening.
2. Jules somehow managed to use a word like 'aperture' which I know only from photography and relate it to shit
By the way, has anyone noticed that toilets are accoustically perfect at amplifying the sound of a fart? The fart begins at a point that, if the toilet were a perfect sphere, would be at the center of the sphere. The vibrations of the fart bounces off the wall of the toilet bowl, amplifying the sound in every direction and increasing volume by at least 20 dB. And you try your best to muffle the sound by spreading your legs and sticking your hands of the area in front of your dick to block all points where sound could escape. But it doesn't help, and the most fervent actions to try and lesson the noise do nothing and it still sounds like you're auditioning for the world's loudest fart.