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Embarrassing poo stories. What's yours?

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When I was little I held my poop in too long. While pooping I realized a massive ball poop had formed inside and couldn't come out my 10 year old butthole. I had to ask my mom for something to break it up since it was stuck. Ended up using a butter knife.
 
I don't have anything that bad, but I've clogged so many toilets and I'm a notorious sharter. Last year my shart total was double digits.
 
This thread calls for the legendary Ryan's Steakhouse story:
http://www.ihos.com/steakhouse.html

Now, I know that there is a lot of embellishment that occurs on this group and I am aware that a small number of things are perhaps sheer fabrication, but I have a story to tell that is the absolute truth. Funniest damn thing that has ever happened to me.

A couple of weeks ago we decided to cruise out to Ryan's Steakhouse for dinner. It was a Wednesday night which means that macaroni and beef was on the hot bar, indeed the only night of the week that it is served. Wednesday night is also kid's night at Ryan's, complete with Dizzy the Clown wandering from table to table entertaining the little bastards. It may seem that the events about to be told have little connection to those two circumstances, but all will be clear in a moment.

We went through the line and placed our orders for the all-you-can-eat hot bar then sat down as far away from the front of the restaurant as possible in order to keep the density of kids down a bit. Then I started my move to the hot bar. Plate after plate of macaroni and beef were consumed that evening, I tell you -- in all, four heaping plates of the pseudo-Italian ambrosia were shoved into my belly. I was sated. Perhaps a bit too much, however.

I had not really been feeling well all day, what with a bit of gas and such. By the time I had eaten four overwhelmed plates of food, I was in real trouble. There was so much pressure on my diaphragm that I was having trouble breathing. At the same time, the downward pressure was building. At first, I thought it was only gas which could have been passed in batches right at the table without to much concern. Unfortunately, that was not to be. After a minute or so it was clear that I was dealing with explosive diarrhea. It's amazing how grease can make its way through your intestines far faster than the food which spawned the grease to begin with, but I digress...

I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom. Upon entering, I saw two sinks immediately inside the door, two urinals just to the right of the sinks, and two toilet stalls against the back wall. One of them was a handicapped bathroom. Now, normally I would have gone to the handicapped stall since I like to stretch out a bit when I take a good shit, but in this case, the door lock was broken and the only thing I hate worse than my wife telling me to stop cutting my toenails with a pair of diagonal wire cutters is having someone walk in on me while I am taking a shit. I went to the normal stall.

In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the large, handicapped stall even though the door would not lock because that bit of time lost in making the stall switch proved to be a bit too long under the circumstances. By the time I had walked into the regular stall, the pressure on my ass was reaching Biblical proportions.

I began "The Move."

For those women who may be reading this, let me take a moment to explain "The Move." Men know exactly what their bowels are up to at any given second. And when the time comes to empty the cache, a sequence of physiological events occur that can not be stopped under any circumstances. There is a move men make that involves simultaneously approaching the toilet, beginning the body turn to position ones ass toward said toilet, hooking ones fingers into ones waistline, and pulling down the pants while beginning the squat at the same time. It is a very fluid motion that, when performed properly, results in the flawless expulsion of shit at the exact same second that ones ass is properly placed on the toilet seat. Done properly, it even assures that the choad is properly inserted into the front rim of the toilet in the event that the piss stream lets loose at the same time; it is truly a picture of coordination rivaling that of a skilled ballet dancer.

I was about half-way into "The Move" when I looked down at the floor and saw a pile of vomit that had been previously expelled by one of those little bastards attending kids night; it was mounded up in the corner so I did not notice it when I had first walked into the stall. Normally, I would not have been bothered by such a thing, but I had eaten so much and the pressure upward was so intense, that I hit a rarely experienced gag reflex. And once that reflex started, combined with the intense pressure upward caused by the bloated stomach, four plates of macaroni and beef started coming up for a rematch. What happened next was so quick that the exact sequence of events are a bit fuzzy, but I will try to reconstruct them as best I can.

In that moment of impending projectile vomiting, my attention was diverted from the goings-on at the other end. To put a freeze frame on the situation, I was half crotched down to the toilet, pants pulled down to my knees, with a load of vomit coming up my esophagus. Now, most of you know that vomiting takes precedence over shit no matter what is about to come slamming out of your ass. It is apparently an evolutionary thing since shitting will not kill you, but vomiting takes a presence of mind to accomplish so that you do not aspirate any food into the bronchial tubes and perhaps choke to death. My attention was thus diverted.

At that very split second, my ass exploded in what can only be described as a wake...you know, as in a newspaper headline along the lines of "30,000 Killed In Wake of Typhoon Fifi" or something similar. In what seemed to be most suitably measured in cubic feet, an enormous plug of shit the consistency of thick mud with embedded pockets of greasy liquid came flying out of my ass. But remember, I was only half-way down on the toilet at that moment. The shit wave was of such force and of just such an angle in relation to the back curve of the toilet seat that it ricocheted off the back of the seat and slammed into the wall at an angle of incidence equal to the angle at which it initially hit the toilet seat. Then I sat down.

Recall that when that event occurred, I was already half-way to sitting anyway and had actually reached the point of no return. I have always considered myself as relatively stable gravitationally, but when you get beyond a certain point, you're going down no matter how limber you may be. Needless to say, the shit wave, though of considerable force, was not so sufficient so as to completely glance off the toilet seat and deposit itself on the walls, like what you would see when hitting a puddle with a high-pressure water hose; even though you throw water at the puddle, the puddle gets moved and no water is left to re-form a puddle. There was a significant amount of shit remaining on about one-third of the seat rim which I had now just collapsed upon.

Now, back to the vomit...

While all the shitting was going on, the vomit was still on its way up. By the time I had actually collapsed on the toilet, my mouth had filled up with a goodly portion of the macaroni and beef I had just consumed. OK, so what does the human body instinctively do when vomiting? One bends over. So I bent over. I was still sitting on the toilet, though. Therefore, bending over resulted in me placing my head above my now slightly-opened legs, positioned in between my knees and waist. Also directly above my pants which were now pulled down to a point just midway between my knees and my ankles. Oh, did I mention that I was wearing not just pants, but sweat pants with elastic on the ankles.

In one mighty push, some three pounds of macaroni and beef, two or three Cokes, and a couple of Big, Fat Yeast Rolls were deposited in my pants...on the inside...with no ready exit at the bottom down by my feet.

In the next several seconds, there were a handful of farts, a couple of turds, and the event ended, yet I was now sitting there with my pants full of vomit, my back covered in shit that had bounced off the toilet, spattered on three ceramic-tiled walls to a height of about five feet, and still had enough force to come back at me, covering the back of my shirt with droplets of liquid shit. All while thick shit was spread all over my ass in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat.

And there was no fucking toilet paper.

What could I do but laugh. I must have sounded like a complete maniac to the guy who then wandered into the bathroom. He actually asked if I was OK since I was laughing so hard I must have sounded like I was crying hysterically. I calmed down just enough to ask him if he would get the manager. And told him to have the manager bring some toilet paper. When the manager walked in, he brought the toilet paper with him, but in no way was prepared for what happened next. I simply told him that there was no way I was going to explain what was happening in the stall, but that I needed several wet towels and I needed him to go ask my wife to come help me. I told him where we were sitting and he left. At that point, I think he was probably assuming that I had pissed just a bit in my pants or something similarly benign.

About two minutes later, my wife came into the bathroom not knowing what was wrong and with a certain amount of worry in her voice. I explained to her (still laughing and having trouble getting out words) that I had a slight accident and needed her help. Knowing that I had experienced some close calls in the past, she probably assumed that I had laid down a small turd or something and just needed to bring the car around so we could bolt immediately. Until I asked her, I'm sure she had no idea that she was about to go across the street and purchase me new underwear, new socks, new pants, a new shirt, and (by that time due to considerable leakage around the elastic ankles thingies) new sneakers. And she then started to laugh herself since I was still laughing. She began to ask for an explanation as to what had happened when I promised her that I would tell her later, but that I just needed to handle damage control for the time being. She left.

The manager then came back in with a half-dozen wet towels and a few dry ones. I asked him to also bring a mop and bucket upon which he assured me that they would clean up anything that needed to be cleaned. Without giving him specific details, I explained that what was going on in that stall that night was far in excess of what I would expect anyone to deal with, what with most of the folks working at Ryan's making minimum wage of just slightly above. At that moment, I think it dawned on him exactly the gravity of the situation. Then that manager went so far above the call of duty that I will be eternally grateful for his actions. He hooked up a hose.

Fortunately, commercial bathrooms are constructed with tile walls and tile floors and have a drain in the middle of the room in order to make clean up easy. Fortunately, I was in a commercial bathroom. He hooked up the hose to the spigot located under the sink as I began cleaning myself up with the wet towels. Just as I was finishing, my wife got back with the new clothes and passed them into the stall, whereupon I stuffed the previously worn clothing into the plastic bag that came from the store, handing the bag to my wife. I finished cleaning myself off and carefully put on my new clothes, still stuck in the stall since I figured that it would be in bad taste to go out of the stall to get redressed in the event I happened to be standing there naked and some little bastard kid walked in. At that point, I had only made a mess; I had not yet committed a felony and intended to keep it that way.

When I finished getting dressed, I picked up the hose and cleaned up the entire stall, washing down the remains toward the drain in the center of the room. I put down the hose and walked out of the bathroom. I had intended to go to the manager and thank him for all he had done, but when I walked out, three of the management staff were there to greet me with a standing ovation. I started laughing so hard that I thought I was going to throw up again, but managed to scurry out to the car where my wife was now waiting to pick me up by the front door.

The upshot of all this is that I strongly recommend eating dinner at Ryan's Steak House. They have, by far, the nicest management staff of any restaurant in which I have eaten.

Steve Crisp
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I've shit my pants before but not in public as far as I can remember. The worst for me was when I stopped my sisters toilet up when I was staying at their place. Plunger didn't work despite my best efforts. They had to call a plumber to unclog it. Fucking hell I never want that to happen again
 
In college, woke up one morning with bubbly hot hangover shits. I got out of bed in a hurry to go make mud and I was sittin there on the pot, still spinning from all the drank the night before and feeling like I was going to puke from my terrible stank. I knew it was coming and horribly realized that when I puked violently in a minute, I would also blast shit out of my ass due to the sheer force of it. I made a quick decision to pick up the trash can we had in there that had a plastic grocry bag liner that would be my best bet for not making a huge puke mess on the floor. I pulled the can up towards me, about ready the go, and there sitting on top was a used condom only inches from my sweaty face. It then dawned on me that my roommate had brought a girl home last night, fucked her and left his sick juicy cummy condom piled at the top of the trash heap where everyone could see it. As the smell of stale vagina and semen wafted up deep into my nostrils, I vomited immediately both inside the trash can on top of his motherfucking condom as well as over the edge of the trash can all over the inside of the shorts around my ankles. It was a damn mess.
 
Aku-Audi said:
Oh man, my whole life has been filled with foul tales of feces, but non a fouler than this one.
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I was almost relieved when this beautiful story came to an end, as my abdomen was beginning to cramp from all the laughter. Amazing.
 
Was on a business/diplomacy mission to the capital of a Middle European country. Business lunches turned to dinners, dinners turned to walking around the old town, clubbing and drinking in bars.

In a bar called Luger I was suddenly hit (most likely caused by some tequila shots) by the most painful explosive diarrhea ever. Went to the local restroom that looked like a first world war trench. Tried to keep my business suit as clean as possible, while awkwardly projectile defecating into the world's smelliest toilet. Repeated the same thing at a tequila bar later on. I was so dehydrated, I nearly passed out from a caffeine fix the next morning.

Took the suit to a dry cleaners, then donated it to goodwill. Never again.
 
SkepticalPanda said:
Was at a restaurant and needed to take a shit. Both bathrooms in said restaurant were occupied so my parents employed the pay-the-bill-and-rush-home tactic. To avoid any accidents on the way, they threw me into the boot (trunk) of the family car and we sped off. Halfway home we hit a nasty bump and I couldn't hold it. I shat all over the boot of the car, into my hands and everywhere else. So I get home, try to get out of the boot and as soon as my legs extend, I shit everywhere again. They ended up leaving my outside to shit my brains out, occasionally bringing me water and some meds. That night sucked BAD.
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WTF? Are you a dog?
 
SkepticalPanda said:
Was at a restaurant and needed to take a shit. Both bathrooms in said restaurant were occupied so my parents employed the pay-the-bill-and-rush-home tactic. To avoid any accidents on the way, they threw me into the boot (trunk) of the family car and we sped off. Halfway home we hit a nasty bump and I couldn't hold it. I shat all over the boot of the car, into my hands and everywhere else. So I get home, try to get out of the boot and as soon as my legs extend, I shit everywhere again. They ended up leaving my outside to shit my brains out, occasionally bringing me water and some meds. That night sucked BAD.
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Oh my god, this post had me in tears.

Sorry man, but when I picture you shitting in that trunk I can't take it, haha.
 
About a week ago, I decided to get pretty drunk and went out at 3AM for a walk when I noticed that my roommate had a few friends stay over for a night in the living room. That morning, they all took showers (all women) and between the 4 of them, I had to pace around my room for 1.5 hours holding in a huge morning-hangover-shit. The worst part is, I thought it would be better if I could try to empty my bladder first so I half filled a beer bottle while in my room. That just made my asshole madder and I had to put the bottle down in the trash and then sit on my ass rocking back and forth until I heard the bathroom door open and then I just kept a stiff upper lip and walked in there like I was just going to take a shower.

That shit was amazing.
 
My parents just moved out of the bronx to live on long island and we needed to go buy appliances for the house that they just brought. Refrigerators, ovens etc etc. I decided to go with them including my brother. So my parents decided to go to P.C richard and shop around inside. First time my parents ever shop for stuff like this so they was pretty excited. We was there for a long ass time as they talked to associates that worked there about prices and sales that they were having. They was just making sure to see what will be best for the house and to make sure the appliances will last a long time so they asked a million different questions.

The pain in my stomach started to kick in when they started signing the papers for the items that they were buying. I can remember going to mom and telling her that my stomach was hurting and needed to go home to go the bathroom. As a young child to this day I hate taking a deuce in public bathrooms. Seen to many disturbing shit as kid growing up that I mentally decided to never use public bathrooms ever again when it came to doing the number 2.

I was sitting down for an hour so to calm my stomach a bit until my parents finished. It just made it worse to the point i could not hold it anymore. I really didn't want to shit on myself in public so I decided to that I needed/had to break my public bathroom taboo. I sped walk to the bathroom as fast i can only to see that the mens bathroom can only be occupied one at a time and someone was in it. Me clinching my buttocks for hours put a strain on my 12 year old body muscles when I walked to the bathroom. I only had a couple of seconds at this point.

The door finally opens and I just run past the man still trying to exit out the bathroom door to leave. I closed and locked the door quickly behind me. I get to the toilet and position myself to the seat to squat over it so my ass won't touch it. At this point my stomach can't hold it anymore. I started to pull my pants down with my underwear in one smooth motion. But for some reason my thumbs did not fully grab my underwears as I pulled it down with my pants. Leaving my underwears a little bit over my knees as I started going to the bathroom.

I shitted on myself in the squating position. My mind could not comprehend what just happen as I looked down at my brief underwears holding everything that just came out. It look as if someone just took two jars of hot skippy peanut butter and just poured it in. I think I frozed for atleast a minute or so trying to figure out what to do. The only thing that snapped me out of it was someone knocking on the door waiting to go to the bathroom. At this point, time was against me and really needed to hurry up before line builds up. I remove my shoes and socks first then my pants while still holding my underwear with the shit inside with the squating position. I remove my underwear slowly making sure nothing comes out. I threw it away in a small open bathroom garbage can they hand next to the sink. I clean my self up with the paper towels they had with some hot water and soap. put my socks and pants back on and prepared myself to walk out of the bathroom.

I open the door and gave no eye contact to any of men waiting in line for the bathroom. I quickly ran to my mom to see if they was done with the paper work since it was getting really late and I just wanted to get the hell out of the building after what just happen. They was basically finished when I was in the bathroom and they was about start looking for me as I came out of the bathroom. Since my parents were so happy in buying a new refrigerator and oven, they wanted to celebrate and go to the movies that night and asked me and brother if I wanted to go. I said yes, forgeting to even go home and take a shower after what just happen. I act like nothing even happen as we left out of p.c richard.

We went to go see Star Wars Episode 1.
 
zomgbbqftw said:
69 with my (current) girlfriend. She came, relaxed her anal sphincter, you can guess what happened next. :(
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goinginkpl4w.gif
 
When I visited the Washington Monument, I started to get cramps (you know the kind, where it feels like someone shoved a stake up your ass). Problem was, it was nearing our groups turn to go up. I tried to contain it for a while but I instead looked like I had gotten shocked with a taser. So I had to hike back down the hill with the spasms and then use the smelly ass restroom. I was sorta levitating over it because of how dirty it was.
 
Stuck my finger up my gf's ass once, felt a lingering turd.

Had to finger my own ass to scoop out bits of turd due to extreme constipation caused by drugs.
 
I'm in San Francisco right now, celebrating my 10 year anniversary with my girlfriend. We had some amazing pizza last night, but man, it did a number on my stomach. So we hustle back to the hotel, and I unload on the can. I flush before I wipe because I knew that bowl was filled to the brim with just hellish shit, and it clogged. Now, sometimes if you clog a toilet you can just flush it another couple times and it kinda fixes itself. So I wipe - thoroughly - and flush again.

No dice.

Again.

No dice.

After another three flushes, we go down to the front desk requesting a plunger. A little Asian woman comes up with us, looks at the toilet, says, "Oh no," and makes like a tree. Finally after what seemed like nine hours (but was probably only 3 minutes) some dude comes back with a plunger and a smirk. He's fixing the mess I created, and I just lose it. I start laughing uncontrollably at the situation I've put myself in. He was cool about it though, came out and said "all fixed" and left.

Moral of the story: Hotel toilets are small. Flush often.
 
Was partying with friends. I'm pretty hammered and call a cab. Few minutes after sitting in the cab, my stomach starts to twist and turn. I feel the shit is about to happen. The whole cab drive I think "please don't let me shit in this cab" (the cab driver was sort of a family friend)... 15-20 min later the cab arrives at my place and I'm literally covered in sweat because I tried to hold it in the whole way. I pay the driver and start fast walking to my apartment. I go up the elevator and finally open my door. I get in and the first thing I think "fuck I did it, I made it".

But nope. The next thing I remember is waking up at that exact spot with my pants covered in crap. I had passed out right there and crapped myself in my sleep.
 
I didn't wipe enough in 7th grade, shit crumbs fell out of my pant leg in the school hallway. I guess it would be more embarrassing if someone saw but still.
 
It was late night, and i managed to catch a train home, this was 1 hour and 40 min ride that felt like it lasted several ages, because i had to keep the shit inside til i got to my station, no bathroom on the train. I must have looked like a shaman sitting there and trying to keep it all in, i could easily feel my forehead getting sweaty. Pretty soon i was sitting on the floor, because the train seats were not hard enough to keep the crap back.

The last 20 minutes some dudes came in the same coupon or whatever you call the thing in the train, they looked like...you know..thugs, or wannabe thugs. I actually sat there and started laughing because i thought to myself, if they try to mug me or beat me up ill just shit all over myself and them. Nothing like that happened, they just saw this sweaty, smiley person shaking on the floor, probably saved my life.

Finally i arrived and ran to the bathroom, locked, it was late night, fuck it, i run around the kiosk and took the crap on the asphalt, there was no way in hell i could hold it back, i suffered long enough, however it did not look like a human crap, you know a brown sausage/brown snake, but rather it looked like a mountain. If you took a camera and got the right perspective it would look like the mountains in Mordor.

Because it was winter, steam came out of the crap, because of the cold weather, wiped myeslf with some newspapers and as i took the first step to leave some people walked by 1 guy and 2 girls, the guy side "sådan da!" which means "there you go" in danish, i had no idea what to say as i just wanted to get out of there and just said "yeah" and for some reason gave him a thumbs up.
 
Ate some late-night taco bell with my cousins a few years ago. It was like 1am and we had 2 hours to go before we made it back home. Then all of a sudden somebody farted, we started laughing. Then someone else did it. Laughed again. Then I farted and I was like lol wtf is going on? Everyone started farting like crazy and we realized it was the taco bell. An hour later we were like hurry the fuck up I'm gonna shit my pants!! Every time we farted we feared that liquid shit would shoot out. Long story short I made it home and rushed to the toilet. Hot lava shit shout out my ass. Steam came out the damn bowl. Think that shitting scene from dumb and dumber.
 
We were remodeling our store last August and had to work out of a poorly ventilated trailer, which meant dealing with 90 degree heat for six-eight hours straight. That coupled with the Fiery Chicken Wings of Doom I had consumed the night before left me feeling a bit off, but seemingly okay.

After clocking out and heading to my car, I decided to finally let one rip that I had been gracefully protecting my coworkers from. Along with the fart came some chunky manner. I gasped, ran into the store and down into the basement past some builders, hid behind some equipment and scraped out the inside of my pants with some conveniently placed paper towels. Not the worst poo story in the thread, but a first for me. Absolutely mortifying.
 
i shat my pants in preschool. i didn't even know how to wipe either, very embarrassing at the time :(

one time when i was like 10 or 11 i farted and a piece of shit came out, and slid out of my underwear/shorts on to the floor in the living room. my mom laughed so hard and i just ran away crying
 
Disclaimer: I do not liking using the bathroom at other peoples places to take a shit. I will pee but not shit.

Anyway, I went out with a friend. Came back to her place and I just could not hold it. Asked if I could use her bathroom saying I had to pee but actually I planned to take the quickest shit possible. I did just that and to my horror I then realized there was a like scrap of tissue left on the reel. I resorted to wiping my ass with my hand rather than call her to ask if she had tissue.

Now, I almost NEVER leave home without a few firmly folded paper towel in my pocket.
 
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