Talking Shit - Page 2

Thank God my wife keeps spare baby wipes in the bathroom at home... for our toddler daughter, of course.

When I was like...8 or so...I was in the waiting room to see the doctor and I became aware of an impending urge that would not be ignored.

I jumped up, ran out of the waiting room, across the hall and into the nearby restroom.
I go straight for the nearest stall and began to get down to business.

Next person to walk into the restroom was wearing heels...the next person, pink sandals.
I began thinking, "why are girls coming into the boy's bathroom?!" and becoming very suspicious of a female conspiracy against me.

After I finished, I left my stall...went to wash my hands...and a woman walks in. Seeing me, she stops suddenly and says, "What are you doing in here?"
To which, I immediately respond, "What are YOU doing in here?!?" and glare at her.
She immediately does a 180 out the door and I resume washing my hands triumphantly.

As I leave, I turn to the water fountain next to the restroom for a post-victory drink. I finish with that and notice the Men's Restroom sign on the other side of the hall.

Confused, I turn back to the door I had just exited, and ... to my utter horror, find:

My roommate keeps baby wipes in the bathroom, they're great for extreme situations.

Last night I had a dream which I decided to post here rather than the dreams/nightmares thread, since I think my involvement here may have influenced it. In it, I was at a party in the basement my old parish, with a bunch of old friends and some of their families. The sister of a guy I know comes up to me, hammered out of her mind (not an unusual scenario when I used to know her). She's got quite a build, with tits I wouldn't believe were real if I hadn't seen her grow them. So we start making out and its all gravy, but then I grab her ass just in time to feel her shit her pants. I pull away, feeling that I'm suddenly in danger of doing the same. I've woken up shaking or flailing, and screaming once or twice, but this is the only time I've woken up laughing out loud.

The lesson here, boys, is that in order to get a good night's sleep, you should always either shit or jerk off (if not both) before going to bed.

Too soon!

(edit)

Actually, more like: Too much information!

Nothing worse than a burning/itching asshole. Especially, when you're in a situation where you can't do something about it... Like in bumper to bumper traffic on a hot summer day.

I'm on painkillers at the moment to numb some achilles tendonitis which have the wonderful side effect of causing constipation. Even after eating a good hot curry tonight I'm not expecting any drastic changes in exhaust emissions so I suppose for me it's literally "No shit?"

There's never a situation where you can't do anything about it. It just comes down to how much you want to freak out anyone near you!

Ya mean like pulling over to the side of the road, sitting on the ground, and dragging your ass across the median like a dog with scooch-worms? With a combo of burning and itching, sometimes a good scratch only aggravates it all the more. Not to mention accompanying swamp-ass discomfort & mess. Sometimes only a shower and ointment/salve/painkiller can fix the situation. And if hemorrhoids are a problem as well, not much you can do at certain times without a bathroom or meds available.

God, I hate getting old.

The last I had hemorrhoids I thought I was going to die. My then job required me to stand alot, not a good thing with 'roids raging like that. The pain was unbearable. My god, the itching. I had to go to the bathroom several times and wash those fuckers off and make them stop before I ripped a hole in my pants trying to scratch my bunghole. Painkillers dulled the pain, but it still hurt like I was sitting on a butcher knife.

For those that have never had them imagine the pain of a pulled tendon, the itching feels like your asshole is covered with poison ivy.

Words of warning- Don't push too hard.

Just when I think I'm outta this thread you pull me right back in again. The joy of the 'rrhoids.

I had a bad case of those years ago, but I'd never really had a problem with them until this one episode. It was during the days when I used to cycle to work. It never occurred to me what might happen when your butt is wedged on a narrow saddle until I rode home for lunch one day & after deciding I felt somewhat uncomfortable headed to the bathroom. Turns out the bottom grapes had burst. I still remember how my heart skipped a beat when I saw that my grots (underwear) were very bloody indeed. Scared the hell out of me! I ended up having to improvise a wad of padding made out of toilet paper to continue my day's work & yes, I decided to take the car back to work. No more bikes for me for awhile.

Anymore stories? Don't flush it yet.

It appears that, even on the internet, and even on CHUD, hemorrhoid stories kill conversation dead.

I guess bleeding from the asshole is just not funny.

I was in the restroom at my local pool hall last night when this guy comes in, enters one of the stalls & seemingly proceeds to shit himself into oblivion. From the sound of it he must've been in a race against time to get there! I'm desperately trying to finish up & get out of there before my nostrils are assaulted but of course the harder you try, the longer it bloody takes! Then I think about this thread & damn near crack up in there! I think the guy might've been embarassed but I'm not sure he could hear me over the noise he was making himself.

I'm just glad he wasn't in there before me.

I took my 3-year-old into a restaurant's bathroom on Monday. There was a guy in there shitting and talking on the phone. My son says 'who's that guy talking to daddy?' I told him I didn't know. He was perplexed and kept asking questions (and 3-year-olds are never quiet). He said 'but you're not supposed to talk on the phone while you're going poo poo. I nearly busted out laughing, and the guy got quiet for a minute, like maybe the person on the phone didn't know where he was. It became my mission to ensure that hte person found out.

When my son finished using the bathroom, he didn't want to flush (he doesn't like the noise). I convinced him to flush anyway and it was one of those really loud hospital-like flushes.

Mission accomplished.

Reading this thread made me realize that I'll never get too old for shit-related humor.

My favorite shit story runs thus: My family and I went out for dinner to a local Bennigan's. When we dine out, my Dad eats like he just got paroled. Anyhow, he destroyed another meal that night, paid the check, and we all left the restaurant. On the ride home, my Dad driving, we took a short cut through the parking lot of a Target/Office Depot mini mall which was under construction at the time.

Faster than you can say Jack Robinson, my Dad goes from pleasant after-dinner conversation into a violent convulsive fit, face twisted into a coarse grimace, his body wracked by the throes of what we believed to be a heart attack! One fist shot up to clutch at his chest while the other struggled to maintain our deadly course through the dark parking lot. The Chevy Cavalier was a hot red blur slaloming across the asphalt.

The faithful Cav screeched to a stop before the construction site, and my Dad slammed to the pavement grumbling and growling something barely comprehensible, like the Homo Erectus forming the first syllables of speech. Through those incoherent snarls we heard three muffled words. Leaving us with that brief explanation, he loped on stiff chunky legs towards a shadowy nook formed behind a pile of rubble. The rest of us sat in the car for perhaps five minutes, neither stirring nor speaking.

Then my Dad came back to the car shirtless, and we went home.

Thank you, Bennigan's!

Has anyone ever had the shitting urge while on a road trip?

When I was 17 (it wasn't a very good year), I was into my second week at my summer job at the local amusement park. I just arrived to start the afternoon - closing shift when my lead supervisor told me to put my rain gear and hat on and follow him. It was a perfect summer afternoon, sun shining, warm weather - why the hell wolud I need a rain coat?

He takes me over to the Women's Restroom, near one of the larger food areas, where I join 2 other Groundskeepers. I walk in, and am dumbstruck.

A woman had gone in to one of the stalls and apparently exploded. Shit was EVERYWHERE. The floor, the ENTIRE interior of the stall, a peanutty trail that led to the sinks, two nearby walls, the CEILING (honest!)... it's like she channeled her inner gorilla and was throwing it all over. The resulting stench would knock a buzzard of a shit wagon.

Took us about 2 hours to hose out, scrub and sanitize the whole bathroom. This was the first of several WTF shit stories I've seen since.

My old 80ish leprechaun-esque teacher from art school told us a story that blew our minds. When he was a teen (13-15 I think) during the Depression, he had done some illustrations of pro-boxers for a mob boss promoter. The fortunately thankful connected gentlemen knew that the young artist still had his virginity and set him up with a date with a prostitute. At the rendesvous location, my art teacher had so much anxiety that he locked himself in the bathroom upon shitting his pants. He cleaned himself up with some towels and threw them out the window (several stories up). He then ran out with his chastity in tact and stepped over his shitty towels in the street during his getaway. My fellow artschool comrades and I never looked at this old man the same way again.

I'm about 75% sure that Leonard's dad is Will Ferrell.

Is there anything weirder than the vibe between two people who exited the stalls after shitting in a public bathroom at about hte same time and are now washing their hands together. It's like they're on the verge of small talk that could include: "hey, we just took a shit together", "yeah, I heard some loud groans over there, are you alright", and "I'm not going to have another burrito for a while", and that will be the extent of the interaction between these two people for the rest of their lives. Unless years later they meet again and say something like "didn't I take a shit with you once?" , "yeah, at Applebee's back in 1989."

Psychward's story reminded me of another one. A couple years ago, when I was in college, I did a semester abroad in Italy. The first night we get there, I've got extreme jet-lag from the 15 hour flight that I for some reason didn't sleep on, but I decided to soldier on and drink excessively like a good little obnoxious American. The next day there is orientation from 8 to 5, and I am not at my best. Around lunchtime, I have a serious beershit percolating, and I have to make a move for the bathroom quick. I find it, and it just says "washroom" on the door, with no helpful little pictures, so I can't be hundred percent sure whether it's for the ladies or gents. At this point I don't have time to debate the matter in any case, so I go in and let loose. Once the first wave is past, I hear the door open and a couple of girls come in. Now, I think I remember someone telling me the night before that the bathrooms at this place were unisex, but the memory was sufficiently hazy that I didn't want to risk it. What I am sure of is that, honest mistake or no, if I get caught with my pants down in the ladies room on the first day of orientation, it is going to fundamentally alter my experience in this program. For the rest of the semester, I'll be That Guy, and I don't want to be That Guy. So I'm sitting in this stall for about 15 minutes, held hostage by the excretory whims of a series of anonymous women that come and go and do their business without leaving me a window in which I can discretely duck out. During this time, I am treated to hearing the entire spectrum of feminine bathroom needs: Number 1, number 2, monthly protection, you name it. And let me tell you something, gentleman: what you don't see really is far more terrifying than what you do. I tried to block it out, but every splash, grunt, gush, and relieved sigh bored its way into my brain as if placed there by Ricardo Montalban himself.

At this point, you may be saying to yourself, "Ew, listening to a woman shit, what's grosser than that?" Well, I'll tell you. Listening to a women urinate is far worse than shitting. It may seem counter-intuitive, but in my mind there's no contest. I think it's because a woman's shit, as awful as it is to even acknowledge its existence, sounds basically the same as a guy's, and we all know what that sounds like. But urination is a whole different beast. When a guy takes a leak, it is, for the most part, a steady stream. Like turning on and off a faucet; it's almost soothing. The sound of a woman peeing, however, is not steady. It hemmorhages out like something inside them has burst. It sounds like their crotch is throwing up. Not smooth or soothing, but sporatic and violent. I have never quite recovered from it.

Anyhow, the end of the story is that I finally managed to sneak out, and it was, in fact, a unisex facility. And no, I didn't even think about washing my hands. I never found out which of my classmates from the fairer sex had so thoroughly disgusted and disillusioned me.

Edit: As a sidenote, I had to pause halfway through writing this post to take a shit.

I'm going to permanently bookmark this thread.

It's always kind of blown my mind that chicks piss via gravity instead of the mighty forcefull waterfall we all know and love. And I agree, that intermitant pissing is disgusting. I still like to pretend that any female I'm attracted to doesn't ever actually take a shit, and if they do strawberry frozen yogurt comes out. Unfortunately reality has crashed down upon me a few times on the issue.

I tease my wife about how loud her peeing is... It has a hiss to it, like a tea kettle or an old radiator spitting steam & boiling hot water... FFFSSSHHHHFFSHSHSHSsssssss!

That's quite a unique hot springs effect. Every female piss I've ever heard sounds like rain drops falling into an old coffee can.

That's the difference between a woman who is making an effort to urinate versus one who is letting gravity do the work for her.

You gotta love a dedicated pisser.

Hey, if it gets you out of the stall and back to the movie faster...

It sounds more like a cow pissing on a flat rock. Yeah, the loud hiss is undeniable.

If I'm at a public toilet, I can not piss in the water if someone is in the room. I go for the sides, nice and noise free.

I got so used to doing that, it's habit now...I have to think about pissing in the water.

It's official. We've derailed the shit conversation with a piss conversation.
What do you call the Chewers participating in this thread?

"The Aristo-CHUDs"

..it's a natural progression. Nice insights from Belethed. As far as where you aim your stream is concerned, while the side shots are nice for no noise they bring splatters more into the equation, and that is a threat I take seriously. THey really need to redesign the toilet a little bit to prevent splattering. And those fucking plastic things at the bottom of a urinal, what the fuck are those anyway, splash guards? I've always found them to be splash enhancers.

Safety nets for the urinal cakes (AKA the big white mint yer not supposed to eat)?

Those things usually result in 14 little spots on my khakis.

I'm all about enlightening the male Chewers. Even if its about piss.

In the spirit of the thread, that 8 Films to Die For banner ad just almost made me shit my pants.
My volume was maxed out because I was working on music that had been recorded quiet. That's the last time that happens. I think I was close to having a heart attack there for a second.

This thread has brought out some stanky memories from the back of my mind. I remember in high school I saw a crowd of people in front of the boys bathroom. I investigated and went in and there I saw it. There was this turd sitting in the toilet that was inhuman it was easily about 16 inches long and about as big around as one of those packs of hamburger that comes in the plastic tube. Seriously whoever dealt this had to have split in half or suffered some serious internal bleeding. It was standing straight up about half of it visible out of the toilet. It was dubbed the Muskrat and it stayed there for about 2 weeks. I remember teachers, students, male, and female going in a looking at it. Finally the old janitor went and did battle with it and it was finally defeated. We never knew who sired the beast but we suspected the 500 lb math teacher. Another thing don't you hate the awkward feeling of having just unleashed hell in the stall and then walking out and seeing someone standing there waiting for their turn?

I remember one of those at my first job about 23 years ago. It's true, they really do become an instant tourist attraction. Ours only lasted a day or so but there were signs up all over the place giving directions to "The Turd." I know, not nearly as imaginative a title as Muskrat.

Like one of those Roadside Attractions!

When I was in highschool there was a long one sticking out of the toilet. I don't know how it came to be, but it was perfectly round, about 4' or so and a good foot long. It was peeking out the top of the water like some freakshow attraction demanding attention and it got it.

Let me tell ya, a punk highschooler with a turd story is an unstoppable force. Do not try and impede the perfect poo tale, it will turn ugly real quick. As soon as I saw it, I told anyone who would listen until a nice crowd gathered. We mocked it as if it could hear us.

As gross as the story may sound, it's nothing compared to the guy I had to sit behind in 11th grade history who liked to wear tank tops even though he had the worst back-ne ever. It felt like a thousand milky eyes were staring at me. Ick.

When I was in high school...Nah, you know what? There is already way too much information about my defecatory history in this thread. Schwartz out.

Now you have to tell it with a teaser like that.

At this point somebody might as well take a digital picture of the next "muskrat" they run across and post it here.

When I was in basic training we had a guy that was 6'2" 125 lbs. Looked like a walking broomstick. Our bay (an area the size of your average hotel lobby with 60 bunks crammed into it) had three toilets, and this fucker was always on one of them. One day we hear him scream and go to investigate. He was standing at the door to the toilet, pants around his ankles, pointing to the toilet. The guy had shat out a turd long enough to spiral around the inside of the bowl, and was sticking straight up in the air. It looked like a cobra playing peek-a-boo. Apparently he had felt something brush up against his rear, and it never occurred to him that it could be the two foot behemoth of a turd he'd dropped. The fact that it came from someone so small was astounding. It had to defy the laws of physics.

I swear, had the military allowed us cameras, all 60 of us would have crammed in there for pictures.

Apparently last night somebody shit in my sister's L train car. I share this so those of you who are uncomfortable shitting a stall will have this bright, shining hero to look up to.

1) Left school with clean shoes. Walked home. Once home, looked down at shoes. One was covered - the entire top of it, the part that doesn't touch the ground, the laces - in shit. Consistent, yet chunk-ridden, shit. I don't know how it got there or where it came from. Got my mum to clean it.

2) At school, someone had taken a shit in the sink/tub where you wash your hands. Out in the playground, I started a conga line with a friend, while singing the lyrics, "Faece in the tu-UB, faece in the tu-UB". A good ten or so other kids heard the chant, went to look at the shit, saw The Light, and joined in the conga line. We conga-ed for a good ten minutes. It was great.

One of the worst & funniest things I saw in high school was when I went to the bathroom before classes began that day. There were three guys in there, and they all had somehow managed to take a shit in one urinal. When I walked in, they were arguing over who was going to "pull the pin", or in plainspeak, flush.

One guy finally volunteered, and the other two guys & myself were huddled right at the door. He pulled, and ran like hell, but not quite fast enough. Our school had some superflush urinals, and he got some of it on the back of his legs, and started dry heaving while the rest of us were laughing our asses off. I can't remember who coined the term but someone called it a chocolate explosion....

Ha ha, great storie(s)!

Better call the Hardly Boys: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aME3LhEnoPc

If any of you boys think it's funny, mmkay, to drop a chocolate hotdog in the urinal mmkay, then maybe you should think about the janitor Mr. Venezuela who has to clean that up. There's absolutely nothing funny, mmkay, about pulling your pants down, backing up to the urinal, mmkay, maybe pulling your butt cheeks apart, and dropping a fudge dragon in there so it's propped up agaisnt the back of the urnial like a raggedy ann doll for everyone to see.