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Surfing. Full wetsuit. Huge day (for Oregon). No stopping for anything.
Paddling hard to make it in on a biggun. Nope, too late. Over the top it took me... UUUGGGGGHHHHHHaaaaaahhhhh...
Shit my wetsuit.
Now what? Made my way to shore, dropped wetsuit to my ankles and scooped the fecal material onto the beach. Washed up with a refreshing Pacific Ocean winter saltwater splash to the anus.
Zip Zip and back out I went.
Itched a little. Fingers stunk too...:fmicon:
Man, this thread has it all. Suspense, action, intrigue, critical thinking skills!
It keeps gettin better and better. There's nothing like people fessing up their poop-the-pants stories to get ya through the summer.
Sprite
shatring is good for all
white karate pants?
and dankhucker and hairys threads were bad:rolleyes2
i just sharted...
Pee pee post (NSR - not shit related)
A few years ago I was mountainbiking down a singletrack trail in Santa Barbara. A tandem ahead of me stalled on a small sandy incline before continuing down. As I crested the roller I paused, causing me to dead elephant. Nope, I didn't fall towards the upslope side of the cliff, rather I went down, falling about 5 feet below the trail and directly onto a lagging post. Things could have been much worse. I ended up with a minor bruise just above my hip.
Later in the week, I went to the rock climbing gym. Apparently, the climbing harness rubbed on my side and caused a blood vessel to rupture. That night, a contusion the size of a grapefruit swelled on my oblique. Laying on my bed in the frat house in the morning, I couldn't tell what hurt worse, moving anywhere other than supine, or the pain from having to go pee and holding it all night. I finally made my move, writhing through the pain radiating from my side, I made it to the bathroom, threw the door open, and dropped trou.
The resulting relief and pooling blood in the contusion caused all the blood to rush out of my head. I passed out and fell backwards into the hallway. I awoke to the sight of 10 of my brothers staring down at me on the floor with my pants around my ankles. You know something bad happened when you are staring up at a group circled around you.
Tough to top that ^^^^
...but I shit the bed a few months ago during a bout of food poisoning. That $30 mattress guard the salesman talked me into buying was a worthy investment.
This is totally unexciting, but I just found out about this thread. Sitting watching a movie with some friends. Had farted a couple of times early in the day, NBD. Because those didn't really smell, I decided to sneak another one out. Afterwards I was feeling quite wet so I went to the bathroom to check myself. Sure enough, shart central. Had to go was the pants.
Funny enough, though, it never smelled.
several years ago I was in a bar, more of a club really, talking with some random chicks my buddy and I had met, we were actually making some good progress with these two girls. I felt what I thought was a fart coming on, and since it was a super crowded place, and I was wasted, I gambled. Then I lost. Big time. Fully shit myself in the club, while talking to chicks.Crap I babbled some excuse about why I had to leave the conversation, and went to the bathroom. Walk into the bathroom, huge line, disgusting bathroom, no door on the "stall" no way I am dealing with this here. So, I left the bar, went to the gas station on the next block, and surveyed the situation. Disgusting, fortunately, almost all of the shit was contained in my boxers. So, I did what any other drunk asshole would do, pulled the
ol' wipe 'n' leave, I left the boxers on the floor of the bathroom, cleaned myself as best I could, and went back to the club. What my drunk ass didn't realize when I left the bar, was that it was almost last call, so by the time I got back, they would not let me back in. Now, this was before everyone had a cell phone, so I had to wait outside the bar for my buddy. It was winter, and I had to wait outside for a good 45 minutes. It sucked, needless to say, I did not get laid that night.
Many years ago, I was living in my first big boy apartment. It was Sunday clean-up day, and I was taking advantage of my singleness, doing laundry and cleaning au natural. I crouched down to pick something up, and let 'er rip. And found myself with a slightly larger cleanup than I'd had a moment before.
Nothing takes the shine off a new place like crapping on the living room rug.
Not sure quite how I got here, but this thread is hilarious
Loveland riding chair 8, just before lunch. Questionable fart turned into soggy afternoon turns. The ride home was also less than ideal but thank God for dwr.
This thread is BS. Pics or it didn't happen.Quote:
Originally Posted by abraham
Was about 25 min from the ski house and I could feel the pressure building… I can handle it and I want to shit in my own toilet.
Pressure's building in my bowels and I'm maybe 10 min away… Stay calm, stay clam. Finally I roll up the driveway, yes!!!
I gently swing both legs out together, butt cheeks clenched… I know I don't have much time until things get dirty. I walk straight legged clenched on
my tip toes to the door. Search my pockets…I don't have keys for the cabin and no garage door opener. Fuck! I consider shitting outside, look
around, only pine trees and cedar, nothing to wipe with and I know it's going to be messy. I figure out how to jack open the garage door, only
bending at the waist, knees tight, butt clenched.Get the garage door open enough to roll under "Indiana Jones style", get up straight legged and
clenched but no leakage yet (I think). Now, the door from the boot room into the house has a keyed lock on it too. So close, yet so far. My bowels
are now reaching maximum pressure. Thank goodness there is a workshop in the boot room and the locked door's hinges are on my side….
Stay calm, grab a nail set and hammer, pop the pins out of the hinges, remove door and I'm home free. It's a custom door cut down, the bottom
hinge is only 6" off the floor. Fuck! That is awful low when you are at maximum pressure and about to shit ur pants. Pop the top and middle hinge
no prob but my anus is losing its battle against the torrent of diarrhea. I have to get that bottom hinge pin out. I drop to my stomach and start
hammering the nail set/pin with the side of the hammer its so low…and it's fucking stuck! Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap, F…U…C…K !!!! so close and I'm
now SHITTING MY PANTS !!!! Fuck, I start going ape shit on this hinge pin , it finally pops. I remove the door, I'm completely filthy inside my pants
and scoot to he bathroom, what a disgusting, stinking, messy scene. I finish the job on the toilet, clean toilet seat/toilet/floor , rinse pants,
underwear and socks, throw in washing machine, get ski gear on, go skiing.
I just shit my pants reading this. Well played!Quote:
Originally Posted by DDsnake
I'm sure there are sites with those pics if thats what you're into.Quote:
Originally Posted by xyz
Can't recommend any though
A
Can't believe this hasn't been posted here yet.
Anyone seen this gem? LOL, poor guy.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZfayydpIKc
Bump
Of course you shit your pants... it's obvious you are a dirty carpenter and do it all the time. Be honest how many porta-johns have been filled with your soiled undiesQuote:
Originally Posted by DDsnake
A few years ago I sharted mid-run on Targhee's closing day due to a combination of a hangover, greasy food, and more alcohol. I tossed the thermals in the trash and freeballed it in my one-piece for the rest of the day. Life's a dirty, gritty, ugly affair sometimes.
I have a real gem that I will write up tomorrow during my 13 hour drive to Nebraska.
A very accurate depiction of several stories in this thread. YOBAGOYA!
http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=GFaYEF5IZeA
Busted,(are you a detective?) but never left soiled underwear in the port-a-john. % wise, more than half my career was as a finishing carpenter, so there was almost always a toilet close by, even if the bowl was dry …..Quote:
Originally Posted by daviski
Earlier this year, would have been late August or early September I went on a week-long ski touring trip.
We hiked in to the Cleve Cole hut on Mt Bogong - with 25kg packs it was not a huge amount of fun but we got it done all the same. We arrived at the hut mid-afternoon which gave us enough time to pitch our tents, make dinner and then head to bed.
I remember an enormous feeling of contentment when I got in to my sleeping bag. There was a ton of snow, the weather forecast looked great & I was stoked for the week ahead. I was warm, comfortable and happy.
And then it happened. That rumble deep, deep down, that can only spell things that are no good. But there I was, comfortable and warm in my tent, surely it would just be a little grumble that would pass, right?
I lay there for quite some time in pure denial. This was compounded by the fact that it was quite foggy and I was fearful of not being able to find my way to the toilet - or back to my tent afterwards.
But then it all happened. The cramps were insane, I started to extricate myself from my sleeping bag, while this was happening, that started happening too. The look on my tent-mate's face was one of pure terror. It was his first night snow camping and he was witnessing the fermentation of an ebola crisis mere inches from where he was sleeping.
I finally got out of the tent, by this stage my pants were ruined, I staggered to the nearest tree, wrenched down the thermals and unloaded. After the first release of pressure it was time to head to the long drop toilet where I spent the bulk of the next few hours.
It was a great way to start a ski trip......
Then there's the story of a buddy of mine who lived in a condo at the base of the mountain he patrolled at. He wasn't feeling 100%, a bit of a rumbley tumbley, so he decided he'd better head down the mountain to a toilet. He quickly got worse and was trying to ski gently so as not to unleash the growing storm in his gut. He wasn't too far from safety when he hit a big grooming anomaly in the cat track. Shit his pants quite spectacularly. It flowed down into his boots. He just kept skiing right down to his condo and got in the shower, boots and all, and stripped off and cleaned up. Had to hose the boots out. I think they still smell a bit like shit when they're on the heated boot dryer.
You're leaving us hanging like a dingleberryQuote:
Originally Posted by wolfelot
One time I was touring and I decided I needed to shit. So I walked off the skin track a little bit and pulled my snow pants down and went at her. But little did I know that my snow pants were not completely out of the way, and I had some shit in my pants. I didn't notice the shit until That night after I had come home and I whipped off my under wear to have a shower and then I noticed the large festering shit in my underwear.
Has anyone ever stepped in their pile with ski boots on after shitting in the backcountry?
We need more bad-roo threads resurrected. Gold. Pure fkn gold!
My son and I were hiking down the Virgin Narrows. The Park Service gives you a shit bag which has chemicals that decompose the shit so you can just throw it in the trash when you get out. Second day there is an overwhelming smell of shit--damn, I thought, the shit bag leaked in my pack. Check it out--all is well. Turned out the smell was the rental canyoneering shoes. Advice to people hiking the Narrows--buy your own shoes.
Shit TR. Well, it just happened… again. (I wrote this last night)
I've been plugged up for a few days, so I took 2 "herbal cleanse" pills last night. (they usually work in 12 hours or so).The day was fine, but still, no bowel action that I thought might start by noon/mid afternoon… oh well.
Also , giant mareeba mangoes are in season somewhere and I've been eating a lot of them, so good.(but damn they're expensive).
I was taking my girlfriend and toddler out to dinner this night. Nice dinner and our toddler started getting really fussy at the end, time to make an exit, pay bill, I round up baby stuff while mom grabs baby, and we run for it. Get in car, baby is having a fit while mom is trying to strap him into
carseat (he is big and strong for his age), I'm just thinking, let's get home so we can chill. As soon Is I start driving, I realize I HAVE TO SHIT…REALLY BAD, but there's no turning back and with baby and mom, we have to get home! I tell myself "you can hold it!" A minute later I tell girlfriend calmly, "I have to go to the bathroom real bad". She says "oh no, do you think you can hold it?" I reply,"if we can't find somewhere to stop, I'M GOING TO SHIT MY PANTS!"
She says, "don't worry, we have leather seats". Hahahaha(but this was no laughing matter) I'm thinking to myself "I'm wearing Carhartts, they might contain it but I'm gonna try and hold it"
2-3 min later, we are on a main street. I can see a gas station about 200 meters away but traffic is at a standstill. My anus is losing it's battle
against my packed rumbling colon + cleanse pills fully activated and a gut full of pizza. I say "I'm a shitting my pants" as I try to clench my butt cheeks, my foot comes off the brake, my butt starts leaking and we lurch forward towards the car in front of us. I slam my foot back on the brake.
Finally get to the gas station(almost running a red light which mom usually blasts me for, but I was about to blast too…in a different way). Thank goodness, I can see relief and I slip out of the truck legs light together(damage control) and speed waddle into the gas station and ask for the washroom . I move to the obvious corner and find the open public bathroom, walk thru door, try to close the door and it won't close…WTF! I'm yanking on the door thinking it might be some kind strong magnet like a some fire doors have to hold them open.
I look down at the bottom corner of the door and there's some stainless steel components, a big junction box with conduit running out of either side…again WTF? I consider just SHITTING with the door wide open to the public, but I know it's going to be messy. I look closer and it's a heavy duty hook holding the door open. I try to flip the hook up off the door with my toe 2-3 times and it's not fucking working!!!!
I have no choice but to try to bend over without completely shitting myself, although thats already started. I bend over sideways from the hip and get this stupid hook with a funky bend in it unhooked, shut/lock the door and the show was on.
Run (unusually long bathroom) to the toilet (my anus is beyond maximum pressure, there has already been a small release), undoing my pants, I'm spinning, pulling down/ SHITTING and sitting down all in a split second… It was like opening a floodgate on the Yangtze River Dam…the pressure release was enormous.
Then for a few moments, "sweet relief"… until I realized I'd made a extremely large mess…I look down and there's a lump the size of a deformed racquet ball in my shorts, as well as streaking smear up to the top edge or the waistband. I quickly scoop up the solid waste matter our of my shorts, and realize that my legs,butt/ass feel extremely slimy and moist . I stand up slowly and turn around to see the SHIT MASSACRE… JEZUUS. I clean myself the best i can. Thankfully there was a mirror so I could look over my shoulder to see all of the the areas I'd missed(lower back included).
I've heard of "upper deckers" and seen shit splattered toilets/walls, walls, etc in my time and always thought how the hell does the happen without someone just being a sick jackass . Well, now I know.
The entire bowl, seat, front of the tank, edge of the upper deck, some wall and some floor were splattered with milk chocolate coloured poo filled with orange chunks(the mareeba mangoes) . I cleaned myself the best i could . The bathroom was perfectly clean when I came in and now looked like it had been attacked by a diarrhea bomb. I'd feel awful about leaving the bathroom in that state so i cleaned it best i could with paper towel and TP and left .
bless your heart
Jesus Fucking Christ that was awesome!
FixedQuote:
Originally Posted by shroom
Have a friend that whit himself just a few miles from home. He pulled down a dead end street, took his pants off and then his shit filled boxers. Dropped them on the ground at the end of the road. Bitched and moaned that he lost his favorite boxers. He went back a few months later twords the beginning of spring. Kicked around at the giant pile of snow that the plow had built up over the winter. After 20-30 mins. of digging he finds them, digs them out with a stick, takes them home, washes them and wears them to this day. I believe it was the last straw for his girlfriend as she left him shortly after she learned of this story.