Leppotone

I pooped in a shoe box. It was really hard to look at, let alone smell. Pranks gone terribly wrong ensued.

I like your trendy Depends idea.

Again, you truly are the idea man.

Let's hear some more "Pooped where I souldn'ta" stories!

I was overcome by the terrible rumblings in the middle of nowheresville while driving an Airborne Express delivery van.

Mid Winter, I had no time, and no place at to go, so…

Pulled over on a woodsy county road, climbed in the back, took my pants completely off, opened the sliding side door, and hanging onto both sides of the open door, squatted butt-out and let if fly. Used an extra uniform shirt for cleanup, sealed it in an important looking plastic Airborne mail pouch and left it on the rural roadside. I'd like to believe somebody uncool found and opened the package hoping for lost treasures, but I probably poisoned a bear.

I dunno... maybe it was bad fruit, maybe I just ate too much. But I was fortunate to be back in my wilderness preserve, out of sight from civilization. I usually walked up to the rest room in the barn, but there wasn't any time.

It was a nice warm day, so a dip in the pond was in order afterward.

Does a bear shit in the woods? Yes, yes it does. I bet the Pope has, too.

I guess various woodsy locations. During childhood and onward.  We camped a lot when I was a kid.  Sometimes this involved shitting in a coffee can—SANKA.  Sometime during adolescence I developed the typical self-conscious public bathroom performance anxiety, as if nobody else is in there to make Chinese and organ music….but I digress. 

Needless to say, this led to me being a bit too clenchy of butt to just drop trou and take care of business just anywhere during my teenage years.  Once I decided to engage in psychedelic experimentation, however, all bets were off.  Bears and popes do shit in the woods, as do co-eds with abnormally large pupils.  All I can say is that leaves are not terribly useful in such situations unless you are in the full blush of summer and things are really ripe and full.  If it’s autumn or spring, you are SCREWED when pooping out of doors when it comes to wiping, unless you came prepared with a pocket full of Kleenex, which I learned to do after getting caught out by surprise and having to improvise…let’s just say that I seem to recall said improvisation involved crinkly leaves, bark, and, ultimately, throwing some dirt at my butt with the idea that it would act like that sawdust that janitors sprinkle to absorb hurl. 

Disgusteen.  I would prefer to just "no comment" this base discussion, but I must be heard.

Festiv adult diapers?  Depends on the celebration, but could be a sac fulla fun.  Oh, my, fucking, gawd, Airborne Express enevelope sealed and bulging with excitement, thank you.

Oh man, there was the last time we went to Pine Knob for Motorhead/Dio/Iron Maiden (wedding gifts rule!) and after 2 tall $7.00 MGD cups I was fucking hit.  I filled the cup.  The stadium pisser holding bag would be awesome for those situations, but in shorts, wouldn't you run the risk of a friend kicking the bag really hard and splasing piss everywhere? 

Pooping outside is always fun, wear layers so your undershit can be easily discarded.  Or of course hope for the mysterious healthy turd that requires no wiping (very rare, ranked way above floaters and even above green or blue turds). 

If you're inside and are worried about peeing all over, it happens in the push to war, a convenient method is to open up an empty pizza box, poop in the back and piss up front, close it up and all set for special piping hot delivery.  

Man this is Great stuff! Crappor indeed! Dingey, hat's off sister, "throwing dirt at my butt" was a belly laugher!

Similar to Crappor's story, my brothers were in the tub together, and we heard one of them getting really excited, then screaming. The other one had pooped in the tub, then to make it better, he stuck a little plastic army man in it and pushed it at the other one. He was crying and screaming, and all we could do was stand there and laugh at them!

Another tubish story,  I'm downstairs in my basement watching Star Trek. I hear Mom bellow something, I yell back, "What?" No reply, not important? Few miutes later I hear it again, "What..are...you...SAYING?!?" No reply.  Now I'm pissed 'cause I'm gonna miss something Spocky.    I stormed upstairs and got all huffy at the bathroom door. "What did you say?" Mom said she didn't say anything. "I heard you yelling..." Mom started laughing and said "I was farting in the tub!"

Flabby Mom cheeks submurged and squeeling away on the bottom of the tub are just as annoying as the other end when you're trying to watch Star Trek. If it had been "Tribbles" I'da probably killed her.

So that evening I decided to try it. I whipped it out and dampened the dusty ground. But I was then distracted by a POUND POUND BANG POUND POUND and muffled yelling. My mom was doing dishes and could see me taking a leak in the driveway, for the entire world to see.

A lesson learned.

My friend John had been eating fried egg sammiches for lunch, one of his momma's special treats, and he was out walking the Cumstuck hoods looking for fun. Suddenly, as if secret Area 51 HALO brown note weapon hits his guts, he's crippled in pain. Half a mile from his home, even farther from his friend's place, clenching begins. He has demonstrated many times a certain behavior that can save you a public soiling: punching your ass muscles. He swears, punching his fucking ass pretty hard on the stiff-legged 30 minute brisk walk back home was what saved his dignity and shit free pants. I guess that punching your buttocks kinda resets your whole posterior including your anus, kinda like shocking the heart back to life with electricity.  He swears by it, personal results may vary, I'm just reporting. 

Another story, friend J*** had a lady friend that refused to poop in public places, requiring the tranquil confines of home shitter. They're eating pizza buffet in Plainwell at Upper Crust, the ride home, as you may know would be a fateful journey. J's driving, female companion complains of tummy ache. "You should have went while we were back there!" "I couldn't! Please hurry!" By this point in time she has taken off her seat belt and is hovering in the front passenger seat, dangerously yelling for J to drive faster. "Don't you fucking shit in my car!" She shit in his car. Pants filled, she was forbade from sitting down the final few miles until they got home. More verbal abuse followed at home. They are no longer together, sadly.

Of course I have no personal stories to tell, but do not dispair: Sarrah to the rescue again. 

Mom had driven in from Paw Paw to meet me and, at the time, boyfriend in MexicanTown Detroit for some foods. Mom had a long drive and had stopped for some White Castles before meeting us. As most of our stories go, she had to go really badly, but was not in a good place to use proper facilities. Fortunately, a Offically Licenced Product Fast Food 32oz Plastic Cup (TM) was rolling around her mini-van. Yes, you guessed it; mom pulls over, poops in cup. Tells me and at the time uptight boyfriend - I'm sure he's still uptight - of her adventure. Then, we ordered refired beans from the restaurant.  

....all of your warm family memories. 

I know that I MUST surely know some other inappropriate poop stories!  If only I could think of one! 

I have a really amazing ability to "hold it," so I have no tales of panicky poopery. Here I sit all brokenhearted...

Devised by K. Heaton et al. in 1992, the Bristol Stool Form Chart aims to assist medical diagnosis by categorizing bowel movements into seven types.

1. Spearate hard lumps, like nusts
2. Sausage-shaped, but lumpy
3. Like a sausage or snake but with cracks on its surface
4. Like a sausage or snake, smooth and soft
5. Soft blobs with clear-cut edges
6. Fluffy pieces with ragged edges, a mushy stool
7. Water, no solid pieces

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go make a number 3.

was just getting this story out to the public. My friend works and he has to track BM's on charts, to make sure people are doing ok and not having impacted bowels which can result in poop appearing in the mouth. Vomiting out poop. South Park whaaaa?

I just rediscovered this thread and suddenly remembered that  a couple of kids that I used to babysit referred to pooping as "bow move it."  It took an emberassingly long time for it to dawn on me that the phrase probably evolved from them trying to say "bowel movement" as toddlers and that the term just stuck.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've gotta bow move it.

If you like poop stories then this one is right up your alley. Those childhood poop stories pale in comparison. This one has it all; Art, science, a butt plug, even pictures of the work in progress! All 26 feet of it! And it only cost mom and dad $74,000 at one of the most prestigious art schools in the country!

http://intermaweb.net/index.php/2005/10/29/

world-record-4-peristaltic-action/

Sorry, I can't seem to figure out how to insert the link but copy and paste it into your browser if you have to. You won't want to miss it... though you'll never go bowling at Cranbrook again.

For leaks only! Wish I had some last week, but I just invented them.

Good for the Flu, poker games, chili cook-offs and well traveled bears.

Prototype is a pair of cotton briefs with additional layer of waterproof fabric covering the "target zone."

In between the layers is a space for a disposable Silica gel packet. "Do not eat."

Good to see you back in action, man.