this week...
welcome to my bowels.
your welcome.
now, you may just want to stop reading if you are easily offended by words such as hemorrhoid, diarrhea, fissure, IBS, constipation, or assquake...
cuz this juicy (no pun intended) post has it all.
if you know me at all, you know i got issues downstairs. i'll spare you the gritty details, but the long and the short of it is ever since three rabid badgers came tearing out of my area, things have never really been the same.
there are times, like a lot of you when things are easy peazy downstairs. no need for sitz bath's or miralax, or copious amounts of tums. you might call them good days... for me they are the glory days. however, more than ever, those glory days have become more and more rare as my body has been in full rebellion... making me a slave to the porcelain throne.
we've all had our times, you know the ones... on an airplane, in your wetsuit, or stuck in traffic. its like all of the sudden it literally feels like gremlins are multiplying in your stomach and you seize up knowing that something similar to that green slime on nickelodeon is about to come shrieking out of your booty. your hands start sweating, your armpits are instantly wet... your mouth is dry, dizziness starts to overcome you. you feel a craving for relief like no heroin addict ever knew. you need to get your badonkadonk on the toilet ASAP.
a friend of mine told me the story of her boss who was on a quick commuter flight with no bathroom to a business meeting. the trots came like the rushing wind and he had no choice but to literally diarrhea his pants. did i mention it was a day trip? no change of clothes handy... just your prospective clients waiting for you at the airport. cuz nothing says, 'i got my sh*t together' like my khaki's are full of green apple nasties!
as much as i'd like to claim that one as my own, mines not nearly as glamorous. it began with your basic day trip to santa barbara. it was me, b, lils and oz. i was about 6 months pregnant with tali. me and b were talking casually when all of the sudden the whistle belly thumps began, my stomach started churning, and i knew that i had exactly 47 seconds till colon blow. there was no time for finding a starbucks bathroom, or even a dingy hole in the wall gas station... we're talking straight pull this mother over and get me to the side of the road. NOW. fortunately for all of us, we were in that dead area between santa maria and orcutt. so b maneuvered to an exit, where i literally opened the car door and copped a squat with only the car door as my shield. no time to find bushes, or wrap a towel around me. full blown highway 101 dooce. b starts cracking up, the kids are asking incessantly if i'm okay, but for me, i honestly never felt so happy. relief in its purest form. i grabbed a kirkland wipe, dug a little hole for the wipe and hopped back in the van with a smile on my face. it wasn't till we had turned around and were heading back to the freeway that i saw some sort of 'work crew' basically just south of where i took care of biz... for a second i was mortified. then i just laughed realizing these guys prolly hadn't seen a naked booty in years, and i knew i'd never see them again... so in a lot of ways, it really was a win - win.
so after that full disclosure and waaaay more detail than you could've wanted, please, do tell...
"where's the worst place you've had to relieve yourself?"
oh, and don't try and cop out with some measly pee in the alley story. i want the pee out your a** story!
23 comments:
Um...Ew. That was seriously nasty. I have a major phobia of pooping in public. And almost neeeever have the rhia and if i did i would hold it till i made it home. No joke. I was even on a serious colon cleanse once and I could still make it home. But I pee in my pants almost every day sooo.....
Holly, this post is crazy. I love it though because since I pushed out the second one I've had MAJOR issues. And that story about that boss man and the airplane gives me the chills. That is out of control. So my poop story takes place in Ukraine. It's not even bad or crazy... I was there for a mission trip and feeling horrible because I drank the water. I pretty much had no control. We were at a nursing school, hanging out with some of the girls and I HAD to go right then. Went into the bathroom and it was literally a room made out of poop. On the walls, on the floor, the toilet was just a hole in the ground covered in poop. SO. SICK. But I had to go and I did. And then of course, a sink with running water and soap was not an option, so ya. Good thing I wasn't a germaphobe yet. Those memories are so terrifying. I've got pictures of that bathroom somewhere... I might have to try and find them today...
Holly, this blog cracked me up. I'm proctoring state exams today and it's pin-drop quiet, until I read your blog. I'm also a won't-go-unless-I'm-comfortable-in-my-surroundings, so I don't have a story to compare or top yours. But I did "pop-a-squat" one night during my college days outside in the middle of a thistle patch. Not so fun the next day...
=)Cortney
I am laughing soooo hard right now!!!! And I can TOTALLY relate!!!
I can't believe I am going to admit this, but(no pun intended) mine was at the door factory somewhere in between paso and atascadero. Luckily I had a bag, but it wasn't pretty. Oh, and I sharted the day before school started my first day teaching because I was so anxious.
Gotta love the female digestive tract!
drea
In high school I would frequently go rock climbing in Joshua Tree. It's pretty much desert wilderness and if you want to climb a really good rock, there isn't a port-a-potty for a mile or so back at camp. Out in the desert, I never poop, or pee for that matter since I sweat most of the toxins out. But one day, after 3 days or so out there I was on top of a rock and it hit me like NOW. I was with a group of people with nowhere to hide so, full disclosure, let everyone know what was about to go down, literally. I wedged myself in a crevasse, about 100 feet up, wiggled my shorts down and let it drop. It was awesome letting poo drop 100 feet down. The real problem was that I had nothing to wipe with. I resigned myself to the fact that my butt would be itchy, but then as I started to shimmy up the crack, my foot slipped and I had an idea. I pried off large thin chunks of rock and scraped away the residue, pulled up my shorts and went back to climbing.
since i love this topic, i was reminded of another story as i was driving this morning.
eric and i had just been dating a few months and he suggested that we go on a hike. i agreed and got all ready trying to look as cute as possible in "work out" clothes. Not 5 minutes after he arrived to pick me up to leave, I had "a moment". I told Eric I needed to get something out of my roommate's bathroom(the furthest bathroom from the living room where he sat on our couch and waited for me). I did my thing and used way too much TP. When I tried to flush, it clogged the toilet. What was I supposed to do!? My roommates weren't home and I couldn't just leave. I snuck into the garage and grabbed the plunger without Eric seeing it. I plunged with all my might actually breaking a sweat. Eric asked me if I needed help with anything. I said I'd be just a few more minutes. Needless to say, I couldn't fix my mess and I HAD to leave. I couldn't possibly tell Eric and ruin my chances with this guy! I left a note for my roommate not knowing that her boyfriend would be the one to find it! I ended up telling him on the way home from the hike, and we met my roommate at the door whose boyfriend "fixed" the toilet while we were gone. Anyway, I was super embarrassed to say the least.
I'm waiting on a comment from Jen.
I come from a long line of IBS (I. Be. Sh*ttin') patrons, so my life is nothing if not a series of close calls. I had one recently while in LA with my wife and my best friend. We were on our way to a concert at the Staples Center when all of the sudden, I felt like there was an alien about to tear out of my butt. I told my friend that he'd better pull off the freeway, quick. Knowing my issues, he swerved across three lanes of traffic, took the next exit into the bowels (there have been lots of puns in the comments and I didn't want to be left out) of LA and found a laundromat for me to destroy. Unfortunately, the laundromat didn't have a restroom, so I shuffled down the street to a gas station, took care of biz and thanked the attendant for his hospitality. I went back to the car, expecting to find my wife and friend murdered (we drove a really nice E Class Mercedes into a bad part of LA). I thought for sure they'd be another needless victim of IBS. Turns out they were fine. Just relieved that I didn't ruin the leather in the car.
Last summer, we drove down to L.A. to go root on a friend of ours who was on Dancing with the Stars. When we arrived in L.A., we parked close to the top level of a parking garage right near the studio where the show was being taped. During the drive, I had consumed a large ice tea and a huge bottle of water and of course we did not stop once for me to pee, and there was not a bathroom remotely close to where we had parked. In a panick, I asked my husband "what am I going to do??? I seriously am not going to make it! " Walking anywhere was not an option...there wasn't enough time!!There were lots of cars pulling in and out of the parking garage and so going by the car was not an option either. My husband answered by pointing to my 2 1/2 year old's red Ikea potty seat. I swear at that moment I heard the "ahhhhh and holy bells"...the answer to my prayers! Hoisting your six month pregnant belly up on a potty seat while crouched in the back of a truck is not easy my friends...but I am proud to say I filled that sucker up almost to the brim while teetering very carefully on it and did not spill one drop!! I felt AMAZING after!! Good times!!
Okay I have a REALLY bad one that I'm not ready to share with the world yet, but I have a runner up that I don't mind sharing, as we've all kind of been there, I'm sure. I was in York (you may even know the bathroom I was in Holly!) right near the Minster and as we were getting ready to walk the wall. I had been holding back the business for a few days because I was embarrassed to go in my then boyfriend's (now husband) bathroom- we were still in that stage where you pretend that you are immune to basic bodily functions like bowel movements. Well as we were about to take in the sites the urge hit me and I knew I couldn't ignore it- it was gonna happen whether I liked it or not and it was going to be explosive. So I told Daniel that I had to find a bathroom- thank goodness there was one close by. Normally I don't go #2 in public bathrooms, I'm super embarrassed by it but I didn't have a choice this day. I ran into an empty stall, barley got my pants pulled down and let it happen. I was so incredibly embarrassed because the bathroom was full of ladies and this wasn't a quiet movement. I nearly died. Thank goodness the other women had the tact to not say anything or acknowledge me as I left the bathroom- it was the walk of shame. To this day I have no idea if Daniel heard (he was literally standing right outside and this was one of those "open" bathrooms where the roof was raised a bit) and I'll never ask him- some things are just better left unsaid. So there is my 2nd most embarrassing bowel story- the 1st I shall take with me to my grave.
So i was taking the car down to get worked on in Ukiah but they only drive you half way back to willits. So I had made plans for Cortney to pick me up at the bus stop half way to willits. I was waiting for her and I had the coffee rumbles and I knew it was a matter of minutes before the time would be here. I looked around only to find vineyards and the freeway. In the mean time several other bus goers had shown up and Cortney was taking way to long. I frantically looked around for a spot, of course no TP. So I ran up to a vineyard to relieve myself, but no TP so I resorted to use one of my socks, better than my shirt. Needless to say Cortney showed up 2 min later to see me with only one sock on.
Matt R
this may surprise you...but I dont think I have a story for this!! I did once put Prep H on my best friends asshole when she found out she had a hemmorid and couldnt see it! Okay, I am glad I dont know any of these people!
I haven't laughed so hard in ages! Poop and farts stories kill me everytime. Growing up BMs were a regular topic of discussion, a conversation piece I've brought into my marriage. I've even convinced RJ to keep a poop log (from Urban Outfitters) on our toilet in case anyone ever feels the need to share their "success."
Anyhoo, my downstairs problems are usually related to constipation rather than explosions. I can't poop in an new environment and it gets particularly bad when traveling. I have many vacation stories of romantic evenings spent alternating between warm baths, plates of prunes, enormous cups of coffee, and just reading on the john praying for some action. SO, as usual, while vacationing in Cabo San Lucas to visit the Blackwell family I didn't poop for more than three days. By day four I felt gross and irritable. Everyone wanted to see me pass something. We spent the afternoon at popular beach swimming and surfing in the warm water. Suddenly while doing casual laps in the ocean, maybe it was the exercise, I looked at RJ and said, "I can poop in here." I knew getting out of the water wouldn't work, so my unbelievably supportive husband swam with me a far distance from the general public (am I a bad person for doing this?). I shimmied out of my bikini bottoms, tossed them to him, allowed him to swim a few yards off, and successfully pooped in the warm Mexican water. Relief!
Freakin' funny stories..and I don't know any of you, but seriously fun to laugh!
Alright..where to start..I am pretty open about the whole pooping thing and don't have too many issues going where and when I need to..pooping in the woods, pulling over on the side of the road and barely hiding my arce behind the car door..using sticks. Grew up pretty open to whatever...That said, I really don't have any hilarious moments to share..or maybe I do, but I think they are normal. Soo..I asked my dear husband last night to see if he could tell any stories. He probably would kill me for posting this here, but I will take the chance. He works often out in the field, surveying things..and being professional on the job. But when the time comes to "drop the kids off at the pool" there are outhouses to relief ones self. Not bad...but the sharting is what caused an issue for him..in the field, no change of clothes..so he sharted..and well..wasn't sure what to do. So in thinking..grabbed a plastic bag from his truck (had one just laying around, I guess) and headed to the the outhouse to take care of the mess. I was curious why the plastic bag..he says well, I have to get rid of the boxers that I soiled. Can't leave them in the outhouse for the other crew to see, so I had to plastic bag them and put them in my truck to later dispose of them..after taking care of business! Good gawd! How gross. I hope he was solo that day on drive back to the office or where ever he was gonna drop his soiled goods!If you ever meet my husband..please do not mention this..:)
…a few days before Mandy and Eli Stewart’s wedding the sphanction gods decended in fury to wreak their own kind of merciless havoc on my lower intestinal tract. It also so happened that the ovulation gods had chosen these days prior to the wedding to tickle and egg out of wife’s ovaries and she was in full on baby making mode…which on the surface seems awesome for me, but between the fact that my sensitive nature detested being treated like a sperm donor and there wasn’t a chapstick in the world soothing enough to quench the fire that was my ring sting I respectfully had to decline her wanton advances on me between spack sessions.
Saturday morning rolls around and again the cock block was in effect as I pondered the meaning of a wedding and the associated reception on my fecal gameplan…I figured that if I didn’t eat anything I just might be able to pull it off, or hold it in as the situation would have it; solid plan for not so solid times…or so I thought. I managed to squeeze through the ceremony and decided that we should linger a little before leaving the church for the reception site figuring that I might manage a little solo time in the can….wrong, and of all people to follow me into the head my company for this particular session was apparently going to be Kevin Petit. Yikes. As I readied for the onslaught of something fierce I noted the resonant qualities of a large bathroom with vaulted ceilings and wall to wall tile and began to wish that there were earplugs available. My plan to not eat only worked to a certain extent as my ass erupted in a staccato burst of flu induced high pressure methane discharges which seemed to resonate and grow in volume as they bounced around the bathroom—Kevin may have hit the deck for all I know as the sound came from all directions…once he identified that he was in fact safe to a certain extent the heckling began; however, all control had since been lost and the heckling only seemed to fuel the fire in my colon…finally after his ears started to bleed Kevin left me alone to finish my business…
…fast forward 2 hrs to the reception…still no food, but what little food I had eaten over the last 48 hours decided to descend into my colon…bathroom, now. One of the nice people at the site pointed me in the right direction and my heart just about fell out of my chest as I crested the hill to see that the bathroom was basically a circa 1920 outhouse style structure with a toilet…can you picture it? …plenty of daylight through the wall boards, plenty of cracks and such for the sound of gunfire to make its way to a nearby wedding reception…and as if that wasn’t enough the girls bathroom (which was also of the same construction) was mere feet away…instinct however took over as the pressure of the situation mounted against the reality of nature and I proceeded to destroy that quaint restroom…and shortly thereafter went to sleep in the car as I decidedly was not going to be doing any dancing.
Having IBS myself. I can count about 25 car stops like that on the side of the road, along with numerous other places. You wouldn't beleive the classroom stories. Being a classroom teacher with IBS is pretty much a death sentence. My worst was when Tim and I were dating and on a hike. I had no wipes but his sock worked nicely. He never got it back of course. And he still married me. He definitely knew what he was getting into.
We are very open to talking about poop here, after all this is the "Schmidt" house. I think I've actually become quite numb to it. I've had the whole peeing out of my butt experiences in Mexico and almost not making it back from a run in time, and pooing without anything but a leaf on a hike, etc, etc, but I can't think of a particular funny personal story. With potty training kids, however, you often find them pooping anywhere and everywhere. A few months back we were in the Walmart parking lot in AG at night. I was getting tickets for New Moon (I had to get them early!) and Jason was supervising the kiddos in the car. Well, Nayeli had to poo. Never fear we always have a potty seat with us, but we don't always have bags to dispose of the poop. So after Nayeli did her business he dumped the poo under the car in the middle of the parking lot and drove off. Sorry for all of you regular Walmart AG patrons. -Rhiannon
So, I was on a missions trip to Mexico with our high school youth group. I ate from some shady taco stand, and you know what comes after that. I guess I tacos de cabeza wreak havoc. Anyway, a family from church brought their $100k+ motorhome with us and let me crash there until I felt better. I thought I was done and all the head meat had finally left, but apparently there was enough for a healthy shart before I could make it to the bathroom. So, I did what anyone would do in that situation. I went into the bathroom and flushed my boxers into the motorhome toilet. I just hope it didn't clog the tank too bad and back up into the motorhome.
Jason
Ah I was on my way to work on the bus when I realised I was about to be sick. I ended up on my hands and knees in the city centre with stuff coming out both ends... not pretty!
Yours had me cracking up though!
Wow you really put it all out there...I love it. So just because of your braveness I will share. I was a freshman in high school and we were on our way to Big Bear to ski for the day. Halfway up the mountains I had a rumble and a tumble. We pulled over but not in time. My long johns were done for. Cleaned up as much as possible and got back in the car. Had to wait until we got up to the mountain to fully clean things up. Needless to say I was embarassed and cold that day.
Another one not as bad, but way more embarassing was in Mexico. On a mission trip with the high school group. We are all sitting in a circle about 50 or so people. I let out the loudest fart ever! Everyone laughed and I was devistated. I can laugh now but I was nervous for months that it would happen again.
I never poop but someone who looks exactly like me got severe food poisoning and broke her soon-to-be mother-in-law's toilet. It was a nightmare. For her. Not me. I don't poop.
So many poo stories I could share especially with having kids.
The funniest story I can tell, is about my son TJ. When he was about 1 and a half he got into my purse and ate a whole pack of gum. He smelt like gum. His pee smelt like gum. He was pooping pieces of gum. It was sticky gum pieces stuck all in his poop. So gross. So one night getting him ready for the bath, he is running around naked. I hear a sound like a bubble popped. I look over and he is standing above this little pile of what looks to be chewed gum...yep he farted a bubble. It was hilarious. And the end of the poo and gum mixing, thank God. Now he just chews it, thankfully!!:)
What are you eating? It is time for a colonic!
Poop stories are my favorite! I've got a doozer (so to speak). I was in college and was partying at the "hot soccer guys" fraternity house one night and had waaay too much to drink. I hadn't pooed in a few days when suddenly I got the beer sh*ts. I found my way to their bathroom, but there was a line 10 people deep. Feeling the urgency building, I panicked and started looking for an alternate area in my drunken state. I managed to find a door to their garage where I spotted their cat's litter box next to the washer and dryer. I popped a squat over the litter box and filled it almost full with pee and poo. I embarrassingly tried to cover it with what remaining litter there was. I proceeded to wipe with a sock next to the washer/dryer. I feel really sorry for the cat and the poor soul who had to clean the litter box!
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