Obviously, I don’t know Al Roker; I’m an inventory manager in Scranton. But he seems like a good guy. There’s nothing there to dislike, as far as I can tell. So, I feel a little weird making such a big deal of this. But, come on. Admitting, with a solemn look on your face, that you shit your pants at the White House, and ditched your underwear somewhere? Man, that’s right in our wheelhouse!
In lieu of a “normal” update today, I’d like to know your thoughts on this monumental story. Also, if you’d like to weigh in on any of the following semi-related items, that would be cool too:
- Where do you think he hid his shitty drawers? Did he step outside and skyhook them onto a balcony or something?
- Who do you think were the biggest farters inside the White House? Taft comes immediately to mind, because he was a fatass. But sometimes it’s not the size… FDR seems like a big farter, and so does Lyndon Johnson. Eisenhower, maybe. And, of course, Madeleine Albright. What are your thoughts on this important issue?
- Have you ever done an “Al” and shart yourself in public? If so, we’ll need to know about it. My mother used to tell a story about being at the mall in Charleston, with a co-worker who’d just left the doctor’s office and some sort of stomach-related treatment. I can’t remember the details, but she was supposed to only eat mild foods for the rest of the day, but insisted on steak and peppers at Steak Escape. As they were going down the escalator, the woman suddenly groaned, pitched forward at the waist, and power-shit her pantsuit. My mother said it was really loud and stunk to high-heaven. Needless to say, I used to ask her to tell me that story again and again. It’s one of my favorites. So, if you have anything along those lines, please share.
And that’s gonna do it for today, my friends. Heh. I know you guys can take it from here.
Have yourselves a great Tuesday!
I’ll be back tomorrow.
Now playing in the bunker
Treat yourself to something cool at Amazon
Laughing out loud!
The Qweezy Mark says
Been there, done that.
Swami Bologna says
I’m pretty sure GWB was a “hey, pull my finger” kinda guy.
I can’t stand Al Roker. Ever since he lost all that weight, he looks fucking creepy. Oh, how I wish I was on Secret Service duty that day. I would have found those soiled drawers, crumpled them up and shoved them down his pie hole.
My dearly departed father shat himself on a bus tour of Europe. Denmark to be exact. They were getting off the bus at a restaurant whn my dad whispered in my Mom’s ear “Walk behind me and check my pants.” He made a beeline for the restroom and had to gingerly step out of his skid marked briefs. He spent almost 30 minutes alternating the scrubbing of his underwears, ass and squatting as wave after wave of nausea hit him.
At one point the tour director asked my mother if he should look for him but my mother knew trouble was brewing in his intestines. She told him “NO, SIT DOWN!” because she knew it wasn’t a pretty picture in stall B.
She can still laugh about this. “Somehting’s rotten in Denmark, Jimmy!” she’d tease. Good old Pop God rest his soiled undies.
Bill in WV says
I’ve never filled my pantlegs with ooze before, but came really, really, I MEAN REALLLLLY close a few times. I think I’ve told this one before, but the best one was a night at our old dive bar in town. Had to go really bad, the bathroom door was locked (pot smokers/pharmaceutical sales), so I had to make a decision and make it FAST! Decided to grab a handful of napkins from the bar, rushed out the back door and went across the alley to where the funeral home was located. Their AC units were next to the building with little walls around them, about waist high. I jumped in there, dropped ’em and let’r fly. I’m crouched down behind this little wall, with only my eyes above it, peering out at the people walking across the parking lot, headed into the back door of the bar. I can imagine the look on the heat pump repairman’s face, when he got in there to work on their equipment. WHAT IN THE POWER-SHITTING HELL????????????
The interviewer shrugs it off “you pooped in your pants”. At the White House. Ditches the sharted drawers in the bathroom. Goes “commando”. I wonder which of the many surveillance camera’s got that shot! WHY would he admit that to the entire country? And with a perplexed look on his face! Too funny!
Liza Zajac Whitehead says
Am I the only one who immediately thought of Jeff’s “side effects of Alli in laymen’s terms” article? Or is that fruit just hanging too low for ya’ll? I guess you have comedy standards higher than I because I immediately went there.
I thought it. I also thought about about Ryan’s!
Dir T Sanchez says
Jeff, your story of the Beef and Macaroni ass-explosion from years back tops this tale…you should link to it here.
That was EXACTLY what I thought when I read this update.
I remember when I was a Heat Pump Repairman… you know the rest…
Jeff, Ryan’s Steakhouse must have been pretty close?
I remember my Dad telling me a story about when my Mum was ill, he had to stand her in the bath naked,and tell her to bend over as yellow rain came out the front and brown rain out the back. He hosed her down.
Wait…what…Oh–side effect of gastric bypass surgery. Yes. Sometimes, folks, they just foam at the mouth. Other times, they shit themselves. It’s all a matter of risks versus benefits, I guess. The only time I ever encountered a PDS (public display of shit) even remotely was one time when I went to some kinda church luncheon and wore white pants. Unfortunately, this was one of those groups that try to connect every little physical signal to some sort of spiritual lack or need. Unbeknownst be me, I had, as a friend used to say, ever so slightly “blossomed in my panties.” There were all kinda “words” that day about somebody needs prayer for an intestinal problem, etc. Heh. These were the kinda people that once they got ahold of you, they were going to wear you out until you were prayed through and up. It all seemed like a good idea at the time, especially the free lunch (never mind what they say about that). Besides, I had no idea I had a problem. Which I guess a fudgy fart is a problem, being so unexpected and all. So, I just kind of stood there and waited it out. Nobody volunteered to be prayed for, and they ended up rather lamely proclaiming that whoever it was wouldn’t get better unless they got some help. When I got home and discovered I was the, er, target, I helped myself and “shouted it out,” and I never wore white pants in public again. However, this situation also brings to mind the hilarious routine of Gene Tracy, “You Can’t Smell Them.” If you can find it anywhere, it is well worth a listen. I think it’s available on the web.
Bill in WV says
Gene Tracy was the bomb.
And his brother, Bill. He’s crippled, you know
Bill in WV says
LOL!! ‘Ol Bill fell on his ass, he’s crippled, you know. Classic!
Yep, been there unfortunatley. ack when I was in sales I was at my desk and felt an RTFN kind of rumble. I got up and was walking towards relief when I got hit hard and had to go into a stationary mega-clench right in front of on of the HR people.
I tried to play it off, like I stopped to ask her something but forgot what it was. I think I fooled her and wnet onward. Unfortunatley, I suffered a level 2 containment breech between there and the bathroom.
I cleaned up as best as possible and tried to wad up some toilet paper between me and my drawers and my drawers and my pants. A shit sandwhich, if you will.
I went out to my car and called my brother for advice. I was new in that job and didn’t know the area. He directed my to a KMart down the road.
I went in, bought a pack of underwear, drove behind the building and changed in my car.
Then I used the KMart bag to wrap the outgoing tighty whities up and threw it in their dumpster.
And that’s the story of how I switched to boxer briefs.
I think Nancy Reagan was the big wind in the White House
WB in OH says
I’m not saying I shit myself but if I did, I certainly wouldn’t tell you ruthless fuckers about it!
All in the fambly Dubya-B!
But it’s nice to share! Maybe you sharted and had to use one of those restrooms with the revolving cloth towel? Remember those? Usually found in filthy gas station restrooms?. You’d have to hoist one cheekat a t ime for proper cleansing.
I’m sitting in a pile of my own shit as we speak. I’ve started wearing diapers.
Fancy Pants Maguire says
WH biggest farter:
Jimmy Cater – peanut dust farts.
Bill Clinton probably rifled off a few too. Then stood there and giggled about it like a school girl with a cigar shoved up her woo-hoo.
Bill in WV says
Nixon farted a lot, and then lied about it.
Money for a room deodorizer? That would be no problem, BUT IT WOULD BE WRONG.
Bill Clinton because he loved chili dogs and al gore because he loves hippy food. Nothing but stank and semen in that oval office.
Billy Carter was undoubtedly farting and shitting all over the White House when Jimmy lived there.
Shitting barley sandwiches. I bet he left skid marks, too.
The Steak has Escaped!
I used to work in the toy dept. in a major retail store in Perth (Oz) back when the Nintendo first started to get big in the late eighties. We had some set up so people could play them to see how awesome they were and sucker them into forking out big bucks. Anyway, the local kids soon got wind of this and started hanging around and wagging school to play these all day.
Then one day this scruffy, homeless (we think) kid came in. He was quiet and didn’t cause a fuss and played from the moment we opened to the moment we closed. We left him alone cos he seemed harmless enough but after a while we noticed an incredible stink coming from his way. We thought he probably didn’t have a shower for a day or two at first but he really stunk like shit. Then we noticed that he NEVER took a break during the day and may have actually been loading his pants and carrying on as if nothing had happened. No one wanted to do anything about it cos, really, who wants to deal with a shitty retard?
Eventually, one day when we were closing, he had left and someone was following him out the door. He noticed things dropping out of the bottom of his trousers. Yep, little mounds of shit. A bit with each step. All the way out. He’d been crapping himself for weeks before someone decided to something….Needless to say it wasn’t me…
Still gives me full body shivers thinking about it…
I knew someone whose grandmother almost got arrested because she shit herself in the car, ran a stop sign to the attention of a cop, and then refused to roll down her window because of not wanting to release the stench to the cop. She had to try to explain in her elder state through a closed car window, “I pooped my pants and I need to get home.” He finally relented and let her go.
I imagine Uncle Al put the offending undergarment in the wastebasket of the restroom, then put a few paper towels over it for concealment.
White House farters? LBJ for sure. And I suspect Bush Junior, more so than Senior. And Truman had a grin that seemed to say “savor my brown cloud, suckas”.
My personal episode was as I was arriving to do some work at a client’s facility (hint: if you’re anywhere near 50 years old, they have sent you mail). “I felt I had to pass a little gas, but a little something extra came out.” As it were. Luckily it was only a drop – and I happened to be wearing brown pants that day! Unlike Al, I had no reason to think such a thing might happen. I blame the Sausage McMuffin.
How could I forget this? I myself have farted in the White House. In Ari Fleischer’s office, while getting a mutli-TV display set up.
Al Roker has recently been classified as a class 6 bio-hazard. Any vehicel he is transported in must display the apporpraite placards.
William Mckinlely spent his election night win lighting his farts while the newly elect Vice President shit in the punch bowl.
Martin Van Buren was said have had a steady diet of hard boiled eggs and beer in order to bring meetings to a quick end with both sides agreeing to what ever it was he said.
Blue surly says
When I was in the Navy, I was an aircrewman on a p3 Orion. One time on a cross country flight, we were stopping at various airfields to pick folks up who had been on holiday leave. Everyone who flew were required to wear their uniforms or preferably the green nomex flight suits like what Tom Cruise wore in “Topgun”
At one stop we picked up this guy who had spent a few days with family that were passing around a flu bug.(or maybe just hungover?) He got on board looking a little rough around the edges.
A little while into the next leg of the flight he was observed walking around doing his best to keep the shit/air separator working properly.
Suddenly he made a beeline for the restroom and slammed the door. We didn’t see it happen but the evidence spoke volumes. He ran in there so fast and threw his flight suit off so that the arms of it fell into the shitter and he covered them. Saved the ass end, but shit on his sleeves. Needless to say this embarrasses the poor guy. We let him fly the rest of the way without his flight suit,not just to save him, but the rest of us. I still laugh about it. Glad he had a suitcase of clothes with him.
been there done that says
I too am a former P-3 flyer. We had a guy (whose first and last names both began with the letter “S”…thank you, God!).
One day, someplace over the Mediterranean Sea, this poor guy gets afflicted with a case of the explosive variety of diarrhea. And although he made it to the “restroom” (such as was on P-3s: a stand-up can, and sit down and poop into a plastic bag), he did not fully extricate himself from his flight suit or get posed over the plastic bag before the the explosion peaked.
It went everyplace inside that little space…including all over the microwave we used for inflight cooking that we stored there when not cooking (that’s another story).
We got to enjoy the aroma and the labors of his cleanup. And forever after, he was known as “Crazy S Man”
Reagan, that dude was the oldest and old people fart like it’s an alternate form of breathing.
I would say Obama too, since he’s pretty young and young people think farting is funny. But…do black people fart?
I know for a fact black chicks do.
Reagan shit entire federal departments. His movies were also shit, but that’s another matter.
I had a sphinter breach that actually ended well while hunting once. Long story short – I shit ON my coveralls while taking a prehunt dumper in the woods, ditched them in the woods, sat in my stand convulsing from coldness, started rattling deer horns to try to warm up, killed a monster buck! I climbed down from the tree, retrieved my buck and my shitty coveralls and preceded to tell everyone I knew the entire story without an ounce of shame!
I may or may not have sneezed and shit myself before… not too terrible, but enough to have to change the drawers.
A good friend of mine was working at a buddy’s house with his (the friend’s) father. They were doing some work on the outside of the house, and the father’s work required the use of a ladder. Shortly after lunch they were back at it, and his friend’s dad stopped quickly and said, “Yep, daddy shit himself.” He quickly exited the ladder and went inside to change.
Dave's not here, man says
heh. The little play button icon is covering one of Al’s eyes, making him look a lot like a pirate. Makes the story even funnier if you imagine him telling it in prate talk. ARRRRR!