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Beauty & Style Defecating oneself

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I'm one of those 'hates to shit in public' people and I'll do whatever I can to avoid it. I finally broke that today when I held it in so much it felt like my intestines were ****ing each other so I went and dropped my pants quicker than I thought possible and unleashed the most liquidy brown water imaginable. It was like the River Ganges down there. Honestly felt like I was pissing out of my rosebud.

And of course, when I got out there just had to be a co-worker awkwardly avoiding eye contact with me but secretly judging my watery anus like I was a hardened criminal. Who puts the toilet in the ****ing lunch room anyway?!

Traumatic.
 
Beerpig said:
The fact that you call your date a "rosebud" is more disturbing than every post in this thread put together.

Date.
Click to expand...
To be fair, Rosebud is a shit hole.
 

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Quivorir said:
To be fair, Rosebud is a shit hole.
Click to expand...

I think the op was refering to pr0n it is the only place i haver ever heard it called a rosebud and fyi it is one of the filthiest things i have seen.
 
gareth36 said:
I think the op was refering to pr0n it is the only place i haver ever heard it called a rosebud and fyi it is one of the filthiest things i have seen.
Click to expand...
Just googled that, thanks for nothing :p
 
Quivorir said:
Just googled that, thanks for nothing :p
Click to expand...

What do you mean thanks for nothing lol

There are dirtier things but i just think it is disgusting

I mean who in there right mind wants to see a woman do that i can watch a hot woman do almost anything but a rosebud is where i draw the line.

Anyway back enough on that lol lets get back on topic and talk more shit.
 
bunsen burner said:
Mate 3

He's a surveyor. He was doing a survey and when you do surveys you usually need access to neighbouring yards. You usually get permision but for whatever reason he was unable to get permission to enter this place. He decides to go in because no one is home. Suddenly he needs to go. Urgently. He's in the back yard of this place and he sees a besa block. He turns it on his side and uses it as a seat. His mid release and he looks up and there's the owner of the property. The owner has no idea who he is and why he's there. He's just come home and some dude is having a shit in his back yard.

My mate explained what was going on so the owner walked back inside and came out with a sandwhich bag. My mate had to walk to his car wit a sandwich bag with his **** in it and then had to go back and remove the besa block (it had shit on the inside)
Click to expand...
One of the best ones yet
:thumbsu:
 
Hey guys back here because after years of no accidents I have managed to shit my pants 3 times in the past 6 months. Nothing special with these stories but though I should share.

First was in Dublin Airport about to board a flight to Prague, had been in Morocco about 2 weeks earlier and being the genius I am I brushed my teeth with the tap water and ate street food all the time, subsequently suffered from a bit of weebum for the whole time I was visiting the grandparents in Ireland. My colon had began to solidify everything fairly well by the end of the 2 weeks so I was feeling fairly safe when I farted as I stood out of my chair at the airport lounge. Then I feel the wet trickle of bum juice roll down my guch and have to rush to the toilet to get the rest out, nice shit stain on white and grey stripped undies, commando for the flight to Prague.

Second was only 2 weeks ago, went to help my old man lift a heavy picnic table outside as I tensed to lift I also pushed a fart out and proceeded to leave a sizable wet log in my shorts as well, had to quickly chuck the undies in the bin and get changed as a mate was picking me up...dad was none the wiser.

Then today I was in the shower and once again farted (this seems to be the common theme of my most recent misfortunes) and instead of air an explosion of diarrhea went out against the wall and floor that I had to mush/wash down the drain...the stink was unbelievable.

This happens way to much for a 23 year old I feel
 
cats81 said:
This happens way to much for a 23 year old I feel
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Maybe you should see a doctor. That kind of stuff doesn't sound normal.
 

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half_back_flank said:
I was running in a marathon and had been training for months and months. With about 5km's left i needed to fart yet it was actually diarrhea and due to my fatigued state, i couldn't stop. Anyway i had trained too hard to give up at that stage and just continued on running.

Heres a photo:

shit.gif
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Geez you would think his partner would think this is a deal breaker.
 
Last night I was at boot camp. I needed to piss badly. About halfway through it started pissing down. We were drenched. I decided to let it go and hoped that noone would spot the difference between the rain and the piss running down my leg.
 
Finally I can add a story to this thread, sort of (and I'm not sure that's a good thing).

Was out driving in the middle of nowhere WA - a good half hour from the nearest town that might possibly have a disgusting roadhouse or public toilet. Start to feel the rumbling in my stomach. Hmm, a little bit concerning. Think about driving straight to the next town at high speed to solve the issue but decide that it's not worth it. That would have involved turning around and driving half an hour back to where I was, as well, as I had shit to do (excuse the pun) on the way.

Handle it for the next 20min OK and think I might be able to hang on. Take a whizz in a bush and all seems ok. gf is sound asleep by this stage and unaware of my dilemma.

Then the rumbling starts to get really urgent. I pull over, about a 10 minute drive straight to the nearest toilet (maybe, I don't know for sure if this 2 horse town even has one that will be open) but can't hang on. Grab some paper towels out of the back, lock the car, and sprint behind a bush. No time to dig a hole or anything like that, I'm gonna blow. Lucky there's a wire fence at the edge of the road reserve so instead of squatting I can sort of lean back/sit on it. I'm a bit worried about splashing shit all over my pants/shoes/self but no need to worry in the end - it comes out like projectile vomit for a good 5-10 seconds. Then it's over. Relieved, I turn around to inspect my handywork - a dinner-plate-sized orangey-brown puddle of gooey poop. By the time I wipe my arse and get my pants back on and belt done up, the flies are devouring it like they haven't eaten for a month.

Get back to the car and the mrs has woken up because it's hot inside the locked up car and wonders where I went...

P.S. Sorry to the poor farmer who might find his this pile of shit in the next few days. At least I don't think I got any on your fence.
 
Bloody hell what's wrong with you people, haven't you heard of "Gastro Stop"? You get them from the chemist & they are cheap, I always carry a pack in case I eat something dodgy. At the first sign of tummy rumbling, if you aren't in close proximity to a toilet, just take a couple & you are fine for hours.
 
mantis said:
Bloody hell what's wrong with you people, haven't you heard of "Gastro Stop"? You get them from the chemist & they are cheap, I always carry a pack in case I eat something dodgy. At the first sign of tummy rumbling, if you aren't in close proximity to a toilet, just take a couple & you are fine for hours.
Click to expand...
**** you're a judgemental wet blanket mantis. Seriously. Shitting on a farmers fence is way cooler than being clogged up with pills. Fcuk....
 

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cats81 said:
I have shat myself/been gross for the laughs before....anyone else done it for a joke?

Probably one of my best nights out at a club involved shitting myself

The club was almost full and I blended with the crowd easily. Deep house blasted out of several large speakers suspended above the dancefloor. It was hot with body heat and the sex was almost tangible.

My first impulse was to pull my dick out, slap it around, maybe give a jerk or two – I refrained. If everyone was a bit more honest that’s what they would do too.

I walked up to the bar and bought a bottle of beer. Its coldness was nice. I relaxed and looked around. The girls looked good dressed in little mini-dresses and too-small T-shirts. But as the saying goes, beauty is only skin deep and under the skin most of these girls were pus-oozing harpies with ***** like bear traps. Out on the dancefloor, the action was hectic. An inner-sanctum of shirtless boys stood their ground squarely in the middle of the dancefloor and pumped their legs up and down to the beat. I noticed also that most of them had pissy little Celtic arm-band tattoos and nipple rings. Sometimes a girl would come pumping up beside one of them and they would both simulate ****ing.

The time seemed right. I finished off my beer and made for the toilets. Inside, two young effeminate boys were snorting lines off the basin table. I marched up to the nearest one and gave him a mighty shove.

“YOU ****ED MY WIFE DIDN’T YOU ****!?” I yelled.

He backed away and his friend wrapped up the speed.

“What?…What-Who are you?” he said.

“YOU ****ED HER UP THE ARSE DIDN’T YA!?”

“No! I don’t even know your wife!”

I punched him in the face and opened up his nose. He fell back.

“Jesus Christ!” his friend said. I right hooked him in the head. He too fell down. Then I walked into a cubicle, locked the door and sat down on the toilet.

Before going into the club, I had had an enormous dinner. Two shepherds pies, four large backed potatoes, a can of beans and several chocolate bars. I reached into my top pocket and pulled out a packet of laxatives. The packet claimed that they were extra strong. I hoped that they were. I stuffed them all in my mouth and made up some spit to swallow them with. Next, I took off all my clothes and lay them on the ground. In my coat pocket I had a 1ml syringe with a capsule of distilled water. In my other pocket was a bent spoon and a small plastic packet with four clearlight trips in it. I popped the four clearlights into the spoon, squirted in 80 lines of water then applied my lighter flame to the bottom of the spoon.

Soon, the clearlights were spinning around as they dissolved. The needle slipped into my arm effortlessly and before I even had time to withdraw it, my head felt like it had imploded.

When I was sure the laxatives had started to take effect, I placed my head on my clothes and did a headstand against the wall. The diahhorea wasn’t long in coming. It started off as small spurts that would trickle down my back, then turned into an obscene brown volcano that shot up and then rained back down over my body. Soon, I was pretty well covered in my own rich brown faeces. I hopped back onto my feet and wiped a little shit on my face like warpaint. Then I opened the door to the cubicle and walked out.

I was surprised that no-one noticed me in the club for a good minute or so. A couple of people were pointing at me as I walked towards a good-looking girl on the dancefloor. She was doing a little dance and I was mesmerized by her which was clad in a tight pair of shorts with no visible panty line – I assumed she was wearing a g-string and the thought of her hairy, sweaty **** grinding away in there almost drove me insane. She didn’t notice me until I stood next to her with a huge shit stained grin on my face.

“DO YOU WANT TO DANCE WITH ME BABY!?” I screamed in her face like an errant Errol Flynn. She stumbled as she ran. I was quickly drawing more attention to myself, yet the pretty-boys in the middle of the dancefloor were still pumping away oblivious to anything but themselves. I pumped up next to them, parodying their slight dance and punctuating it with little spurts of diarrhea. When they finally opened their eyes and realized that the moisture they were getting splattered with wasn’t sweat, they cleared the dancefloor in a flash. Before I knew it, the floor was mine.

The patrons all formed a large berth around the dancefloor and would back off en-mass when I approached. No doubt the ecstasy in their heads would be savagely turning against them as they tried to comprehend my little show. I had an audience, I felt good.

The diarrhea came effortlessly as I squirmed around the floor in a pool of my own wastage. Every once in a while, I would get on my hands, spread open my cheeks and give a mighty thrust. I was genuinely amazed at the distance I could achieve using this method. Unfortunately, most of it would spatter inches from the crowd’s feet. The bouncers were powerless over the situation as I sloshed around trying my darnedest to emulate little Lolita, they didn’t get paid enough to man-handle a shit-smeared maniac. Several people had started to throw up and gave me a magnificent idea. I scooped up some brown slop in my hands and took a drink. The gag reflex kicked in immediately, and before I knew it, I had fountains of waste shooting out of both ends.

As in every audience, there was a heckler in this one. He looked like one to the pretty-boys who had been on the dancefloor and stood screaming abuse at me.

“YOU SICK ****! YOU SICK BASTARD! YOU ****ING MENTAL CASE!”

I threw several handfuls of sick and shit at him in an attempt to quiet him down, but he dodged every time, leaving his neighbors to get splattered. Then I had another great idea. I bent my leg around and with a bit of effort, managed to pop my big toe into my mouth. The flesh was easy to bite through, but the bone took a bit of incisor action until it popped off in my mouth. To be quite honest, it came as a bit of a shock to me when I realized I had my big toe in my mouth. The fountain of blood spurting from the stump quickly brought me back to reality though. I took a deep breath, and with a mighty heave, spat it at the now silent heckler..

Got tasered after all that, but it was a ****ing good night out. The toe was sewed back on too so as they say - alls well that ends well.
Click to expand...

This is the best post ever on BigFooty.

If not possibly the entire Internet.
 
cats81 said:
I have shat myself/been gross for the laughs before....anyone else done it for a joke?

Probably one of my best nights out at a club involved shitting myself

The club was almost full and I blended with the crowd easily. Deep house blasted out of several large speakers suspended above the dancefloor. It was hot with body heat and the sex was almost tangible.

My first impulse was to pull my dick out, slap it around, maybe give a jerk or two – I refrained. If everyone was a bit more honest that’s what they would do too.

I walked up to the bar and bought a bottle of beer. Its coldness was nice. I relaxed and looked around. The girls looked good dressed in little mini-dresses and too-small T-shirts. But as the saying goes, beauty is only skin deep and under the skin most of these girls were pus-oozing harpies with ***** like bear traps. Out on the dancefloor, the action was hectic. An inner-sanctum of shirtless boys stood their ground squarely in the middle of the dancefloor and pumped their legs up and down to the beat. I noticed also that most of them had pissy little Celtic arm-band tattoos and nipple rings. Sometimes a girl would come pumping up beside one of them and they would both simulate ****ing.

The time seemed right. I finished off my beer and made for the toilets. Inside, two young effeminate boys were snorting lines off the basin table. I marched up to the nearest one and gave him a mighty shove.

“YOU ****ED MY WIFE DIDN’T YOU ****!?” I yelled.

He backed away and his friend wrapped up the speed.

“What?…What-Who are you?” he said.

“YOU ****ED HER UP THE ARSE DIDN’T YA!?”

“No! I don’t even know your wife!”

I punched him in the face and opened up his nose. He fell back.

“Jesus Christ!” his friend said. I right hooked him in the head. He too fell down. Then I walked into a cubicle, locked the door and sat down on the toilet.

Before going into the club, I had had an enormous dinner. Two shepherds pies, four large backed potatoes, a can of beans and several chocolate bars. I reached into my top pocket and pulled out a packet of laxatives. The packet claimed that they were extra strong. I hoped that they were. I stuffed them all in my mouth and made up some spit to swallow them with. Next, I took off all my clothes and lay them on the ground. In my coat pocket I had a 1ml syringe with a capsule of distilled water. In my other pocket was a bent spoon and a small plastic packet with four clearlight trips in it. I popped the four clearlights into the spoon, squirted in 80 lines of water then applied my lighter flame to the bottom of the spoon.

Soon, the clearlights were spinning around as they dissolved. The needle slipped into my arm effortlessly and before I even had time to withdraw it, my head felt like it had imploded.

When I was sure the laxatives had started to take effect, I placed my head on my clothes and did a headstand against the wall. The diahhorea wasn’t long in coming. It started off as small spurts that would trickle down my back, then turned into an obscene brown volcano that shot up and then rained back down over my body. Soon, I was pretty well covered in my own rich brown faeces. I hopped back onto my feet and wiped a little shit on my face like warpaint. Then I opened the door to the cubicle and walked out.

I was surprised that no-one noticed me in the club for a good minute or so. A couple of people were pointing at me as I walked towards a good-looking girl on the dancefloor. She was doing a little dance and I was mesmerized by her which was clad in a tight pair of shorts with no visible panty line – I assumed she was wearing a g-string and the thought of her hairy, sweaty **** grinding away in there almost drove me insane. She didn’t notice me until I stood next to her with a huge shit stained grin on my face.

“DO YOU WANT TO DANCE WITH ME BABY!?” I screamed in her face like an errant Errol Flynn. She stumbled as she ran. I was quickly drawing more attention to myself, yet the pretty-boys in the middle of the dancefloor were still pumping away oblivious to anything but themselves. I pumped up next to them, parodying their slight dance and punctuating it with little spurts of diarrhea. When they finally opened their eyes and realized that the moisture they were getting splattered with wasn’t sweat, they cleared the dancefloor in a flash. Before I knew it, the floor was mine.

The patrons all formed a large berth around the dancefloor and would back off en-mass when I approached. No doubt the ecstasy in their heads would be savagely turning against them as they tried to comprehend my little show. I had an audience, I felt good.

The diarrhea came effortlessly as I squirmed around the floor in a pool of my own wastage. Every once in a while, I would get on my hands, spread open my cheeks and give a mighty thrust. I was genuinely amazed at the distance I could achieve using this method. Unfortunately, most of it would spatter inches from the crowd’s feet. The bouncers were powerless over the situation as I sloshed around trying my darnedest to emulate little Lolita, they didn’t get paid enough to man-handle a shit-smeared maniac. Several people had started to throw up and gave me a magnificent idea. I scooped up some brown slop in my hands and took a drink. The gag reflex kicked in immediately, and before I knew it, I had fountains of waste shooting out of both ends.

As in every audience, there was a heckler in this one. He looked like one to the pretty-boys who had been on the dancefloor and stood screaming abuse at me.

“YOU SICK ****! YOU SICK BASTARD! YOU ****ING MENTAL CASE!”

I threw several handfuls of sick and shit at him in an attempt to quiet him down, but he dodged every time, leaving his neighbors to get splattered. Then I had another great idea. I bent my leg around and with a bit of effort, managed to pop my big toe into my mouth. The flesh was easy to bite through, but the bone took a bit of incisor action until it popped off in my mouth. To be quite honest, it came as a bit of a shock to me when I realized I had my big toe in my mouth. The fountain of blood spurting from the stump quickly brought me back to reality though. I took a deep breath, and with a mighty heave, spat it at the now silent heckler..

Got tasered after all that, but it was a ****ing good night out. The toe was sewed back on too so as they say - alls well that ends well.
Click to expand...

One of the best things I've ever read.
 
mantis said:
Bloody hell what's wrong with you people, haven't you heard of "Gastro Stop"? You get them from the chemist & they are cheap, I always carry a pack in case I eat something dodgy. At the first sign of tummy rumbling, if you aren't in close proximity to a toilet, just take a couple & you are fine for hours.
Click to expand...

That's actually no the worst idea I've ever heard if you're travelling in remote areas.
 

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