PimpBot, I salute you.
pure poetry
In 2000, I went to Spain, going from LAX, had a layover in Newark, and on to Madrid.
I ate the in flight meal from LAX to Newark (big mistake), and going down the runway for takeoff for the Newark-Madrid flight, I heard the BG’s coming. Everyone knows the BG’s (bubbly guts). When you hear your stomach rumble and moan, you feel a sudden surge of pressure rushing toward your asshole. We are literally accelerating down the runway, and I hurdle the guy in the aisle seat next to me and haul ass down the aisle to get to the bathroom.
The stewardess stops me and says, “Sir ! We are taking off ! You cannot be out of your seat!” I reply with, “Look lady, I got one thing to say…it’s comin’ out!” She moved aside, and I blew that thing up for a good 10 minutes. Quite a funny feeling while sitting on the shitter, and being tilted at a good angle (the plane climbing to your typical 30,000 feet). Had to use the hand rails for the first time in my life.
[quote]PimpBot5000 wrote:
It was back in Spring of 2008 when I experienced *The Event"…
On weekdays, I was on a very restrictive diet - oxygen smeared on a celery stick could have been construed as cheating - as well as a very demanding fat-loss program. My energy levels were roughly the same as a tree lemur on valium, and feces was a rare visitor to my toilet bowl. After 3 or 4 days, the combusted remnants of my meager diet would finally exit my GI tract (probably out of sheer boredom), but the accumulated mass was roughly the size of one of those midget corn cobs you see at Chinese restaurants - only a lot more shriveled.
Things were different on weekends, but that particular weekend was to be much, much different. My thought patterns at the time are a bit cloudy, but I somehow convinced myself that I was depleted of glycogen - dangerously so - and that the only recourse would be to devour upwards of 15,000 calories - primarily in the forms of pizza, pasta, cookies, and Ben & Jerry’s. I also purchased an entire child’s birthday cake. The kindly Japanese baker asked me what name I’d like written on it. “Gunner”, I replied.
Within about two hours of staggering slices of pizza and various deserts, it was clear that I had made a colossal error in judgment, but also that I had reached the point of no return. A couple hours more and I was done. I literally finished every last morsel of what I purchased, and I passed out on the tatami floor, hovering on the brink of what was no doubt a diabetic coma.
Fast forward to about 9pm that night. A sense of severe fecal urgency woke me from my gluttonous stupor, and I sprinted over to the tiny toilet room in my apartment, which any visitor to Japanese can attest is not much bigger than a refrigerator box. As no stranger to a Chinese buffet, I had taken monumental dumps before. This…this was to be different.
I can’t properly quantify or qualify the fecal scourge which erupted from my asshole. One would have to invent a new unit of measurement to quantify it, and maybe one of our more science-minded members could, but if you were to somehow combine cubic foot, kiloton and decibel into one unit, you might be getting close. In terms of appearance, If you were to somehow precipitate the combined, lifetime utterings of every cast member of “Jersey Shore” into a tar-like sludge, and dump it into a Scottish bog to stew and fester for 500 years, it wouldn’t be half as vile as what was expunged from my rectum that night.
After the initial, crushing waves of that fecal tsunami had blasted against the fine porcelain of my toilet, I spent a solid two minutes spraying out semi-frequent blasts of sludge, as well as pondering the mistakes I had made thus far in my life. I felt relieved…but not really.
I soon figured out why. Unbeknownst to me, there were several rock-hard shit nuggets loitering around my intestines - likely remnants of my weekdays of near starvation. They were waiting for an excuse to come out, and the fact that my colon had decreased in size by 80% seemed excuse enough. This is the stage I coined “The Bombardment”.
Lubricated by liquid shit and propelled by involuntary rectal spasms, several large nuggets of hardened shit shot out at near supersonic speeds, plummeting into the vile soup I had produced just minutes before. I pictured that scene from “Band of Brothers” where the allies are in the frozen woods trying to withstand an artillery barrage - but this was much worse. Spatters, spurts, globs and gloops of filth were propelled all over my ass cheeks. My balls were dripping in my own shit. It was not my finest hour.
Toilet paper was not going to suffice here, so I stumbled over to the shower room, leaving an evenly-spaced trail of shit droplets on the floor. I rinsed myself off and sat on the shower floor for a good 5 minutes, hugging my knees and letting the hot mist envelop the bathroom. I needed some time for quiet reflection.
Shortly thereafter, I went to assess what I had done. The “Platoon” music where Charlie Sheen surveys the Vietnamese village that had been raped and pillaged started playing in my head. There was nary a square inch of porcelain to be seen. I flushed, but some remained. I flushed again, but smudges were still there. A final flush took care of the mess to my satisfaction.
That was the most memorable shit I have ever taken.
[/quote]
This sounds like the most memorable shit I have ever heard of.
[quote]beachguy498 wrote:
[quote]Ronsauce wrote:
That’s got some length, but not much girth.
The best shits are the ones that only require one wipe, and THAT wipe is merely to confirm that you didn’t need to wipe in the first place.
[/quote]
I had one of those the other day… if I was at someone else’s house, I would have put the paper back on the roll. It was one of those dumps that is on a scale of a weeping photo of Jesus or the feeling one gets from winning Power Ball or scoring an 8-ball of peruvian rock.
[/quote]
It’s fairly easy to have these everyday in this era of fiber supps like Metamucil or Benefiber or Citrucel or some combo of them…
[quote]PimpBot5000 wrote:
It was back in Spring of 2008 when I experienced *The Event"…
On weekdays, I was on a very restrictive diet - oxygen smeared on a celery stick could have been construed as cheating - as well as a very demanding fat-loss program. My energy levels were roughly the same as a tree lemur on valium, and feces was a rare visitor to my toilet bowl. After 3 or 4 days, the combusted remnants of my meager diet would finally exit my GI tract (probably out of sheer boredom), but the accumulated mass was roughly the size of one of those midget corn cobs you see at Chinese restaurants - only a lot more shriveled.
Things were different on weekends, but that particular weekend was to be much, much different. My thought patterns at the time are a bit cloudy, but I somehow convinced myself that I was depleted of glycogen - dangerously so - and that the only recourse would be to devour upwards of 15,000 calories - primarily in the forms of pizza, pasta, cookies, and Ben & Jerry’s. I also purchased an entire child’s birthday cake. The kindly Japanese baker asked me what name I’d like written on it. “Gunner”, I replied.
Within about two hours of staggering slices of pizza and various deserts, it was clear that I had made a colossal error in judgment, but also that I had reached the point of no return. A couple hours more and I was done. I literally finished every last morsel of what I purchased, and I passed out on the tatami floor, hovering on the brink of what was no doubt a diabetic coma.
Fast forward to about 9pm that night. A sense of severe fecal urgency woke me from my gluttonous stupor, and I sprinted over to the tiny toilet room in my apartment, which any visitor to Japanese can attest is not much bigger than a refrigerator box. As no stranger to a Chinese buffet, I had taken monumental dumps before. This…this was to be different.
I can’t properly quantify or qualify the fecal scourge which erupted from my asshole. One would have to invent a new unit of measurement to quantify it, and maybe one of our more science-minded members could, but if you were to somehow combine cubic foot, kiloton and decibel into one unit, you might be getting close. In terms of appearance, If you were to somehow precipitate the combined, lifetime utterings of every cast member of “Jersey Shore” into a tar-like sludge, and dump it into a Scottish bog to stew and fester for 500 years, it wouldn’t be half as vile as what was expunged from my rectum that night.
After the initial, crushing waves of that fecal tsunami had blasted against the fine porcelain of my toilet, I spent a solid two minutes spraying out semi-frequent blasts of sludge, as well as pondering the mistakes I had made thus far in my life. I felt relieved…but not really.
I soon figured out why. Unbeknownst to me, there were several rock-hard shit nuggets loitering around my intestines - likely remnants of my weekdays of near starvation. They were waiting for an excuse to come out, and the fact that my colon had decreased in size by 80% seemed excuse enough. This is the stage I coined “The Bombardment”.
Lubricated by liquid shit and propelled by involuntary rectal spasms, several large nuggets of hardened shit shot out at near supersonic speeds, plummeting into the vile soup I had produced just minutes before. I pictured that scene from “Band of Brothers” where the allies are in the frozen woods trying to withstand an artillery barrage - but this was much worse. Spatters, spurts, globs and gloops of filth were propelled all over my ass cheeks. My balls were dripping in my own shit. It was not my finest hour.
Toilet paper was not going to suffice here, so I stumbled over to the shower room, leaving an evenly-spaced trail of shit droplets on the floor. I rinsed myself off and sat on the shower floor for a good 5 minutes, hugging my knees and letting the hot mist envelop the bathroom. I needed some time for quiet reflection.
Shortly thereafter, I went to assess what I had done. The “Platoon” music where Charlie Sheen surveys the Vietnamese village that had been raped and pillaged started playing in my head. There was nary a square inch of porcelain to be seen. I flushed, but some remained. I flushed again, but smudges were still there. A final flush took care of the mess to my satisfaction.
That was the most memorable shit I have ever taken.
[/quote]
That was the funniest fucking thing I’ve read in a long, long time. Well done, my friend. The best part was about how you “purchased an entire child’s birthday cake.” I don’t know why, but that is downright HYSTERICAL to me. You were so hungry you bought a goddamn birthday cake, and a “child’s” one, at that. HAHA. Oh my god, I’m DYING over here.
[quote]PimpBot5000 wrote:
It was back in Spring of 2008 when I experienced *The Event"…[/quote]
Ha ha ha, very nicely done
This is one of the few threads where I have actually laughed out loud, great shit fellas (zing!)
[quote]Iron Dwarf wrote:
Yeah, but did you ever dump a 2-tone turd?
[/quote]
No, but I had a friend try one time.
My friend used to work at the Dollar Store (you don’t get much more classy than that) and she’d bring random shit home all the time. Her drunk cousins used to come hang out late at night and one of them discovered when he ate a blue playdo, his poo turned blue.
So he reasoned, if he ate a yellow one and a blue one, he should be able to get green.
What actually happened was he ended up choking on it for about two minutes. This dude was much larger than my friend or I, so we couldn’t do much about it. He eventually hacked it up and then decided to read the back of the container while catching his breath.
“Do not give to children under the age of 3. May present choking hazard.”
[quote]Professor X wrote:
It was 1am and I has just finished off 32 chicken wings, 4 rootbeers, 8 bread sticks, half a tray of pasta and half a large pizza. [/quote]
Damn I need to eat more…
I have clogged an airplane toilet (well I had a poop that wouldn’t flush), and I have clogged a toilet in the Louvre.
As a kid I shit my pants trying to make a puddle ripple with a fart…when I say shit I mean like what bear shit looks like on the ground.
[quote]byukid wrote:
I have clogged an airplane toilet (well I had a poop that wouldn’t flush), and I have clogged a toilet in the Louvre.[/quote]
C’mon! My dog could poop one that could clog an airplane toilet!
And you also mentioned toilets in France?!?! I’ve clogged French toilets and I’ve never even been there!
[quote]Nards wrote:
[quote]byukid wrote:
I have clogged an airplane toilet (well I had a poop that wouldn’t flush), and I have clogged a toilet in the Louvre.[/quote]
C’mon! My dog could poop one that could clog an airplane toilet!
And you also mentioned toilets in France?!?! I’ve clogged French toilets and I’ve never even been there! [/quote]
I’ve clogged Japanese toilets and I shit in the woods.
[quote]PimpBot5000 wrote:
That was the most memorable shit I have ever taken.
[/quote]
Hahahahah! Great story there Pimp. You know you have a talent for writing about shit.
I’m really glad I started this thread, good work everyone. Pimpbot, none of us are worthy.
If you don’t like all the time and paper wasted to clean up after a messy dump just take a spoon or two of Metamucil every day. I use the Costco Psyllim Fiber. Not only is it healthy for you but no more MUD SHITS. One wipe with some TP and then a baby wipe and you’re done.
The WORST pain I’ve ever had in my life, worse than when my molars were removed, was from constipation. Don’t know what the fuck plugged me up but twice I couldn’t crap and I was SCREAMING in pain and almost passed out. Couldn’t even sit on the bowl it hurt so bad.
Gentlemen I give you The Monster. Measuring an easy 2 feet end to end, averaging as thick as your wrist for the majority of its length. It did not spring from my ass thankfully
Bumping so new people can discover this masterpiece…shameless, I know.