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post #1 of 13 (permalink) Old 07-31-2007, 05:26 PM Thread Starter
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The Big Dump

THE BIG DUMP

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 shit 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 the wife. I completed
this task, and as I was walking past the stores on
my way back to 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 1
through 5 for your convenience:

1. Occupied.

2. Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as
it's next to the occupied one.

3. shit smeared on seat.

4. shit and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable
liquid splattered on seat.

5. No toilet paper, no stall door, something growing
near base of toilet.

Clearly, it had to be Stall #2. I trudged back,
entered, dropped my trousers and sat down. I'm normally a
fairly Shameful shitter. 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. shitter was blathering to Mrs. shitter
about the shitty 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 shit 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 under the 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 ****-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 shit-mate. I think it'll be a long time
before he can bring himself to shit in public -- and I
doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in the
latrine.
And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on
your phone in the bathroom.


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post #2 of 13 (permalink) Old 07-31-2007, 05:28 PM Thread Starter
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Cliffnotes
Never use the public toilet
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post #3 of 13 (permalink) Old 07-31-2007, 10:21 PM
 
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Nominated for funniest thing I've ever read. Laughed so hard tears were rolling down my face. Thank you

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post #4 of 13 (permalink) Old 07-31-2007, 10:48 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Belgium View Post
Nominated for funniest thing I've ever read. Laughed so hard tears were rolling down my face. Thank you

:imwst..I was laughing out loud at work

absolute (pardon the pun) crack up of a story


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ONCE YOU'VE HAD ASIAN, YOU WILL NEVER TOUCH CAUCASIAN
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OLD AGE AND TREACHERY WILL ALWAYS OVERCOME YOUTH AND ENTHUSIASM
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post #5 of 13 (permalink) Old 08-01-2007, 12:44 AM
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post #6 of 13 (permalink) Old 08-01-2007, 06:39 AM
 
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post #7 of 13 (permalink) Old 08-01-2007, 07:33 AM
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That's funny!

I've never been a shy shitter. Especially at work. In fact, I think I almost try to be loud when there is a bathroom full of people


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post #8 of 13 (permalink) Old 08-01-2007, 09:31 AM
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That was by far, the funniest, most detailed, shit story I have ever heard in my life.

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post #9 of 13 (permalink) Old 08-01-2007, 01:49 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by QQ View Post
Can you help me put your reply in context. Are you a shit story connoisseur or something? In conversations your family/friends do your humorous fecal stories extend beyond 3 word fart jokes?
ACTUALLY I am a "shit story connoisseur"

About 90% of my close friends are guys, so I hear a lot of those kinds of stories.

Thank you for your input Mr. Observance.it
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post #10 of 13 (permalink) Old 08-01-2007, 10:04 PM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by QQ View Post
Can you help me put your reply in context. Are you a shit story connoisseur or something? In conversations your family/friends do your humorous fecal stories extend beyond 3 word fart jokes?

Don't forget, you may have the more contemporary one-liner fart joke or the more elloquent long winded poo stories that started this thread


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ONCE YOU'VE HAD ASIAN, YOU WILL NEVER TOUCH CAUCASIAN
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OLD AGE AND TREACHERY WILL ALWAYS OVERCOME YOUTH AND ENTHUSIASM
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post #11 of 13 (permalink) Old 08-02-2007, 12:28 AM
 
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Best...Fucking...Story....Ever
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post #12 of 13 (permalink) Old 08-02-2007, 04:59 AM
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yeah that s some funny shiet Adrian!


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post #13 of 13 (permalink) Old 08-03-2007, 05:53 PM
 
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That was hilarious... and very well written I might add. If there ever was a thesis needed on crapping to get a PHd... this one is worth plagiarizing...
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