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stapler
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this thread is making me waffle uncontrollably at the lab at school


i have two good ones myself:

first, i was a little scared confused 1st grader in a catholic school. one fine day at late recess i start feeling a little bowel pressure. This is certainly a sign of trouble to come. I go sit in this little unoccupied playground equipment thing made of an old sewer pipe and proceed to shit myself with unimaginable fury. Now, being a little kid in 1st grade, i wasn't exactly sure what to do, and i was feeling very much like the scared kid without his mom; so i just sat in the pipe until my teacher literally pulled me out and noticed the diarrhea stains on the pipe, and my leg. I was rushed to a little-used downstairs bathroom where my teacher waited for my mom to show up, all the while handing me fresh clothes, while i sat on that toilet....still shitting

every few minutes she asked if i was done



the second event was more recent, and any distance runners here will sympathize:

i was running an 18 mile marathon training run in a remote mountain park outside of Boulder, CO. Now, occasionally running- especially very long distance- can really jerk your bowels into a fit of crapping, and i suddenly noticed during this run that i needed to poop. NOW. I was near no shitting facility, had no wiping paraphernaila, i was about 8 mi away from my car, and no shelter from other runners or cyclists. I tried to run back (having had this feeling before, but not so early in the run, i thought i could get back to the parking-lot portapotty), but about a mile later i was in full scale agony, and reduced to a walk. My poor little chocolate starfish could take no more squeezing...nobody should ever have that much lactic acid built up in their butthole. No chance of the portacrapper...i was gonna blow a load of nasty...now. I go behind a little hill by a pond, shit leaking into my bike shorts, and perform the "Move" just in time for my formidable colon to explode in an orgy of poop. The power of this release from my ass- and plenty of pressurized pockets of gas along with it- nearly shook the earth; a flock of disgusted birds took quick flight. I used my favorite running shirt (RIP) to wipe off a beautiful smear of ass-juice, and left the scene as quickly as i could, noting that that the smell could drop a donkey, and the gas explosions were probably heard as far away as Denver

ever since that fateful day, i've brought a few kleenex with me to clean up, or worn a cheap shirt

EDIT: luckily the marathon spasms are very, very rare

Last edited by stapler; 03-14-2005 at 03:21 PM..
Old 03-14-2005, 03:14 PM stapler is offline  
#112