Ignoring the Early Warning System

[SamClemmons]

:laugh: They bust your balls but we can ALL relate! Sounds like you had to perform "The Move". For more information on this dignity saving maneuver go here.

or.... you can just read it in the post before denverdog's.

NA

 

[OpusXKC]

 

[smokelaw1]

This is not OK.

Now, add alcohol, nicotine, and a long dinner at the Afghani Kabab house....and I can tell a story that ends with me opening a bathroom door with a big relieved smile on my face, walking into my smoke-filled living room populated with two busty red-heads (one of which I used to be married to), a crazy-hot half naked blonde bisexual nympho, my friend Phil (so intoxicated he can't really speak, and blind because he has terrible vision and lost his glasses) sitting on the floor bleeding, and then me saying "OK, we do NOT need to go tot the emergency room after all."

Ah....good times, good times.

 

[SweetMelissa]

Lord...I dare not even ask...I don't even think I have had parties like that :whistling:

Melly

 

[MiamiCubano]

Lord...I dare not even ask...I don't even think I have had parties like that :whistling:

Melly

My God I have. Even worse in fact. But I'll save those. One I do remember well...I almost shudder to post this....but one time (at band camp), when I was practicing law up in B'ham, I went out to get good and liquored up with some fellow Jarheads. The name of the place was Roper's, connected to Senior Frog's. Don't even know if those places still stand. I was double-fisting Rebel Yell, hell-bent on God know's what. I distinctly remember some totally hot chick (my buddies vouched for this fact) who came up to me, seeing me stumbling around, grabbed my neck and pulled me close to her lips and offered to take me home. I pushed her outta my way and slurred something along the lines of "get the hell away from me...arghrhghghblfft." I stumbled out of Roper's, at the door there were two of Hoover's finest in blue, but I knew them well from my days as a Court Magistrate, so I guess they let me pass, even in the condition I was. I still don't quite know how I even made it past them. Somehow I found my car, proceeded to vomit all over it, then slide around in it. Passed out on the hood of my car. Woke up a little later and found that my pants were around my ankles and my boots had been stolen. And it was starting to rain. Yes indeed. One of my best friends from the Corps found me, realized he needed to drive my car home, cursed like hell at me for having managed to vomit on the car's door handle that he had to use, then I remember passing out on the sofa. We were to go fishing the next day and...yes, I was still too drunk to even fish.

Ah, such fun.

 

[BobbyRitz]

Man this was some funny "shit"...

Literally and figuratively... :laugh:

 

[SweetMelissa]

Lord...I dare not even ask...I don't even think I have had parties like that :whistling:

Melly

My God I have. Even worse in fact. But I'll save those. One I do remember well...I almost shudder to post this....but one time (at band camp), when I was practicing law up in B'ham, I went out to get good and liquored up with some fellow Jarheads. The name of the place was Roper's, connected to Senior Frog's. Don't even know if those places still stand. I was double-fisting Rebel Yell, hell-bent on God know's what. I distinctly remember some totally hot chick (my buddies vouched for this fact) who came up to me, seeing me stumbling around, grabbed my neck and pulled me close to her lips and offered to take me home. I pushed her outta my way and slurred something along the lines of "get the hell away from me...arghrhghghblfft." I stumbled out of Roper's, at the door there were two of Hoover's finest in blue, but I knew them well from my days as a Court Magistrate, so I guess they let me pass, even in the condition I was. I still don't quite know how I even made it past them. Somehow I found my car, proceeded to vomit all over it, then slide around in it. Passed out on the hood of my car. Woke up a little later and found that my pants were around my ankles and my boots had been stolen. And it was starting to rain. Yes indeed. One of my best friends from the Corps found me, realized he needed to drive my car home, cursed like hell at me for having managed to vomit on the car's door handle that he had to use, then I remember passing out on the sofa. We were to go fishing the next day and...yes, I was still too drunk to even fish.

Ah, such fun.

LMAO...FIRST of all I CANNOT believe ANY cop in Hoover let you pass in that condition! The joke with Hoover is that if 1 cop pulls you over, 2 SUVs, 1 motorcycle cop and 2 more cars will pull over to help him out. Ropers and Senior Frogs are gone...but the signs are still up LOL...And several things have been put up in their place. There is a Bumpers over there now...we go there often and do free pool and drinks. You should come back to B'ham and herf...I am in short supply of herfin buddies here poor pitiful me...Funny story!

Melly

 

[bchem]

Oh man! My old man tells a story like that. The experssions and motions he uses to describe the sequence of events is enough to make both grown men and women alike, double over in a fit of laughter and tears. It is hard to breathe by the time he is finished with his story. In short, he gets sick 1/2 way between my Aunt's house and ours, and decides to try and make it home. Alas, he does not, but instead is forced to clean up on the side of a busy road, and drive home in the middle of November with people looking at him wondering why he is driving a mini van on a cold day in only his underwear. He says his greatest fear is that he will get pulled over and the cop will ask him to step out of the vehicle! Don't know how one goes about explaining that to the officer. ("Well you see officer, it started off at lunch time when I finished eating everyone elses left over fried onions and mushrooms...") That story, as disgusting as it may be, has me in stitches every time. To top it off, my Mom didn't want him to come in the house like that, and they proceeded to argue in the driveway as to the reasons why my Father refused to be hosed off in the front yard of our neighborhood before going inside. He won, and was promptly awarded with throwing away his clothes and getting a hot shower!

He'd kill me if he ever knew I posted this on the internet! Haha!

 

[Gwheato]

OMG I can so relate. Aprox. 7 years ago my cousin had come into town with his then fiance and we went to play golf. After 18 holes and close to two twelve packs later we headed back to the house to meet up with the girls. My wife drove us all to this hole in the wall seafood resarunt out in the middle of nowhere in south GA. My cousin and I sat in the back of the Tahoe continuing to have a drink or two and we met up with my boss and his family for dinner. Now after servings of fresh pickles, slaw, cheese grits, 24 fried jumbo shrimp and catfish I felt the urge myself. I promptly excused myself from the table and went towards the bathroom. Now to further explain, this restraunt has only one unisex bathroom with one sitdown stool, and a line of about five people, one with a small child. I knew there was no way on God's green earth I was going to make it so I abruptly headed towards the door and out into the parking lot. The parking lot there is nothing more than a dirt lot about 100 yards long and 30 yards wide surrounded by fields of corn and greens. It so happened that there was a small patch of trees between two of these fields at the end of the parking lot so I thought I would head there and stop by the Tahoe for some napkins. As I began to head towards the car I soon realized there was no time for the napkins I better hurry to the trees. Now I hunt quite a bit and am very familar on how to sh*t in the woods so I rushed to get up against a tree and fought with the belt around my cacky shorts all while attempting a variation on the move. As my shorts slid to my ankles the EBS hit hard (Explosive Bowel Syndrome). Like the Ryan's story, it exploded with such force that it ricocheted off the tree and back into my shorts down my legs and into my sandals. To make matters worse the smell attracted every misquito in S. GA and they immideatly swarmed around all of my nether regions. Thank the Lord I always where a white undershirt. I promptly removed my outer shirt and my undershirt along with my boxers and shorts, pulled out my knife and made three towels out of my undershirt. Needless to say I left the shirt and my boxers in the woods and with my head hung low began to walk towards the car where my boss, his family and mine were all calling out for me trying to figure out where I had gone too. My wife was sorley pissed as she thought I had had to much to drink and was out somewhere vomitting. They noticed me as I was nearing the vehicle and I simply said, "Just get in the car." I made my way to the very back seat and as my cousin began to come back to join me I said, "Dude, you don't want to do that, sit up front." at about that time the smell that remained on my sandals and shorts hit him and he began to laugh hysterically. As the rest of the family got into the car and realized what had happened they all joined in the laughter. I didn't think it was funny at the time especially after my boss pulled up next to us at a redlight and my wife promptly rolled down her window in hysterics and hollered out to them what had happened. As soon as I got home I requested a towel, stripped and hosed off outside before going in the house for a proper shower. Seven years later I can look back and laugh and even within the end of the evenoing I was enjoying the laughter with them, however the bites from those damn misquitos made life miserable for a few days. LOL

I feel your pain Brother,
Gwheato

 

[MiamiCubano]

Lord...I dare not even ask...I don't even think I have had parties like that :whistling:

Melly

My God I have. Even worse in fact. But I'll save those. One I do remember well...I almost shudder to post this....but one time (at band camp), when I was practicing law up in B'ham, I went out to get good and liquored up with some fellow Jarheads. The name of the place was Roper's, connected to Senior Frog's. Don't even know if those places still stand. I was double-fisting Rebel Yell, hell-bent on God know's what. I distinctly remember some totally hot chick (my buddies vouched for this fact) who came up to me, seeing me stumbling around, grabbed my neck and pulled me close to her lips and offered to take me home. I pushed her outta my way and slurred something along the lines of "get the hell away from me...arghrhghghblfft." I stumbled out of Roper's, at the door there were two of Hoover's finest in blue, but I knew them well from my days as a Court Magistrate, so I guess they let me pass, even in the condition I was. I still don't quite know how I even made it past them. Somehow I found my car, proceeded to vomit all over it, then slide around in it. Passed out on the hood of my car. Woke up a little later and found that my pants were around my ankles and my boots had been stolen. And it was starting to rain. Yes indeed. One of my best friends from the Corps found me, realized he needed to drive my car home, cursed like hell at me for having managed to vomit on the car's door handle that he had to use, then I remember passing out on the sofa. We were to go fishing the next day and...yes, I was still too drunk to even fish.

Ah, such fun.

LMAO...FIRST of all I CANNOT believe ANY cop in Hoover let you pass in that condition! The joke with Hoover is that if 1 cop pulls you over, 2 SUVs, 1 motorcycle cop and 2 more cars will pull over to help him out. Ropers and Senior Frogs are gone...but the signs are still up LOL...And several things have been put up in their place. There is a Bumpers over there now...we go there often and do free pool and drinks. You should come back to B'ham and herf...I am in short supply of herfin buddies here poor pitiful me...Funny story!

Melly

I haven't been back to B'ham in I don't know how long. Quite a few years anyway. Last time I remember being there, Vulcan was taken down for some manner of refurbishing. Much about B'ham I have forced into the darkest corners of my memory. Lol. One of my few saving graces there were The Briary (back when it was in Brookwood), some of the pubs in Five Points (what was that one brewery?...and the Irish pub on the same street as the old Hippodrome), and then much later such places as Blue Monkey and Hot and Hot Fish Club. Then of course there were my much darker haunts which included, but were not limited to, Wesley's Boobie Trap (not really in B'Ham), and that other strip club off Valley Ave...close to Johnny Ray's...I think it was called Sammy's. I ended up dating some dancer chick from Sammy's whose last words to me were on the phone, and roughly consisted of..."Baby, I'm in Mountain Brook's jail...I was arrested for shoplifting at Parisian...can you?..."...click.

 

[SweetMelissa]

Lord...I dare not even ask...I don't even think I have had parties like that :whistling:

Melly

My God I have. Even worse in fact. But I'll save those. One I do remember well...I almost shudder to post this....but one time (at band camp), when I was practicing law up in B'ham, I went out to get good and liquored up with some fellow Jarheads. The name of the place was Roper's, connected to Senior Frog's. Don't even know if those places still stand. I was double-fisting Rebel Yell, hell-bent on God know's what. I distinctly remember some totally hot chick (my buddies vouched for this fact) who came up to me, seeing me stumbling around, grabbed my neck and pulled me close to her lips and offered to take me home. I pushed her outta my way and slurred something along the lines of "get the hell away from me...arghrhghghblfft." I stumbled out of Roper's, at the door there were two of Hoover's finest in blue, but I knew them well from my days as a Court Magistrate, so I guess they let me pass, even in the condition I was. I still don't quite know how I even made it past them. Somehow I found my car, proceeded to vomit all over it, then slide around in it. Passed out on the hood of my car. Woke up a little later and found that my pants were around my ankles and my boots had been stolen. And it was starting to rain. Yes indeed. One of my best friends from the Corps found me, realized he needed to drive my car home, cursed like hell at me for having managed to vomit on the car's door handle that he had to use, then I remember passing out on the sofa. We were to go fishing the next day and...yes, I was still too drunk to even fish.

Ah, such fun.

LMAO...FIRST of all I CANNOT believe ANY cop in Hoover let you pass in that condition! The joke with Hoover is that if 1 cop pulls you over, 2 SUVs, 1 motorcycle cop and 2 more cars will pull over to help him out. Ropers and Senior Frogs are gone...but the signs are still up LOL...And several things have been put up in their place. There is a Bumpers over there now...we go there often and do free pool and drinks. You should come back to B'ham and herf...I am in short supply of herfin buddies here poor pitiful me...Funny story!

Melly

I haven't been back to B'ham in I don't know how long. Quite a few years anyway. Last time I remember being there, Vulcan was taken down for some manner of refurbishing. Much about B'ham I have forced into the darkest corners of my memory. Lol. One of my few saving graces there were The Briary (back when it was in Brookwood), some of the pubs in Five Points (what was that one brewery?...and the Irish pub on the same street as the old Hippodrome), and then much later such places as Blue Monkey and Hot and Hot Fish Club. Then of course there were my much darker haunts which included, but were not limited to, Wesley's Boobie Trap (not really in B'Ham), and that other strip club off Valley Ave...close to Johnny Ray's...I think it was called Sammy's. I ended up dating some dancer chick from Sammy's whose last words to me were on the phone, and roughly consisted of..."Baby, I'm in Mountain Brook's jail...I was arrested for shoplifting at Parisian...can you?..."...click.

LOL The Briary is still there, but I frequent a different shop. Vulcan is back up and mooning everyone around with his big ass. Brewery has a new name...Bailey's Irish Pub is still here kickin it, So is the Blue Monkey and of course...Sammy's...But i canNOT believe you went to Wesley's Boobie Trap

Melly

 

[MiamiCubano]

OMG I can so relate. Aprox. 7 years ago my cousin had come into town with his then fiance and we went to play golf. After 18 holes and close to two twelve packs later we headed back to the house to meet up with the girls. My wife drove us all to this hole in the wall seafood resarunt out in the middle of nowhere in south GA. My cousin and I sat in the back of the Tahoe continuing to have a drink or two and we met up with my boss and his family for dinner. Now after servings of fresh pickles, slaw, cheese grits, 24 fried jumbo shrimp and catfish I felt the urge myself. I promptly excused myself from the table and went towards the bathroom. Now to further explain, this restraunt has only one unisex bathroom with one sitdown stool, and a line of about five people, one with a small child. I knew there was no way on God's green earth I was going to make it so I abruptly headed towards the door and out into the parking lot. The parking lot there is nothing more than a dirt lot about 100 yards long and 30 yards wide surrounded by fields of corn and greens. It so happened that there was a small patch of trees between two of these fields at the end of the parking lot so I thought I would head there and stop by the Tahoe for some napkins. As I began to head towards the car I soon realized there was no time for the napkins I better hurry to the trees. Now I hunt quite a bit and am very familar on how to sh*t in the woods so I rushed to get up against a tree and fought with the belt around my cacky shorts all while attempting a variation on the move. As my shorts slid to my ankles the EBS hit hard (Explosive Bowel Syndrome). Like the Ryan's story, it exploded with such force that it ricocheted off the tree and back into my shorts down my legs and into my sandals. To make matters worse the smell attracted every misquito in S. GA and they immideatly swarmed around all of my nether regions. Thank the Lord I always where a white undershirt. I promptly removed my outer shirt and my undershirt along with my boxers and shorts, pulled out my knife and made three towels out of my undershirt. Needless to say I left the shirt and my boxers in the woods and with my head hung low began to walk towards the car where my boss, his family and mine were all calling out for me trying to figure out where I had gone too. My wife was sorley pissed as she thought I had had to much to drink and was out somewhere vomitting. They noticed me as I was nearing the vehicle and I simply said, "Just get in the car." I made my way to the very back seat and as my cousin began to come back to join me I said, "Dude, you don't want to do that, sit up front." at about that time the smell that remained on my sandals and shorts hit him and he began to laugh hysterically. As the rest of the family got into the car and realized what had happened they all joined in the laughter. I didn't think it was funny at the time especially after my boss pulled up next to us at a redlight and my wife promptly rolled down her window in hysterics and hollered out to them what had happened. As soon as I got home I requested a towel, stripped and hosed off outside before going in the house for a proper shower. Seven years later I can look back and laugh and even within the end of the evenoing I was enjoying the laughter with them, however the bites from those damn misquitos made life miserable for a few days. LOL

I feel your pain Brother,
Gwheato

Brother, that story is too f'ing funny.

 

[MiamiCubano]

Lord...I dare not even ask...I don't even think I have had parties like that :whistling:

Melly

My God I have. Even worse in fact. But I'll save those. One I do remember well...I almost shudder to post this....but one time (at band camp), when I was practicing law up in B'ham, I went out to get good and liquored up with some fellow Jarheads. The name of the place was Roper's, connected to Senior Frog's. Don't even know if those places still stand. I was double-fisting Rebel Yell, hell-bent on God know's what. I distinctly remember some totally hot chick (my buddies vouched for this fact) who came up to me, seeing me stumbling around, grabbed my neck and pulled me close to her lips and offered to take me home. I pushed her outta my way and slurred something along the lines of "get the hell away from me...arghrhghghblfft." I stumbled out of Roper's, at the door there were two of Hoover's finest in blue, but I knew them well from my days as a Court Magistrate, so I guess they let me pass, even in the condition I was. I still don't quite know how I even made it past them. Somehow I found my car, proceeded to vomit all over it, then slide around in it. Passed out on the hood of my car. Woke up a little later and found that my pants were around my ankles and my boots had been stolen. And it was starting to rain. Yes indeed. One of my best friends from the Corps found me, realized he needed to drive my car home, cursed like hell at me for having managed to vomit on the car's door handle that he had to use, then I remember passing out on the sofa. We were to go fishing the next day and...yes, I was still too drunk to even fish.

Ah, such fun.

LMAO...FIRST of all I CANNOT believe ANY cop in Hoover let you pass in that condition! The joke with Hoover is that if 1 cop pulls you over, 2 SUVs, 1 motorcycle cop and 2 more cars will pull over to help him out. Ropers and Senior Frogs are gone...but the signs are still up LOL...And several things have been put up in their place. There is a Bumpers over there now...we go there often and do free pool and drinks. You should come back to B'ham and herf...I am in short supply of herfin buddies here poor pitiful me...Funny story!

Melly

I haven't been back to B'ham in I don't know how long. Quite a few years anyway. Last time I remember being there, Vulcan was taken down for some manner of refurbishing. Much about B'ham I have forced into the darkest corners of my memory. Lol. One of my few saving graces there were The Briary (back when it was in Brookwood), some of the pubs in Five Points (what was that one brewery?...and the Irish pub on the same street as the old Hippodrome), and then much later such places as Blue Monkey and Hot and Hot Fish Club. Then of course there were my much darker haunts which included, but were not limited to, Wesley's Boobie Trap (not really in B'Ham), and that other strip club off Valley Ave...close to Johnny Ray's...I think it was called Sammy's. I ended up dating some dancer chick from Sammy's whose last words to me were on the phone, and roughly consisted of..."Baby, I'm in Mountain Brook's jail...I was arrested for shoplifting at Parisian...can you?..."...click.

LOL The Briary is still there, but I frequent a different shop. Vulcan is back up and mooning everyone around with his big ass. Brewery has a new name...Bailey's Irish Pub is still here kickin it, So is the Blue Monkey and of course...Sammy's...But i canNOT believe you went to Wesley's Boobie Trap

Melly

I talk to Skip (from the Briary) once in a while and heard they moved out of their little cubby hole in the mall and have their own farmhouse now. Nice. As for Wesley's Bobbie Trap...that place was insane. Used to be complete with sticks (roughly 3x3's) in the middle of their wooden tables that you were supposed to bang when you saw one of them girlies you thought was purty. But, yes, I went many times. Actually, there used to be this little soda stand by the bridge/river right near Wesley's that had some of the best root-beer floats and burgers/dogs around. Speaking of nudie bars, I also went to some "bar" that was out in Anniston, literally in the middle of f'king nowhere, in what had to be a converted double-wide. It even had stairs that led to the front door and when you were on the ground, you could see the trailer's axles/wheels. Now that place was crazy.

They still color code Vulcan with the red/green lights? Used to do that...red meant someone died on the roads, green meant all is well.

 

[Smokyballs]

Tony, NEVER, NEVER, EVER TRUST A FART! Never pass up an opportunity to use the bathroom when you are feeling the slightest pressure! I have a story that I can't completely relay without making a few of you sick! Let's just say this, never pound energy drinks and Italian sausages at an Outlaw event and expect to have just a noisy fart the next day! I had to repaint a wall in my bathroom! And the"Move" only creates an semi-circle spray that defies all gravity and finds its way on to everything except the place you want it! 2 seconds to expel it, 2 hours to clean it up! It was like an arterial spray, it just wouldn't stop! It was like someone had put brown gravy into a pressure washer!

 

[fenian'98]

Here's an excerpt from a story on tuckermax.com that fits the bill:


I hadn't realized how supremely shit-housed I was until we stumbled into our room at the Embassy Suites. You ever been so drunk you forgot that you have to shit until the last minute? Well I was at that stage. I nearly had my pants completely off when SlingBlade snaked past me and got into the toilet first. Fine, I go get out of my bar clothes and change into a t-shirt and pink Gap boxers to sleep in. I wait patiently for about three minutes, then I start pounding on the door, screaming at him that I am going to shit on his bed if he doesn't get out of there.

A short time later he opens the door laughing his ass off, and says, "That was perhaps the most prodigious shit ever. I just put that toilet into therapy."

I take a gander into the bathroom. It looks like Revelations. The toilet is overflowing, brown shit water is spilling out all over the bathroom floor, and the tank is making demonic gurgling noises.

THE MOTHERFUCKER CLOGGED UP A HOTEL TOILET!

Hotel toilets are industrial size; they are designed to be able to accommodate repeated elephant-sized shits, and their ram-jet engine flushes generate enough force to suck down a human infant, yet skinny ass 170-pound SlingBlade completely killed ours.

I nearly panic. I let loose a flurry of unintelligible curse words at SlingBlade, punctuated by a "WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!," and knock over the lamp in my dash out of the room. The turtle is sticking his head out, and he is coming whether I am on a toilet or not.

I figure that there must be a bathroom somewhere in the lobby, so I shoot down the hall and hop in the elevator. Once in the lobby I can't seem to spot a bathroom anywhere. So, I head around the corner to the front desk, which doesn't face the lobby. It's about 4am, and no one is at the desk. I furiously hit the bell for at least a minute--CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG --until some poor lady comes out with sleep lines all over her face and tells me that the bathroom in the corner of the lobby.


I turn the corner from the front desk into the lobby and realize I don't know which side of the triangular lobby she is talking about. I don't have time to go back and ask her, and I see a white door at the end of the left-hand side, so I quickly waddle towards it. Why am I waddling? Because I have to physically hold my butt cheeks together to prevent myself from crapping all over my pink Gap boxers. I am literally pressing my ass cheeks together with my hands. One of the prouder moments of my life.

I nearly bust the door off it's hinges as I plow through it. I hear a loud, "AYYYY!!," that almost literally scares the shit out of me. I jump back to see that this is a janitor's closet, complete with a small Mexican lady janitor. I momentarily contemplate taking a dump in the janitors bucket, but decide against that, mainly because of the presence of said female janitor.

I try to be as diplomatic as possible, considering that I am about to crap my pants:

Tucker "WHERE IS THE BATHROOM?"
Janitor "No, no se habla Ingles."
Tucker "WHAT?!? Huh, uh...DONDE ESTA FUCKING BANO?"
Janitor "AYA, AYA!"

She points across the lobby. About 60 yards from where I am standing, at the complete other end of the lobby, there is a set of doors that have a large "Restroom" sign over them. Right where the front desk lady said it would be, except on the opposite side of the lobby.

I have about half a second to make a crucial decision: I can either sprint and hope I make it there before I shit in my boxers, or I can stick my thumb up into my ass and shuffle the 60 yards to lavatory freedom. The decision is simple: I break into a full-on dead-ass sprint.

I am a decent athlete, I played football, baseball and basketball in high school, and I stay in good shape. I have run from cops before, I have run from guard dogs, from a legitimate drive-by shooting once while in Kentucky, but I don't think I have ever run that fast in my life. Nothing motivates like the prospect of being covered in human excrement.

Unfortunately, I was not fast enough. It went something like this:

-20 yards into the run I feel my boxers start to sag.
-30 yards into the run, about halfway, I feel my ass crack and legs get noticeably wet.
-40 yards into the run, my boxers have slid down to mid thigh. I am struggling to keep it together.
-50 yards into the run, I can feel wetness all over me and little specs of something hitting the back of my head and ears.

By the time I get to the bathroom door, the end of the 60 yards, I have completely lost it.

I am shitting myself. Full on crapping in my pink Gap boxers.

I step out of my boxers as I crash through the door. Shit is puddled in the seat. I blindly hurl them away from me, and nearly break the door to the first stall. I plop down on the seat and immediately slide off, because my ass is covered in slimy, runny feces. All the while, my butt hole is spouting forth waste. I finally get situated on the toilet and lose perhaps 20 pounds in the next 2 minutes.

During a short respite in my nearly superhuman flow of crap, I notice that the toilet is almost completely full of shit, so I flush. Predictably, the toilet overflows. Great. I move to the next stall, and continue my little adventure, except this time I courtesy flush every few seconds.

By the time I finish, I am physically exhausted, completely dehydrated, and my eyes are tearing up from shitting so hard. I laugh at the inadequacy of toilet paper to clean my body. I take my shirt off and see that the back of it is completely covered in little specks of shit that my heels kicked up from the diarrhea that ran down my legs as I ran. I throw the shirt in the trash, and then see the mirror. My pink Gap boxers are crumpled in a ball on the sink, with a thick black streak leading from the top of the mirror down to them. This is their final resting place.

Completely naked and covered in my own poop, I chuckle, because at this point if I don't laugh I have to cry. As I open the bathroom door to the lobby, I think to myself, "Who else on earth could be having a worse night than me?"

My question is immediately answered.

I see a trail of shit, starting very wide at my feet, getting progressively smaller until it apexes at the chunky white shoes of none other than the small Mexican lady janitor.

Her eyes met mine. We may have been separated by numerous religious, language and socioeconomic barriers, but the "What the fuck just happened?" expression on her face crossed all boundaries.

Now really--picture this scene: I am butt-ass naked, crap plastered all over my ass, legs, back and head, standing about 20 yards away from a Mexican maid, with a trail of black liquid shit leading from her directly to me. What would you do? I wasn't sure. I don't think there is any defined etiquette for this situation.

I shrug my shoulders, say, "Uhh, sorry. I mean, uh--lo siento. Good night. Buenos noche--or whatever," and calmly walk to the elevator.

From the glass window in the elevator, I can see her sobbing. The rest of the lobby tells me why: Not only had my legs kicked shit up on the back of my ears and head, they had sprayed little specs of poop all over EVERYTHING. The couches, the walls, everywhere.

Come to think of it, she wasn't sobbing. I believe "hysterical crying" would be a better descriptive term. Oh well, someone has to clean up my messes, and it sure as shit isn't going to be me.

When I get back to the room, SlingBlade is already in bed. He rolls over, takes one look at me and, never one for sympathy, begins laughing uncontrollably. He literally has to stop laughing because he strains his abdominal muscle. It takes him five whole minutes before he can get the words out,

SlingBlade "Where--where the fuck are your pants?"
Tucker "FUCK YOU ASSHOLE. This is all your fault, Mr. Rhino Dump. If you hadn't had that miscarriage in our toilet I wouldn't be COVERED IN SHIT!"

He couldn"t stop laughing long enough to respond. I took what remained of my dignity and got in the shower. As I was cleaning the poop off my back, I could hear him yell out:

"This is clear proof that there is a God, and he is just!"

 

[BrownDevil]

Tucker "WHERE IS THE BATHROOM?"
Janitor "No, no se habla Ingles."
Tucker "WHAT?!? Huh, uh...DONDE ESTA FUCKING BANO?"
Janitor "AYA, AYA!"

LMFAO!!! :laugh:

 

[Saxjazzman]

:laugh: If this thread is not copyrighted, I would like to use it in a booK!!! This is some funny stuff!!

Imagine this on a mass scale, about 30-40 soldiers. We were on a 7 hour non-stop convey and when we did stop, you heard more noise than scuds going off!! Most of us had gas and liquid movements because of the MREs (combat rations) we were eating since the war began. It was bad, if not hilarious!! (of course, not at the time)

Great story!! :thumbs:

 

[Mike33]

LMAO!!!! Some really sick and funny stories.

The only time I had some PBR, I was hurting the next morning :blush:.

 

[Mr Peat]

Tony, NEVER, NEVER, EVER TRUST A FART! Never pass up an opportunity to use the bathroom when you are feeling the slightest pressure! I have a story that I can't completely relay without making a few of you sick! Let's just say this, never pound energy drinks and Italian sausages at an Outlaw event and expect to have just a noisy fart the next day! I had to repaint a wall in my bathroom! And the"Move" only creates an semi-circle spray that defies all gravity and finds its way on to everything except the place you want it! 2 seconds to expel it, 2 hours to clean it up! It was like an arterial spray, it just wouldn't stop! It was like someone had put brown gravy into a pressure washer!

I'm in tears over this one as it brings back memories from the days of working in the Hospital. I had to go in and clean a stall that had something like this happen. Feces on all 3 walls, the door, ceiling, and all over the toilet. I guess someone had a good time in there and it took awhile to clean the mess up. But not as good as a friend of mine tho. He was taken in for an overdose and was released at the same hospital we worked at. A week goes by and no one has seen or heard from him. Finally a foul stench was detected from the basement bathroom. They proceeded to kick the door in and found him on the stool dead after a week. That wasnt pretty either.

 

[Dave]

No pictures? ???






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