The Bathroom Story...
CamaroSSBoy346
12-12-2005, 08:22 PM
All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning
computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething
cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over
forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd tried to jumpstart the
process, beginning my day with a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal,
following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch
at Taco Bell. As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with
subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things
would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to pick up an order
for my wife. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way backto the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go.
I hurried to the mall bathrooms. I surveyed the five stalls, which I have
numbered 0 through 4 (I write a lot of software) for your convenience:
0.Occupied.
1.Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one.
2.Poo on seat.
3.Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.
4.No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable sticky object near base of
toilet.
Clearly, it had to be Stall #1. I trudged back, entered, dropped trou and
sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful Sh1tter. I wasn't happy about being
next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.
I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds
of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone
conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of
Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. Sh1tter was blathering to Mrs. Sh1tter about the sh1tty day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.
Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer
cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder with one hand, braced my other hand
against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded
with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone
ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall.
The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not
unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit the resonance frequency
of the stall, and it shook gently.
Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became
apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my colon's
continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and (3) the
bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench. It was as if a
gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way underthe stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart had
ended his conversation in mid-sentence.
"Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with suppressed sounds of
choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear
that (gag)??"
Now there was no stopping me. I pushed for all I was worth. I could swear
that in the resulting cacophony of rips, squirts, splashes, poots, and
blasts, I was actually lifted slightly off the pot. The amount of stuff in
me was incredible. It sprayed against the bowl with tremendous force. Later,
in surveying the damage, I'd see that liquid poop had actually managed to
ricochet out of the bowl and run down the side on to the floor. But for now,
all I could do was hang on for the ride.
Next door I could hear him fumbling with the paper dispenser as he
desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made
themselves heard over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw up...
in my mouth... not... make it... tell the kids... love them... oh God..."
followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.
Alas, it is evidently difficult to hold one's phone and wipe one's bum at
the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding
down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by string of swear
words and gags. My poop-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet.
There was a lull in my production, and the restroom became deathly quiet. I
could envision him standing there, wondering what to do. A final anal
announcement came trumpeting from my behind, small chunks plopping noisily
into the water. That must have been the last straw. I heard a flush, a
fumbling with the lock, and then the stall door was thrown open. I heard him
running out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage.
I felt bad for the janitor who'd be forced to deal with this, but I knew
that flushing was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle that
unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor flooded with filth.
As I left, I glanced into the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl.
Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom
with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know.
I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and Shameless, looking around for a
face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has managed to transfer my Shamefulness to my anonymous poop-mate. I think it'll be a long time before he can bring himself to poop in public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in the loo. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the
bathroom.
:lol2:
computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething
cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over
forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd tried to jumpstart the
process, beginning my day with a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal,
following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch
at Taco Bell. As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with
subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things
would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to pick up an order
for my wife. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way backto the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go.
I hurried to the mall bathrooms. I surveyed the five stalls, which I have
numbered 0 through 4 (I write a lot of software) for your convenience:
0.Occupied.
1.Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one.
2.Poo on seat.
3.Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.
4.No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable sticky object near base of
toilet.
Clearly, it had to be Stall #1. I trudged back, entered, dropped trou and
sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful Sh1tter. I wasn't happy about being
next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.
I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds
of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone
conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of
Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. Sh1tter was blathering to Mrs. Sh1tter about the sh1tty day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.
Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer
cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder with one hand, braced my other hand
against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded
with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone
ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall.
The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not
unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit the resonance frequency
of the stall, and it shook gently.
Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became
apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my colon's
continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and (3) the
bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench. It was as if a
gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way underthe stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart had
ended his conversation in mid-sentence.
"Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with suppressed sounds of
choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear
that (gag)??"
Now there was no stopping me. I pushed for all I was worth. I could swear
that in the resulting cacophony of rips, squirts, splashes, poots, and
blasts, I was actually lifted slightly off the pot. The amount of stuff in
me was incredible. It sprayed against the bowl with tremendous force. Later,
in surveying the damage, I'd see that liquid poop had actually managed to
ricochet out of the bowl and run down the side on to the floor. But for now,
all I could do was hang on for the ride.
Next door I could hear him fumbling with the paper dispenser as he
desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made
themselves heard over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw up...
in my mouth... not... make it... tell the kids... love them... oh God..."
followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.
Alas, it is evidently difficult to hold one's phone and wipe one's bum at
the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding
down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by string of swear
words and gags. My poop-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet.
There was a lull in my production, and the restroom became deathly quiet. I
could envision him standing there, wondering what to do. A final anal
announcement came trumpeting from my behind, small chunks plopping noisily
into the water. That must have been the last straw. I heard a flush, a
fumbling with the lock, and then the stall door was thrown open. I heard him
running out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage.
I felt bad for the janitor who'd be forced to deal with this, but I knew
that flushing was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle that
unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor flooded with filth.
As I left, I glanced into the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl.
Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom
with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know.
I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and Shameless, looking around for a
face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has managed to transfer my Shamefulness to my anonymous poop-mate. I think it'll be a long time before he can bring himself to poop in public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in the loo. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the
bathroom.
:lol2:
Damien
12-12-2005, 08:49 PM
LOVED IT!!!!!!!
rofllmfao!!! :rofl: :lol: :grinyes: :iceslolan
my roommate is staring... :grinno:
rofllmfao!!! :rofl: :lol: :grinyes: :iceslolan
my roommate is staring... :grinno:
elementskater15
12-12-2005, 08:58 PM
The way the initial poo shot is desribed is priceless! I salute whoever wrote that. It has a very good range of vocabulary too.
MagicRat
12-12-2005, 09:35 PM
We have a bonefide novelist here at AF!!
imtheoneandonlyD
12-12-2005, 10:28 PM
lol, funny stuff
vinnym86
12-12-2005, 10:28 PM
holy shit... (pun intended?)
i'm only half way through the read, but i gotta post first, this is HILARIOUS!! You are quite the author. +1 to MagicRat's reply!
i'm only half way through the read, but i gotta post first, this is HILARIOUS!! You are quite the author. +1 to MagicRat's reply!
Broke_as_****
12-12-2005, 10:47 PM
Easily one of the best written pieces to grace the Off-Topic section in quite sometime. Certainly to be bookmarked for many returns.
The most hilarious part was I had Pachabel's "Canon in D" playing in the background.
The most hilarious part was I had Pachabel's "Canon in D" playing in the background.
I~AM~AN~IDIOT
12-12-2005, 11:14 PM
Emoticons Related To This Topic: http://www.websmileys.com/sm/obscene/eck27.gif http://www.websmileys.com/sm/obscene/eck28.gif http://www.websmileys.com/sm/crazy/1092.gif
CivicSlayr
12-12-2005, 11:22 PM
That made me laugh so hard i spit my dip out, congradulations. You have sucseeded where many have failed.
CivicSlayr
12-12-2005, 11:25 PM
This is signature link worthy.
Akira13126
12-12-2005, 11:26 PM
OMG the funnyist thing I've read in a while. I almost started laughing in the middle of my ASM class here at Wyotech. I dont know how I more more sorry for; you, the guy in the next stall, the guy who has to clean it or the poor shitter.... Damn man
vinnym86
12-12-2005, 11:50 PM
This is signature link worthy.
:1:
:1:
bakergtr
12-13-2005, 04:38 AM
omg f*ck*ng hilarious, roflmfao
mike1224
12-13-2005, 08:32 AM
hahahah holy sh1t. I haven't laughed like that in a week. Thats funny stuff there
JackGivens
12-13-2005, 10:19 AM
Well told. I feel like I was there in person. And bravo on a super poo.
-Jacko-
12-13-2005, 10:27 AM
Hilarious!
Officer Redneck
12-14-2005, 03:01 AM
I don't think I have ever laughed that hard in my life!!!!!
Got Torque?
12-14-2005, 01:07 PM
duuuude... wow, i was havin a pretty effed up day and that definitely made it better. holy shit dude. thanks for the lifting laugh.
oneillchick
12-14-2005, 02:52 PM
lol....that was really funny.....im sitting here in the comp lab at school, and my laptop is back to back with one of my classmates, i almost went into convulsions laughing, and shes staring at my like im freakin insane...
sv650s
12-14-2005, 04:16 PM
:lol: i'm speechless
XeVeNskyLiNE
12-14-2005, 11:54 PM
"Show that turd who's boss!"
Haha. The way you used your vocabulary made that 19276239472x better than your average poo story. Bravo sir.
Haha. The way you used your vocabulary made that 19276239472x better than your average poo story. Bravo sir.
jibbijib
12-15-2005, 12:24 AM
Xevenskyline, that 240 avatar gives me that much more reasons to want a 240sx.
streetrcr45
12-15-2005, 12:47 AM
I don't know what it was, but the ungodly disgustingness of that story enticed me to read it that much more...lol
uranium235powered
12-15-2005, 09:37 AM
Oh my god.
This is freaking hilarious!!
I love this story...
I feel bad that he dropped his cell though.
This is freaking hilarious!!
I love this story...
I feel bad that he dropped his cell though.
RickwithaTbird
12-16-2005, 07:07 PM
funny.
That reminds me of the time I was at Boomers (Arcade), I went into the mens room, and it looked like somebody took that exact same dump, standing up, bent over, aiming at the wall. Literally the worst thing I ever saw in my life. Shit on the seat, the floor, the wall, the stall... everywhere. And the SMELL..... Horrendous. Steve-o would have puked.
That reminds me of the time I was at Boomers (Arcade), I went into the mens room, and it looked like somebody took that exact same dump, standing up, bent over, aiming at the wall. Literally the worst thing I ever saw in my life. Shit on the seat, the floor, the wall, the stall... everywhere. And the SMELL..... Horrendous. Steve-o would have puked.
skibum1111
12-20-2005, 05:45 PM
How many times do you suppose this story has been emailed or linked to? Even reading it now I'm laughing, wife thinks im crazy...
Gohan Ryu
12-20-2005, 06:09 PM
What, no credit for the real author, CamaroSSBoy346? :nono:
Sorry, but it's old...
http://misc.pcsi.ws/browse/webs/Dropped%20Call.htm
Sorry, but it's old...
http://misc.pcsi.ws/browse/webs/Dropped%20Call.htm
CamaroSSBoy346
12-21-2005, 10:49 AM
What, no credit for the real author, CamaroSSBoy346? :nono:
Sorry, but it's old...
http://misc.pcsi.ws/browse/webs/Dropped%20Call.htm
no.. because I got the story from svtperformance.com which ALSO doesnt credit the author.
Sorry, but it's old...
http://misc.pcsi.ws/browse/webs/Dropped%20Call.htm
no.. because I got the story from svtperformance.com which ALSO doesnt credit the author.
Chevy4life1985
12-21-2005, 11:41 AM
Dude my sides hurt. I was laughin so hard that my boss came over and read and started cracking up. We sent the story around the office ahahahahahahahahahahahhaha
thecackster
12-21-2005, 11:53 AM
WOW....GREAT....I had to stop between paragraphs and laugh! WOW!
Chevy4life1985
12-21-2005, 01:17 PM
Sticky *stomp stomp* STICKY! *STOMP STOMP* STICKY! *STOMP STOMP*
tonioseven
12-22-2005, 10:39 AM
That was funny as hell!!!:lol::lol::lol:
MonsterBengt
12-22-2005, 10:52 AM
fkn hysterical :D
CivicSlayr
01-16-2006, 12:39 AM
bumped
Toksin
01-16-2006, 01:30 AM
What's with the American fascination with feces?
It's really not that funny, and no, it won't become a sticky.
It's really not that funny, and no, it won't become a sticky.
vinnym86
01-16-2006, 01:32 AM
bumped? ... u see what happens when tonio's not delivering the goods?
-The Stig-
01-16-2006, 01:40 AM
What's with the American fascination with feces?
It's really not that funny, and no, it won't become a sticky.
I agree... although, I found it funny... it doesn't need to be stickied.
The story will grace the OT forum once again in about 6 months, or one similar to it. By that time, we'll be ready for it again. If it's stickied... it looses it's funny.
It's really not that funny, and no, it won't become a sticky.
I agree... although, I found it funny... it doesn't need to be stickied.
The story will grace the OT forum once again in about 6 months, or one similar to it. By that time, we'll be ready for it again. If it's stickied... it looses it's funny.
xavier3jr
01-16-2006, 03:17 AM
that was hillarious!
carrrnuttt
01-16-2006, 03:39 AM
Hilarious. :lol2:
I must share this now. Below is a quote from another forum I frequent, and it is an absolutely true story, posted by a member that was stationed in Iraq, living in a tent with other soldiers:
Well, the last few days here have been hell on my bowels. I had the runs for a couple of days and I thought I was in the clear. I was relieved to be having dry farts and I though everything was going to be OK.
Anyways, I'm sleeping on my cot, when I'm suddenly awakened by some serious cramps and the urge to....well, let one loose. Now this is usually fun in a tent with 7 other guys (it's a guy thing), and I was silently laughing in anticipation of the stench that would soon fill the tent. I was expecting the normal gasps of outrage, and it was during these thoughts I tried to squeeze it out.
Well, there I am, laying on my stomach with my butt somewhat elevated under the covers. I'm pushing, but my butt feels kind of glued together, so I push harder. Suddenly, what erupted was not the loud blast I had been expecting. No, what I heard was a much quieter grurgling wet sounding Blaaaattt. :22yikes:
I lay there in silent mortification. I was pushing pretty hard, so the liquidy geyser that gushed forth was not small. I could feel it on my legs, back, and running under me.
At about this time I hear somebody say "what the hell was that"? I'm trying to lay thier quietly and figure out what to do next, when the smell hit me. Within a few seconds everybody else was gasping and leaving the tent.
I slowly got up and cleaned myself off the best I could with the clean parts of my sheets. I bundled them up and put them all in a plastic bag to take to the dumpster. About this time I hear the cans of deodorant spraying throughout the tent, so now there is a smell of crap and Old Spice, and about 3 other kinds of deodorant. Everbody is also pissed off at being awakened by the smell. One individual put on his gas mask. He was walking around sounding like Darth Vader when I hear him say "I think my mask is Fu&*#! because I can still smell it".
Everybody still thinks it was just a normal fart and I intend to keep it that way. I still have to figure out where to get some more sheets, but for now I'm going to break out my sleeping bag and reflect for a while on what happened.
I must share this now. Below is a quote from another forum I frequent, and it is an absolutely true story, posted by a member that was stationed in Iraq, living in a tent with other soldiers:
Well, the last few days here have been hell on my bowels. I had the runs for a couple of days and I thought I was in the clear. I was relieved to be having dry farts and I though everything was going to be OK.
Anyways, I'm sleeping on my cot, when I'm suddenly awakened by some serious cramps and the urge to....well, let one loose. Now this is usually fun in a tent with 7 other guys (it's a guy thing), and I was silently laughing in anticipation of the stench that would soon fill the tent. I was expecting the normal gasps of outrage, and it was during these thoughts I tried to squeeze it out.
Well, there I am, laying on my stomach with my butt somewhat elevated under the covers. I'm pushing, but my butt feels kind of glued together, so I push harder. Suddenly, what erupted was not the loud blast I had been expecting. No, what I heard was a much quieter grurgling wet sounding Blaaaattt. :22yikes:
I lay there in silent mortification. I was pushing pretty hard, so the liquidy geyser that gushed forth was not small. I could feel it on my legs, back, and running under me.
At about this time I hear somebody say "what the hell was that"? I'm trying to lay thier quietly and figure out what to do next, when the smell hit me. Within a few seconds everybody else was gasping and leaving the tent.
I slowly got up and cleaned myself off the best I could with the clean parts of my sheets. I bundled them up and put them all in a plastic bag to take to the dumpster. About this time I hear the cans of deodorant spraying throughout the tent, so now there is a smell of crap and Old Spice, and about 3 other kinds of deodorant. Everbody is also pissed off at being awakened by the smell. One individual put on his gas mask. He was walking around sounding like Darth Vader when I hear him say "I think my mask is Fu&*#! because I can still smell it".
Everybody still thinks it was just a normal fart and I intend to keep it that way. I still have to figure out where to get some more sheets, but for now I'm going to break out my sleeping bag and reflect for a while on what happened.
Hybridology
01-16-2006, 09:43 PM
I'm inspired.... let's see if I can get away w/ blaming it on the dog...
driftinggrifter2
01-17-2006, 05:53 PM
funny as hell I'll never be able to look at a public restroom in the same way again
CamaroSSBoy346
12-26-2006, 03:56 AM
haha, I was looking for another thread of mine, when I stumbled upon this. I figured I'd bring it to the top, once more, for a few more laughs..
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