This is by no means comprehensive, I could undoubtedly come up with five or six more if I concentrated on it, but below is the three bathroom embarrassment stories that popped immediately into my head. After you finish reading mine, please use the comments section to tell us yours.
Yeah, and this could be fun, or a total bust. I don’t have a very good track record predicting such things. But let’s get to it, shall we?
I’m not proud of this first one, but it led to one of the top five hardest laughs of my life. It was one of those situations where you laugh so hard, you wake up the next morning sore all over. Know what I mean? It reaches all the way down to your core, and every muscle gets involved.
During high school a bunch of us went into the bathroom one afternoon. They didn’t have doors on the stalls, because people used to go inside and smoke various things. And on this day there was a kid sitting atop one of the toilets, all curled up with embarrassment. He was perched up there, clearly mortified by the turn of events. He’d probably psyched himself up and was convinced he could get away with a quick dump without anyone knowing.
It was a tactical error…
A couple of the guys started teasing him, and I felt kind of bad for the kid. Most of you know about my deep-seated neurosis when it comes to crapping away from home… So, I felt some sympathy for him, but the way the situation escalated left me unable to do anything except laugh. Like I say, I’m not proud.
Sensing how uncomfortable the kid was, a couple of the guys went out into the hallway and started waving people into the bathroom. Within twenty seconds the room was FULL, with this poor bastard sitting on the toilet, his pants around his ankles. There were even a few girls in there, and at least one teacher. It was a fully realized nightmare.
Then somebody hit him with a bar of soap, and I limped out of the room, completely incapacitated. My friend Tim and I stood out in the hall, buckled at the waist, laughing and laughing and laughing. It was one of the cruelest things I’ve ever witnessed, and my reaction was disgraceful. Hey, I fully admit it.
Yeah, and I would’ve begged my parents to let me go to another school. Man, that was the worst… Holy shit.
And in Greensboro years ago I was at a rock club called Underground, when story number two occurred. My brother was with me, and we were planning to hit the men’s room, to get rid of some of the cheap beer we’d ingested.
I opened the door and it was just one big space, with no dividers or anything. There were a couple of urinals on the wall to the left, and further back was a single toilet, with the seat ripped-off. I noticed it lying on the floor, about ten feet away.
And the guy attempting to use that vandalized throne screamed at us: “Go away!” But I was frozen in my tracks, unable to advance or retreat. I stood there for a few beats, while my brain caught up with my eyes, and saw this dude attempting to keep his balance — with a foot-long turd swinging from his ass.
There was no seat, so he was just kind of hovering… and not doing a very good job of it.
“Good god!!” I hollered, and my brother was already out in the hall laughing. I joined him, and we couldn’t stop for a long, long time. There is NO WAY I would ever attempt to crap in such a place. I mean, it’s simply outside the realm of possibilities. And clearly it wasn’t an emergency blow-out situation, either. The guy was giving birth to a huge log.
Amazing.
And the final story happened at the second prom I attended. I was dating a girl who was a senior, and I was in my first year of “college.” So, I was 19 or so.
My girlfriend had spent a lot of money on a dress, and months on making plans. But I woke up the morning of the dance sick as a dog. I wanted to cancel, but she had so much invested…
So, we went and I felt awful. I was nauseated, and white as a ghost. I tried to have a mixed-drink with dinner, but it only made my stomach churn. I probably finished a third of it, and not much of the expensive food, either.
And when we arrived at the prom itself, I found a chair to flop into. This wasn’t going well… I felt like complete shit, and knew she wasn’t having much fun. So, there was quite a bit of guilt involved, too.
Then everything went south. I could sense a gastrointestinal event brewing, and took off for the bathroom. I tried not to puke on the way, since we were, you know, at a formal dance. High heels and upchuck do not mix… But when I entered the room everything cut loose.
I rocketed a jet of vomit in the general direction of the trash can, but most of it hit the wall and a sink. Other guys began howling in protest, and taking cover in their powder blue tuxedos. There was quite a bit of shrapnel flying around. It was horrible, and humiliating.
And within five minutes word had spread throughout the hall that Jeff Kay was drunk off his ass, and throwing up all over the bathroom.
We had a hotel room reserved, and went there. But it was no party, I’m here to tell you. And we didn’t install the sex trapeze, or anything like that. I just got into bed, shivered, periodically raced to the bathroom, and climbed back into bed again. Yes, it was certainly a wonderful evening… She had a lovely senior prom. Ahhh… the memories.
Now it’s your turn. Please tell us your bathroom embarrassment stories in the comments section below.
And I’ll be back on Monday.
Have a great weekend, boys and girls.
Now playing in the bunker
Treat yourself to something cool at Amazon.
Uno.
Ha Ha!
Hello?
Yay top 5!!!
I refused to sell candy, so i never went to a prom.
I can only remember two –
1) In the midst of the flu, I was still living at home with my parents. I had the whole upstairs to myself, with a bathroom. My dad and I had nearly completed the renovation of the upstairs bathroom, but a few minor details hadn’t been completed, so we just left the door off the hinges. I counted 38 trips to said bathroom in one day. On this day, my parents had visitors, so in order to have a bit of a sense of privacy, I would prop the door up against the opening (from the inside). Being in the cycle of pure hell, I was sitting on the throne and, apparently didn’t prop the door up too well, as if fell straight back and conked me on the head. I woke up beside the toilet with a door on top of me. The door had knocked me completely out, while sitting on the shitter. Yeah, I’m not proud of that moment.
2) Was out at the local dive bar on a Friday or Saturday night. Gut began to churn and I knew I had to execute relief from the lower quadrant. This dive bar’s mens bathroom had no lock on the door and the #2 vehicle was out in the open. There was no way I was blasting off in that room that night. So, I walked out the back door and looked for a place to go. I had gathered some paper towels from the bathroom at the bar beforehand. There was a funeral home across the alley and I walked over there to find a “private” spot. Turns out, their air conditioning unit was enclosed by a half wall and it looked like the perfect place for my deposit. As I was into it, people were walking past, and there I sat, crouched, with only my eyeballs and top of my head clearing the little wall. Finished up, went back inside and continued on with the party. To this day, I wonder what the maintenance guy at that funeral home thought, when he found out what I had left him. Pitiful, but you gotta do what you gotta do, eh?
Bill, you gotta re-tell the story of the bathroom event at the drive in.
Jeff needs to tell that one (I think he did in a previous update) because I don’t recollect much of it. Jeff was an eye witness and the only one who hung with me. I’ve had to get the details from others since I was torn out the frame on that night.
I’d never heard the story about the door before. Man, that’s a classic!
I’d heard the one about the door but never the one about the deposit at the funeral home. @Jerry the drive in story IS a classic.
Damn coons, going after the white woman.
I had a horrible flu when I was in my 20’s. All I wanted was a hot bath – my stomach was killing me. My boyfriend-at-the-time was very supportive and drew a bath for me, even helped me into it and sat there with me while I soaked. I started to relax. Then I shit myself in the tub, with the boyfriend right there. Top THAT one.
LMAO!
Kinda like a food coloring reaction, but not really.
I have to stop reading this shit “no pun intended” at work.
Jeff Greensbooro was funny. But dayum! I cracked up at Bills! I am crying at my desk.. 🙂
A few years back, a relative of my boss came in to use the facilities in my office and when she came out there was a big ploop of poop down the back of her slacks. I stood there mortified and never said a word. I’ve felt bad about that off and on for years.
Is the name of the band “JIZM”?
Chekc out the bass drum on the WVSR Classic
That would explain its classic status.
Yes, young Richie hired a band called Jizm. What does this tell us about him? Or about the writer, really?
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kinda made me think of this…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cyiC3x6-Kzk
Explosive anal discharges while hot air ballooning, top that you lightweights.
I’m on the blacklist on some national hot air balloon blog.
Man, I gotta hear that whole story. Spill it.
I caught the Norwalk Virus (explosive and painful, it ran rampant through a few cruise ships that year) once and had to drop to my knees and vomit in a huge potted plant in the middle of a shopping mall. I remember, with a high fever, looking down and saying “hey, there’s gum in here!” right before being violently ill. Who throws gum in a fake mall plant?
This is one of the most horrifying things I have ever read. Why can’t I stop laughing? [I think the ‘gum’ comment threw me over the edge…]
Me too! Gum – I am STILL laughing.
I got nothing, I’ve been fortunate enough that all my bathroom requirements utilizing the throne had functioning doors.
at topcats in cincinnati it was two toilets against one wall about 3 ft apart facing the trough across the way. No divider, stall or privacy.
I imagine two dudes sitting, shitting, holding hands, and watching guys hump in the trough.
Re : WVSR Classic
Bwahahahahaha! My favorite band!
I had a bug called cryptosporidium once and I gave me gut wrenching diarrhea for a week. I saw the doctor and, of course, they wanted a sample. How many of you have had to shit on a plate and then go through it with a tiny spatula to scoop it into tiny jars and give it to a total stranger to analyze? It’s quite a humbling experience.
About the best I can do is that one New Year’s morning when I was in college (high school?). I woke up early… seated on the throne with pants around ankles and a load of puke in and around said pants. Good times.
.
Score!
Similar to the Macaroni & Beef story !
Heard a crash and lots of cussing
coming from the wife’s throne room.
Walked to see her with pants around her knees
Sitting on the base of a toilet that was cracked
In half and spilling water everywhere.
All I could say: have taco bell for lunch?
Good times…
Is that a song lyrics?
“She Came In Through the Bathroom Window”?
Several years ago (1999 or 2000), I had a business meeting in Elizabeth, NJ at 9:00 AM.
It was about 8:45 and I had to shit RIGHT NOW. I drove up and down several streets looking for a McDonald’s or a hotel, gas station, diner, anything. I was about 30 seconds before I would shit my pants and I was in serious trouble. Sweat was beading off of my forehead.
I saw a Citgo sign and roared in to the lot, jumped out of the vehicle, and realized that the place was closed up for good, boarded up with plywood over the windows.
The place still had Men’s and Women’s rest rooms labeled on outside entrance doors with little cheap locks and small locking mechanisms, so I got a roll of paper towels from the truck, kicked in the Men’s room door, sat down in total darkness and began building my poop pyramid in a commode with no water in the bowl.
It took about 30 seconds for a cop to show up. He opened the door a few inches and peered in with a flashlight looking at me sitting on the toilet and told me to come out of there. ” I’ll be right out”, I announced.
He told me I was under arrest for breaking and entering, destruction of private property, trespassing, and several other charges I can’t remember.
I explained that I was from Pennsylvania, lost in downtown Elizabeth, NJ, had a stomach virus,” I am a business man” (I was wearing some nice dress clothes including a sport coat and driving a brand spanking new Lincoln Navigator). I offered to pay for any damages he could forward to the property owner, and actually pulled a wad of cash out of my front pocket fully prepared to peel off several hundreds to get him off my ass, offered my business card, and begged for mercy.
He bitched me out for about 10 minutes and told me to get the fuck out of here and let me go.
I love the fact that you had Charmin in the truck. 🙂
Sounds more like he had a roll of Bounty instead of a roll of TP. Either/or works well during desperate times. Hell, I’d use a garbage bag if necessary.
A few years ago we were at out local bar watching a Steeler playoff game. Thebar was packed. I wasn’t feeling to well but not bad enough to stay home. I picked at some food, had a few beers. Then all of a sudden….GURRRGLE….. I ran to the bathroom which was occupied. I danced outside of the door clinching as much as I could. Finally, the door opened and I pushed my way in, slammed the door. By the time I got my jeans unbuttoned and unzipped, the levy started to cave. I let loose a STREAM of diarrhea, but only half of it was in the toilet. The rest was either all over the seat, up the tank, but mostly in my jeans. I was mortified.
When I was finally able to get help, my girl friend gave me her hoodie to tie around my waist. I slid out the back door to drive home. In that 10 min drive, the GURGLE came back and I proceeded to shit my pants again only this time I was driving a stick shift trying to hold my ass up so I didn’t get poop on the cloth seat. Didn’t matter… I had split my jeans in the excitement and the drivers seat was disgusting shitty mess.
Bikerchick, you are my hero. Seriously, only a real woman would be able to recount that story publicly.
And kudos to your friend who allowed you to use her hoodie. She’s a hell of a woman too.
Ho-LEE HELL !!!
why is it that mens rooms never have stalls or dividers or anything?? my husband is always telling me about mens rooms not having stalls, its like wtf? are men really animals? i actually feel bad for them. i dont really have any crazy stories for myself, a few close calls but i always made it to a bathroom. one time i ate at arbys and than spent the next 24 hours sitting on the toilet with the trash can in front of me. it was coming out of both ends non stop.
are men really animals?
yup
Precicely why I shit, kneeling next to an air conditioning unit while a parade of people strolled leisurely past.
A few years back, I had a job that I left for work at 4:00 AM. In the mornings, I was extremely quiet, as to not wake up the rest of the family, so once I left and locked the door, that was it. No re-entry as it had a latch that I set to lock that I could not open once it was shut. Standing by my car, I was having a morning smoke, when the unlocking mechanism in nicotine set things in motion. Stomach began to boil and swirl and there was no turning back or no time to think. Grabbed my chef’s pants and whipped them around my ankles and squatted. About a gallon of hot mess came out all over the grass. I had a towel laying on the lawnmower outside and decided to use that for clean-up, not really remembering that I had used it the previous evening to wipe up gasoline overspillage on the mower when I filled it. It felt like my ass was melting and I let out a yelp. Then I saw a blue bulb flick on in the corner of me eye. It was my 70 year old next door neighbor, who was standing there staring at me with my pants around my ankles hovering over a football sized pile of excrement. She said “Good Morning” and walked back in. Couldn’t face her for months after that. SHould have seen the amount of flies in my yard when I came home that evening.
Classic !!
Went to a bar on Capitol Hill and got lipwalking drunk on beer and schnapps. Wandered into the ladies room, went into a stall, shut the door, sat down and proceeded to take a nice relaxing whiz when I heard someone come into the stall next to me.
Someone crying. Hard.
And every time she’d really cut loose with a wail, she’d fart. LOUDLY. ‘Waaaa, hicWaaaaFFFFFFFRAP!FTft ft hic waaaaaa….” like that.
I started laughing.
I could not stop.
For some reason, the back of the stall door was mirrored. I caught sight of myself sitting there with my pants around my ankles, laughing like a moron, and started laughing more.
The woman next to me went silent for a moment, and then all of a sudden blew the back off the toilet with what sounded like a firehose full of oatmeal. Just cut DOWN. For about two minutes.
Man, I had to lean against the wall. I was HOWLING.
Now it’s ‘hicWaaaaa, frRRAP!GADOOSHSLOOSHGADOOSH hic Waaaaaaa….’ and I’m still laughing. I can’t stop. I have tears running down my face at this point and the symphony next door just keeps on going. I can hear women coming in and walking right back out. And oh lordy the smell, kids. THE SMELL.
I was hoarse for a couple days after that one. Yeah, good times.
Literal LOL at work with tears. Awesome story.
holy fucklebugs! That is frickin’ CLASSIC.
WOW! Too funny.
HahaLOLhahahaha… Damn… that was a good laugh.
I can’t stop laughing at these tales. I don’t have any that i can relate, but I’ll just post a link to the infamous Ryan’s steak house story – beef and macaroni! Its hilarious.
http://www.ihos.com/steakhouse.html
I don’t have a personal story of my own, but when my son was relatively newly potty trained, if he had to go #2 he would tell us his tummy was “Floakin”. to this day I have no idea what that means except to get him to the toilet RIGHT. NOW.
So our family was eating at a Darryl’s restaurant when he announces towards the end of the meal that his tummy was floakin. His dad takes him to the men’s room. The girls and I are sitting there for several minutes when their dad rushes by, throws his credit card on the table carrying our son out to the car.
I pay for the meal and get out to the car. Turns out the boy had pretty much exploded all over the seat, floor and walls. His dad was mortified. I still laugh about it 18 years later.
I have had my fair share of bathroom issues but my all time favorite story involves my friend Tim.
When we were in High School we were on the wrestling team, and after our weekend tournaments we would go to Tim’s house (Thank god we were at his house) to play cards, video games, eat pizza and just be stupid high schoolers.
Well we were sitting there playing cards, being guys we would rate each other’s farts on different categories. Well Tim lets one rip, and it sounded like you stepped on a bullfrog with your left foot and a duck with your right. A real sheet ripper. Well being the clown Tim is, he replies “OH I better check that one…” and goes wrist deep into the back of his pants.
Thinking he was going to come out squeaky clean, he pulls his hand out all proud, but to his dismay, the boy sharted fiercely. From wrist to the tip of his middle finger was a skid mark of brown doom. As his eyes focused on his finger, the blood fell from his face and an uproar from the crowd erupted when we all figured out what had happened.
Like previously mentioned, we were at Tim’s house, so he went upstairs to change his pants. Well he came downstairs and we were still rolling on the floor and told him he had it all over his back also. Tim thought we were messing with him and he took his shirt off, we were not lying. When Tim pulled his hand out of his pants the first time, he wiped his poo-hand up his back.
To this day, this is my favorite poo story, and I tell it a few times a year when we meet new people.
I’ve told you about my 50 yard “dash” track story but here’s one about my sweet, very much missed father. (I feel that now he’s gone I can honor his memory by relaying this one!).
My parents were on one of those bus tours of Europe – drive to a capitol city, gawk at 37 cathedrals, get herded into a restaurant, get back on the bus, drive, get to hotel.
All was going swimingly until one day my father sat on the bus glumly looking out the window, not really speaking to my mother. He just said his stomach was shaky.
Painstakingly, they finally arrive at a restaurant and my father dashes off to the men’s room. For a LONG LONG time. The bus driver kept asking my mother if he should “see about James” and my mother – knowing my father was in full blow out mode assured him it wasn’t necessary. (by the way, my father went by Jim or Jimmy so the European “JAMES” was pretty funny).
Dad finally gets to the dining room, pasty white and looking like he just lost 40 pounds off of his already thin frame. The diners get rounded up to get back on the bus (must stick to the schedule) and my father grabs my mom’s arm and out of the corner of his mouth says “walk behind me and check my pants”.
Seems that dad had begun squirting before he reached the men’s room and had to gingerly remove his underwears and clean his ass. He flung the soiled britches in the bathroom’s wastebasket and tried to clean his trousers as best he could. Oh and there was an attendant in the men’s room the entire time.He swore he smelt shit the rest of that long, miserable bus ride.
They happened to be in Copenhagen so the old adage “there’s something rotten in Denmark” was a fitting expression.
Upon further review I DO have a story to tell. A few years ago, at the Illinois State Fair, we were treated to a concert with Cheap Trick, Head East, and REO Speedwagon, all from Illinois. (Hey I’m old and these bands were hot back when I was in college!)
I belong to a group that provides concessions at the grandstand, and we have our own private party area behind the seats. Unbeknownst to me, what I thought was vodka and lemonade was actually everclear and lemonade. That stuff plays heck with my digestive tract….
Needless to say, I was totally shitfaced at the concert. Upon arrival at home, I proceeded to 1) puke, 2) blow explosive diahrea all over the toilet and the floor of the bathroom.
I promised to hose the place down upon comnig home from work the next day, the wife must have still been comatose and didn’t realize what i was talking about. OH – and I totally forgot that in the afternoon we had a rep for a tile company coming over to measure that bathroom for new floor tile!
When I got home I asked the wife if the tile rep had arrived – the answer was,”yes she stopped by and left already”.
I then said “You did NOT let that rep go in the master bathroom did you?”
For some strange reason, the wife never went in that bathroom all day, and did not realize the amount of destruction I had left behind…
We never heard back from that tile company rep.
I only imagine the stories she must tell – “those people are the most disgusting pigs I’ve ever met”.
LMAO!
OMG that is HILARIOUS!
Aint it great that a bunch of 40 and 50 year olds can have this much fun with poop and fart stories. Got some good laughs out of these posts.
Classic shit.
40 and 50 sure, but mentally we’re all, like, 11.
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I unfortunately live with the trots due to a med I’m on..I’m always “thisclose” to shittin the pants.. I’ve shit my bed twice in the past year and when that happened, I never moved so fast in my life. You would have thought I was auditioning for cirque de solei .. Shits funny though.. Love these stories.. I can relate to women walking in the bathroom and walking right out at work.. I smile and think my job here is done hahahahaha
I haven’t shit the bed in a long time. I have shit the car though.
What meds make you do that?
I have shit my shoes, bed, a 46 thousand dollar car, kitchen floor etc etc all while wearing pants, so shitting my pants is pretty mundane for me. My best was either shitting a grocery store in the dead of winter or giving painful birth to a 4 and a half pound turd in Germany that mysteriously disappeared without flushing….. I still wonder about that one.