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Beauty & Style Defecating oneself

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When I was in year 6, I went to the sick bay with gastro. My parents were unavailable to pick me up so I basically had to stay in the sick bay all day. Then the uncontrollable urge reared it's ugly head and I proceeded to fill my pants with mammoth proportions of poop. I panicked and went to the toilet and didn't know what to do so I took my pants off and went to throw them in the bin but there was none. So I kinda held my shitty pants in one of my pant legs and walked passed the staff and into the bay. I still couldn't see anywhere so threw them under the bed.

Then, a female classmate appeared also feeling ill. We spoke for a bit and then she started to sniff. The fear crept over me and she said remarked "Can you smell poo? I can smell it?" I just said there was a kid in here earlier with the shits but I couldn't really smell anything. I knew she didn't believe me. She's now a lesbian. Probs my bad.
 
I remember on the very first day of high school, a bloke who was, well, socially inept as it was, was in PE class and was apparently too scared to ask the teacher if he could leave class to answer nature's call. Consequently, he defecated himself not long after. Just a horrific way to start high school. I didn't see this with my own eyes, it happened in another class. The news of it just spread like wildfire, as you can imagine.

I did, however, see an incident on school camp the following year. We were all in the mess hall, and just as I happened to be looking at no one in particular on the other side of the room, one of the guys sitting on the other side made the unmistakable motion of lifting buttocks off seat to let one rip. A fart followed but was then immediately followed by the sight of his hands flying to his buttocks.

And that was followed by the poor kid climbing to his feet in a horrified flap, and bolting out of the room with rare speed. He then turned down the hallway in the direction of the toilets.

Much laughter ensued.
 

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Never really shared the story of how I lost my v-plates with anyone so here goes GD.

Ok, well when I was 17 my girlfriend at the time was finally ready to have sex. I, as one might expect of a 17 year old, was very excited. Neither hell nor high water was going to stand between me and my final destination.

I got ready for the night, trim my pubes and shower extra well. Unfortunately there was also an issue which I still have to this day. I have a digestive disorder that sometimes causes my shit to become large and quite solid whilst still inside me. At the time, I wasn't aware it was treatable and just thought everyone had to deal with the equivalent of anal kidney stones. So anyway I bring this up because that day I was brewing a mighty log which had been loaded into the gun for several days.

Let me set the scene. My girlfriend's parents are away so we have her house to ourselves. She was always a little kinky so she demands we do it on her parents bed.

I walked into a damn candle holocaust. She's been working on this all day apparently, and its as bright as high noon in there with the lights off. She proceeds to do a sweet, sexy little dance for me. At 16, she was AMAZING. Then again, she was a Britney Spears fan and always watched her music videos. For those of you who never experienced a female at that age, I pity the fool.

Now I'm sitting on the bed, watching this dance. I smile and think about how good she looks but unfortunately, a lot of my attention is focused on the dull throbbing in my sphincter and the large amount of intestinal discomfort associated with not dropping duce in days. Somehow though I still get hard and we go to town.

She starts out on top, then we switch. I bent her over the bed, and I even smacked her ass hard (I consider this a ballsy move for your first time, but she actually seemed to love it). Due to my built up 'distraction', I last for what seemed like forever. She couldn't stop moaning and telling me how good it felt even though she was in some pain, and then she says what every man loves to hear - "I want you to go in my mouth".

So she goes down on me. She was always average at best in this department but at least she tried. She then takes my dick out of her mouth for long enough to look up at me and say "tell me if you like this". Then I feel it.

She stuck her finger up my ass.

My brain hits the panic switch and every muscle in my entire body locks up tighter than a three year old virgin. But its too late.

I take a massive, PAINFUL, PAINFUL shit, all over her parents comforter.

No. You don't understand. I mean large. Huge. IMMENSE. Take the largest shit you've ever done and multiply that by 42 and you might have an idea of what flew out of me.

And gents, when I say flew, I don't mean your regular dump. I mean projectile. I mean "hurricane force winds hitting an umbrella stand". And due to my condition, it comes out as a large, dark brown, rotten harpoon.

I know some of it hit her even though I didn't see it. She ran out screaming "OH MY GOD OHMYGODOHMYGODEEEEEWWWWWWWW" I always imagined that, due to her position, it hit her right in the chin. Or at least the ****.

I would like to say that I got up to go after her but she was too quick. I heard the bathroom door shut so I just stood there frozen in shock. Then the smell hit me after a few seconds. It smelled like someone rolled a cat in shit and threw it into a tire fire. I looked down and saw, to date, the largest bowel movement I've ever done laying on the bed. Then I noticed the blood, and when I did, I noticed the pain.

Apparently the fact that it was so large caused it to rip my anal walls a little bit and thus bleed (I thought I was bleeding from the inside but the doctor's trip the next day is what taught me of my actual condition in the first place).

There was a small pool of blood where my ass had been near the bed. A final reminder of the exact place and moment I lost my virginity. I will treasure this memory for all my days.

I had to try to fix the situation so without giving a ****, I grabbed my shit with both hands and go to her downstairs bathroom. I throw around a third into the toilet and flush, fearing any more will clog it and only add to my already significant woes.

I go back to the bedroom and I'm just standing there in disbelief, holding the remaining two thirds of my biggest shit of all time, before feeling a trickle of blood flow down my leg, whilst trying to ignore the sharp stabbing pain in my rectum. I find myself wishing I had a photo of this to take to a psychologist.

Anyway, I finish flushing my baby, clean off my hands, jam toilet paper between my cheeks for the blood (I skipped the bandaid as it was too small) and went upstairs. I could hear my girlfriend sobbing from behind the bathroom door. I decided not to say anything to her and just keep moving. The smell in her parents room was abysmal. Its like when you take a shit and walk out of the bathroom and think "hey not so bad today", but then you walk back in to grab your magazine and go "****!!!". It was one of those moments.

The scene is burned behind my eyelids for eternity. My life. My shame. My very first time smelled like a pile of dead babies. I quickly got dressed since the heat from ten thousand candles was making the room feel more like a port-a-potty. I was aware enough to grab the comforter on my way out and drag it downstairs to their washer. Also the top and bottom sheets since the blood had leaked through all the way to the mattress. Still no sign of my girlfriend but at this point I considered it a blessing that she still wasn't there.

I jammed the sheets in the washer with 3 loads worth of detergent and set it on spin, knowing that not even the hand of God would save these linens, let alone Omo.

Then I left. I avoided my girlfriend's calls for days until we arranged for her to come to my house. We had a long talk about what happened. Talk being synonymous with "breaking up with me because I had shat on her". And it was all over. We had broken up. She promised not to tell a soul and I don't think she ever did. She was probably as ashamed as I was about the whole deed. The moment she lost her virginity was also the first time she got hit by a stray. But for me, I will always remember this as the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened in my life.

so yeah, tl;dr

This is one of the best things I have read on BigFooty.

I actually cried.
 
This was a couple months ago now but here is the story.

It was the end of a 7 week trip around the USA. I had been pretty crook for the last week or so of this trip but only with a really bad sore throat, tonsillitis perhaps but I never went to the doctor. It was the final day of the trip and I woke up in a daze greeted by the alarm I had set the night before so as to not miss the check out time and avoid paying a fee and also so the flight back home. I arose from my slumber and climbed into the shower of the dorm room, at this stage everything was as normal. I was feeling fresh from my wash and I stepped out of the shower, grabbed my towel and felt the oncoming need to expel a fart. As the impeding gas was just mere milliseconds from release, it turns from gas to liquid. I had just enough time to clench and sit on the toilet that was close by before an almighty explosion was expelled.

It came out of nowhere as I wasn't feeling the shits at all until this very second and it was the only bowel movement I had for the day but it had me on edge for the following 24 hours in transit back home.
 
It's happened to me, once.

It was just before my last year 12 exam, for my worst subject; geography. Now I'm generally pretty good at studying, but this, it just wouldn't go in at all. I had to get about 70% to pass the subject so it's fair to say I was shitting myself (metaphorically, for now). I didn't want to fail so I started trying to study at every waking moment for about 3 days, I started drinking Red Bull so I wouldn't get tired, and I was drinking about 8 a day, anyway come the day of the exam, I felt like I'd remembered nothing at all, and I wasn't confident at all. The energy drinks also had my guts in a pretty bad way.

As we went into the exam hall, which was in the gym, I noticed my most hated teacher - who also happened to be the principal was the supervisor. We all sat down and after about 15 minutes I noticed I really needed to shit. I was allowed to go to the toilet where I dropped off a load and went and sat back down. About half an hour later the urge hit me, harder, about 10 times harder. I tightened my sphincter and shot my hand up, now asking to go to the toilet too often is embarrassing enough as it is, but this time, I guess he presumed I was cheating, the principal said no. I said "but Sir..." and then felt it, a giant fart, echoed around the gym, and then I felt the big, warm, squishy mess in my pants. The whole class realised what had happened, I made the walk of shame up the aisle between the desks and into the toilet. The nurse gave me a clean uniform and a clear bag to put my soiled clothes in.

Having completely given up on the exam, I sat outside the room and waited for my 3 best mates to come out. When they did we headed to the pub, I figured that nothing could restore my reputation, we headed to the pub down the end of the street, with my clear bag full of shit and school uniform in hand, in full sight of the 100 or so other year 12s celebrating their last exam. Yeah, that was pretty dreadful. Didn't pass the exam either.
 
It's happened to me, once.

It was just before my last year 12 exam, for my worst subject; geography. Now I'm generally pretty good at studying, but this, it just wouldn't go in at all. I had to get about 70% to pass the subject so it's fair to say I was shitting myself (metaphorically, for now). I didn't want to fail so I started trying to study at every waking moment for about 3 days, I started drinking Red Bull so I wouldn't get tired, and I was drinking about 8 a day, anyway come the day of the exam, I felt like I'd remembered nothing at all, and I wasn't confident at all. The energy drinks also had my guts in a pretty bad way.

As we went into the exam hall, which was in the gym, I noticed my most hated teacher - who also happened to be the principal was the supervisor. We all sat down and after about 15 minutes I noticed I really needed to shit. I was allowed to go to the toilet where I dropped off a load and went and sat back down. About half an hour later the urge hit me, harder, about 10 times harder. I tightened my sphincter and shot my hand up, now asking to go to the toilet too often is embarrassing enough as it is, but this time, I guess he presumed I was cheating, the principal said no. I said "but Sir..." and then felt it, a giant fart, echoed around the gym, and then I felt the big, warm, squishy mess in my pants. The whole class realised what had happened, I made the walk of shame up the aisle between the desks and into the toilet. The nurse gave me a clean uniform and a clear bag to put my soiled clothes in.

Having completely given up on the exam, I sat outside the room and waited for my 3 best mates to come out. When they did we headed to the pub, I figured that nothing could restore my reputation, we headed to the pub down the end of the street, with my clear bag full of shit and school uniform in hand, in full sight of the 100 or so other year 12s celebrating their last exam. Yeah, that was pretty dreadful. Didn't pass the exam either.

heres-what-one-bitter-lawyer-learned-from-bombing-the-bar-exam.jpg
 
Have only excreted waste upon myself once (since I was a baby).

See, I have a massive fear of flying. 1 day out from a long-haul flight to London, I was trying to calm my nerves by watching TV. Clarke/Smith were belting India around at Adelaide oval in the first test after Hughesy passed :(.

I'd recently been experiencing a large amount of gastric distress, brought on by my anxiety about the upcoming journey. I felt some wind coming on, and decided to gently push a silent fart out. Instead, I felt an unusually wet & warm sensation in the back of my pants. Fearing the worst, I headed to the bathroom, and literally (not figuratively) LITERALLY vomited in a projectile fashion.... the smell was that bad. Shocking, shocking scenes they were. I threw everything that I was wearing in the garbage bin, then proceeded to have a 1 hour-long shower.

The trip to Heathrow was a terrible experience. 16 sleepless hours to Dubai, spending 45 minutes of the 90 minute stopover navigating through the 3 massive terminals in search of the departure gate for DXB-LHR, then being squashed in between two BO-ridden French people for 8 hours on the second leg. All this, while experiencing the unpleasantness of an extremely nervy stomach, zero appetite, fighting the urge to vomit, and trying to deal with annoyingly attentive Emirates flight attendants. From the moment I shat myself to when I checked in at my hotel in Kensington, I'd had nothing - bar a single banana, 6 Immodium tablets and a approx. 4 litres of water.

The most uncomfortable few days of my life, they were... I've since appreciated the feeling of a calm stomach, hard stool and positive mindfulness.

tl;dr Basically, suffering the dreaded symptoms of Gastro on a long-haul flight is essentially torture.
 
Have only excreted waste upon myself once (since I was a baby).

See, I have a massive fear of flying. 1 day out from a long-haul flight to London, I was trying to calm my nerves by watching TV. Clarke/Smith were belting India around at Adelaide oval in the first test after Hughesy passed :(.

I'd recently been experiencing a large amount of gastric distress, brought on by my anxiety about the upcoming journey. I felt some wind coming on, and decided to gently push a silent fart out. Instead, I felt an unusually wet & warm sensation in the back of my pants. Fearing the worst, I headed to the bathroom, and literally (not figuratively) LITERALLY vomited in a projectile fashion.... the smell was that bad. Shocking, shocking scenes they were. I threw everything that I was wearing in the garbage bin, then proceeded to have a 1 hour-long shower.

The trip to Heathrow was a terrible experience. 16 sleepless hours to Dubai, spending 45 minutes of the 90 minute stopover navigating through the 3 massive terminals in search of the departure gate for DXB-LHR, then being squashed in between two BO-ridden French people for 8 hours on the second leg. All this, while experiencing the unpleasantness of an extremely nervy stomach, zero appetite, fighting the urge to vomit, and trying to deal with annoyingly attentive Emirates flight attendants. From the moment I shat myself to when I checked in at my hotel in Kensington, I'd had nothing - bar a single banana, 6 Immodium tablets and a approx. 4 litres of water.

The most uncomfortable few days of my life, they were... I've since appreciated the feeling of a calm stomach, hard stool and positive mindfulness.

tl;dr Basically, suffering the dreaded symptoms of Gastro on a long-haul flight is essentially torture.

Was the trip good tho
 

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It's happened to me, once.

It was just before my last year 12 exam, for my worst subject; geography. Now I'm generally pretty good at studying, but this, it just wouldn't go in at all. I had to get about 70% to pass the subject so it's fair to say I was shitting myself (metaphorically, for now). I didn't want to fail so I started trying to study at every waking moment for about 3 days, I started drinking Red Bull so I wouldn't get tired, and I was drinking about 8 a day, anyway come the day of the exam, I felt like I'd remembered nothing at all, and I wasn't confident at all. The energy drinks also had my guts in a pretty bad way.

As we went into the exam hall, which was in the gym, I noticed my most hated teacher - who also happened to be the principal was the supervisor. We all sat down and after about 15 minutes I noticed I really needed to shit. I was allowed to go to the toilet where I dropped off a load and went and sat back down. About half an hour later the urge hit me, harder, about 10 times harder. I tightened my sphincter and shot my hand up, now asking to go to the toilet too often is embarrassing enough as it is, but this time, I guess he presumed I was cheating, the principal said no. I said "but Sir..." and then felt it, a giant fart, echoed around the gym, and then I felt the big, warm, squishy mess in my pants. The whole class realised what had happened, I made the walk of shame up the aisle between the desks and into the toilet. The nurse gave me a clean uniform and a clear bag to put my soiled clothes in.

Having completely given up on the exam, I sat outside the room and waited for my 3 best mates to come out. When they did we headed to the pub, I figured that nothing could restore my reputation, we headed to the pub down the end of the street, with my clear bag full of shit and school uniform in hand, in full sight of the 100 or so other year 12s celebrating their last exam. Yeah, that was pretty dreadful. Didn't pass the exam either.
Think you need to post this on r\tifu
 
Ok ok I've got one. Well a near miss anyway. It was a couple of years ago. A friend and i took our respective offspring to a steakhouse one night.I ordered the chicken with a very generous helping of rich creamy garlic sauce. That was my first mistake. Anyhoo all was going well until about an hour later when i started feeling a bit quesy.....We cruise back to my friends and lets just say i make very good friends with her toilet. Anyway its getting late and i decide to drive home. I was sure i could make it. I thought wrong. I was nearing the end of my journey and decided nope not gunna make it. Im frantically driving along a city street no fast joints in sight and the situation is getting more and more desperate. I spy a carpark and nearly career in. At the last second i spy two cop cars. Screw it. I could have cried. Offspring in the back thinks it's hilarious. Up the road i spy another car park for a soccer oval. Coming in cops or not. Thankfully it was empty and in pitch darkness. I find a peice of dirt and crap for Australia. It was literally not a second too late. Offspring is hysterical and shining his mobile light out at me. Thank goodness for Subway napkins in the handbag. I bury my deposit like a good upright citizen and we're outta there. I made the mistake of telling my friend. She told her boyfriend. Everyone thought it was hilarious. Note to self. Never have rich sauce again . Always remember your Subway napkins. And never tell your mates if you crap in a carpark.
 

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I have a story to tell.

It was December, 2011. My ex girlfriend had her work Christmas party. It was an open bar, which is never a good sign. I got absolutely wrecked, spewed over the bar, and spewed on the side of our taxi during the drive back to hers. I sat against her cold, iron wrought fence, eyes rolled back, pressing my tongue to the roof of my dry mouth, while she hosed off the taxi drunk, in a dress and high heels, to avoid the $120 cleaning fee.

Soon after, she undressed me, and I sat in her ensuite shower half passed out, half paraplegic. That's all I remember.

I woke up the next morning with something warm pressed up behind me. I thought it was my girlfriend. It wasn't.

Still drunk from the night before and feeling absolutely shithouse, I let out a slurred and raspy "Oh, f*ck!". The shit was probably 25 cm long, half solid, half sloppy, with a nutty texture. I ran to her bathroom, sliding arse cheeks and all and grabbed as much toilet paper as I could. This was the first time I've empirically discovered the idiom "it takes two hands to handle a whopper". My girlfriend was like "Oh my god! Did you take a shit in my bed?!". Women, am I right? :rolleyes:

Anyway, we put the sheets in the wash, scrubbed the mattress, put the mattress outside to air out, and told her parents I spewed on the bed (and explained that it smelt so bad because it was really acidic). They bought it, thank god.

She knew how bad I felt, so she bought me breakfast.

We lived happily ever after until she decided to be a whore.

The End.
 
Never really shared the story of how I lost my v-plates with anyone so here goes GD.

Ok, well when I was 17 my girlfriend at the time was finally ready to have sex. I, as one might expect of a 17 year old, was very excited. Neither hell nor high water was going to stand between me and my final destination.

I got ready for the night, trim my pubes and shower extra well. Unfortunately there was also an issue which I still have to this day. I have a digestive disorder that sometimes causes my shit to become large and quite solid whilst still inside me. At the time, I wasn't aware it was treatable and just thought everyone had to deal with the equivalent of anal kidney stones. So anyway I bring this up because that day I was brewing a mighty log which had been loaded into the gun for several days.

Let me set the scene. My girlfriend's parents are away so we have her house to ourselves. She was always a little kinky so she demands we do it on her parents bed.

I walked into a damn candle holocaust. She's been working on this all day apparently, and its as bright as high noon in there with the lights off. She proceeds to do a sweet, sexy little dance for me. At 16, she was AMAZING. Then again, she was a Britney Spears fan and always watched her music videos. For those of you who never experienced a female at that age, I pity the fool.

Now I'm sitting on the bed, watching this dance. I smile and think about how good she looks but unfortunately, a lot of my attention is focused on the dull throbbing in my sphincter and the large amount of intestinal discomfort associated with not dropping duce in days. Somehow though I still get hard and we go to town.

She starts out on top, then we switch. I bent her over the bed, and I even smacked her ass hard (I consider this a ballsy move for your first time, but she actually seemed to love it). Due to my built up 'distraction', I last for what seemed like forever. She couldn't stop moaning and telling me how good it felt even though she was in some pain, and then she says what every man loves to hear - "I want you to go in my mouth".

So she goes down on me. She was always average at best in this department but at least she tried. She then takes my dick out of her mouth for long enough to look up at me and say "tell me if you like this". Then I feel it.

She stuck her finger up my ass.

My brain hits the panic switch and every muscle in my entire body locks up tighter than a three year old virgin. But its too late.

I take a massive, PAINFUL, PAINFUL shit, all over her parents comforter.

No. You don't understand. I mean large. Huge. IMMENSE. Take the largest shit you've ever done and multiply that by 42 and you might have an idea of what flew out of me.

And gents, when I say flew, I don't mean your regular dump. I mean projectile. I mean "hurricane force winds hitting an umbrella stand". And due to my condition, it comes out as a large, dark brown, rotten harpoon.

I know some of it hit her even though I didn't see it. She ran out screaming "OH MY GOD OHMYGODOHMYGODEEEEEWWWWWWWW" I always imagined that, due to her position, it hit her right in the chin. Or at least the ****.

I would like to say that I got up to go after her but she was too quick. I heard the bathroom door shut so I just stood there frozen in shock. Then the smell hit me after a few seconds. It smelled like someone rolled a cat in shit and threw it into a tire fire. I looked down and saw, to date, the largest bowel movement I've ever done laying on the bed. Then I noticed the blood, and when I did, I noticed the pain.

Apparently the fact that it was so large caused it to rip my anal walls a little bit and thus bleed (I thought I was bleeding from the inside but the doctor's trip the next day is what taught me of my actual condition in the first place).

There was a small pool of blood where my ass had been near the bed. A final reminder of the exact place and moment I lost my virginity. I will treasure this memory for all my days.

I had to try to fix the situation so without giving a ****, I grabbed my shit with both hands and go to her downstairs bathroom. I throw around a third into the toilet and flush, fearing any more will clog it and only add to my already significant woes.

I go back to the bedroom and I'm just standing there in disbelief, holding the remaining two thirds of my biggest shit of all time, before feeling a trickle of blood flow down my leg, whilst trying to ignore the sharp stabbing pain in my rectum. I find myself wishing I had a photo of this to take to a psychologist.

Anyway, I finish flushing my baby, clean off my hands, jam toilet paper between my cheeks for the blood (I skipped the bandaid as it was too small) and went upstairs. I could hear my girlfriend sobbing from behind the bathroom door. I decided not to say anything to her and just keep moving. The smell in her parents room was abysmal. Its like when you take a shit and walk out of the bathroom and think "hey not so bad today", but then you walk back in to grab your magazine and go "****!!!". It was one of those moments.

The scene is burned behind my eyelids for eternity. My life. My shame. My very first time smelled like a pile of dead babies. I quickly got dressed since the heat from ten thousand candles was making the room feel more like a port-a-potty. I was aware enough to grab the comforter on my way out and drag it downstairs to their washer. Also the top and bottom sheets since the blood had leaked through all the way to the mattress. Still no sign of my girlfriend but at this point I considered it a blessing that she still wasn't there.

I jammed the sheets in the washer with 3 loads worth of detergent and set it on spin, knowing that not even the hand of God would save these linens, let alone Omo.

Then I left. I avoided my girlfriend's calls for days until we arranged for her to come to my house. We had a long talk about what happened. Talk being synonymous with "breaking up with me because I had shat on her". And it was all over. We had broken up. She promised not to tell a soul and I don't think she ever did. She was probably as ashamed as I was about the whole deed. The moment she lost her virginity was also the first time she got hit by a stray. But for me, I will always remember this as the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened in my life.

so yeah, tl;dr

I can't even imagine :o

One Eyed Sainter 66 you have to read this! :o :o
 
I have a story to tell.

It was December, 2011. My ex girlfriend had her work Christmas party. It was an open bar, which is never a good sign. I got absolutely wrecked, spewed over the bar, and spewed on the side of our taxi during the drive back to hers. I sat against her cold, iron wrought fence, eyes rolled back, pressing my tongue to the roof of my dry mouth, while she hosed off the taxi drunk, in a dress and high heels, to avoid the $120 cleaning fee.

Soon after, she undressed me, and I sat in her ensuite shower half passed out, half paraplegic. That's all I remember.

I woke up the next morning with something warm pressed up behind me. I thought it was my girlfriend. It wasn't.

Still drunk from the night before and feeling absolutely shithouse, I let out a slurred and raspy "Oh, f*ck!". The shit was probably 25 cm long, half solid, half sloppy, with a nutty texture. I ran to her bathroom, sliding arse cheeks and all and grabbed as much toilet paper as I could. This was the first time I've empirically discovered the idiom "it takes two hands to handle a whopper". My girlfriend was like "Oh my god! Did you take a shit in my bed?!". Women, am I right? :rolleyes:

Anyway, we put the sheets in the wash, scrubbed the mattress, put the mattress outside to air out, and told her parents I spewed on the bed (and explained that it smelt so bad because it was really acidic). They bought it, thank god.

She knew how bad I felt, so she bought me breakfast.

We lived happily ever after until she decided to be a whore.

The End.
Dennis Jensen would be proud of your writing
 

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