Poop Stories

Everyone who knows me knows I love a good poop story, and in fact, most of the people I associate with do as well. If I had to name the number 1 (or should I say number 2?) across-the-board funniest topic of discussion, I'd have to say the poop story. So I thought maybe I'd share some of my favorites here just for fun. In the interest of my fellow bloggers who may want to share their own favorite shit stories, I will only include those in which I was directly involved or those I have heard from others not including LilCherie or Tingle.

The Operahouse
This one goes way back to my high school days. LilCherie used to work at the local movie theater The Operahouse. While the movies played I would stand up at the concession counter and keep her company until people came out or someone came up for popcorn. If memory serves, we probably consumed a goodly share of the buttery popcorn ourselves, along with a Mountain Dew, one of my favorite beverages back in the day.

Like a strike of lightning, the cramps hit with full force. I immediately knew this was urgent and NOT something I wanted to take care of in the Operahouse's basement bathroom, where the stall doors were suspiciously high off the ground, enough so that you felt quite exposed sitting there. LilCherie, being LilCherie, knew what I meant when I said, "I have to go home...now!" I run-walked with butt cheeks clenched to my good old sky blue Chevy Citation and started her up. Already I was nearing catastrophe, and it took all my will as well as the full power of my sphincter muscles to keep it inside until I reached the safe haven of my home. I only had to go about seven blocks, but by the last four, I was going 60 mph and running stop signs. I screamed into the driveway, jumped out of the car and left it running, ditched my winter coat in the hallway on my way to the bathroom and ahhhhhh....sweet relief! Even after all these years, I think that may have been one of my most satisfying releases.

Michiana Shores
Last year, Tingle and her husband S., me and J. vacationed for a long weekend in the Michiana Shores area. It was a cold, blustery day, and yet we longed to walk along the beach and explore an austere and beautiful pier made of stone. We had just had lunch at some kind of bar and grille type place so we were in for a lazy walk. I grabbed my camera bag and we disembarked from the car. S. and J. walked ahead in some kind of manly unspoken competition to see if they could get to the end of the pier without someone wussing out. Tingle and I took it more slowly and walked just along the first part of the rocky construction.

As we walked quietly amongst the stones, watching the water lap at the shore, Tingle began having the signs of an impending diarrheal dump. It soon became clear that there was no way she was getting back to anything resembling civilization before she had to acquiese to her body's needs. Tingle, well known for her ability to piss anywhere, anytime, decided she had no choice but to duck down behind a rock and go for it (at which point I took one of my most favorite photos ever).

There was only one problem, however...neither of us had one scrap of paper, tissue, or even a leaf for clean-up purposes. In a moment of brilliant inspiration, I offered her the handtowel I kept in my camera bag to protect the equipment. Without choice, she accepted it gratefully, and like a cat, buried it, along with the rest of her deposit, beneath the sand. A few weeks later she sent me a replacement towel with a nice note reminding us of the hilarity on the beach. It sits in my camera bag, tag and note still attached, ready for its next use, whatever it may be.

The Cornfield
This one comes from the wife of one of my husband's coworkers--let's call her Joan. While she and her husband were in the "getting serious" stage of the relationship, travel plans took her to the vicinity of her future in-laws home. They made plans to visit, even though her beloved, their son, was away in the service at the time. So there she is, with a group of virtual strangers who will be her family, riding in the car following a nice lunch out. Now, you may think this story is about Joan, but no, it's even better. It's about her mother-in-law. Apparently Joan's MIL has bowel issues--major, unpredictable bowel issues, and this condition reared its ugly head on the drive home from lunch that day. "Pull over, pull over," she frantically shouted to her husband, Joan's future father-in-law. MIL jumped out of the car, leaving FIL, Joan and Joan's future brother-in-law in the car. She ran into a cornfield and let it rip. This, mind you, is just hours after Joan met this family for the first time. I know I'm not relating this one as humorously as Joan herself can do, but I still love it for the total awkwardness of the moment. And she still married the guy!

The Puppy
This one's short but sweet. Sometime last year, I took a shit and looked down (as I always do, to see what came out) and I swear to god, my turd was in the exact shape of a sleeping puppy. It was kind of like when people see the Virgin Mary in a puddle of oil or something (except I saw a puppy molded out of my own excrement). I was so excited I had to call my sister and Tingle right away (can't remember why LilCherie didn't get notified immediately--but I know she's heard about it by now). I refrained from taking a photo, though, which leads us to....

Gigantor
J. took a dump last year that was SO big, it was honestly hard to believe that it made it out of him with only a minimum of bleeding. As he is wont to do, he called me in to look at it. It literally filled almost the entire hole of the toilet. This REQUIRED documentation, and a photo was taken. Unfortunately, I didn't think to drop a penny in there, so it's hard to gauge the proportion of this bad boy. But trust me--I was in awe. And THIS leads us to....

The Hardees Hall of Famer
Once, a long time ago, J. was an assistant manager of a Hardees fast food joint. One night, a bus full of football players came in late in the evening following a game. Now this is bad enough in itself, as I'm sure you understand if you've ever worked fast food. But the horror story comes later, after the players had gone, and J. was finishing up his shift. He had to do a sweep in the restroom to make sure everything was clean before he left and....there it was. J. swears on his parents' graves on the size of this thing. He said it was so big, it actually was BIGGER than the hole in the toilet. We're talking like the size of a jar of spaghetti sauce here or something. Poor J., he had to take a plunger and BREAK THE FUCKER UP just to get it to flush down. I think for J., that moment came to symbolize his entire career with the Hardees food corporation!

You know, I could probably blog for days on this subject alone. So how about I leave you with these and give you the opportunity to send me some of your favorites, or perhaps blog the topic yourselves. And, as always, the topic remains open for visitation at a later date if I so desire.

Go forth and evacuate!