My Fearsome Craps
My Fearsome Craps: Tales of Restroom Destruction
This page will be frequently updated with recollections of the fearsome craps people take in their offices and the discussions that ensue. All are welcome to contribute to the repository of specimen documentation. Examples of specimen description include color, consistency, aroma, intensity, speed, angle of bowl entry, and taste. Enjoy!
- I just pinched the funniest looking turd in the office bathroom. It started out as a skinny little thing already, over 1 ft. in length, but after the first 8 inches of log, it seemed like my sphincter forgot that there was more coming, so it just started to pinch off, thus extruding the last 6 inches into this skinnier piece of crap that was maybe 3/4 –inch in diameter. It reminded me of the Play-Doh toys I had when I was a child and pretended to be an Eye-talian pasta-making chef with the various shapes of extrusion. I wonder if there is a market for such a product to aid in the rectal formation of fecal matter into amusing shapes and diameters? Is it possible to make a back door canelloni? Gnocchi? Rigatoni?
The crap itself had the consistency of gum, and it was therefore hard to wipe off the soft matter afterwards and it stank of bad dairy – I would say I’ve had far cleaner breakaways. I think this was due to the bad mac and cheese I had for dinner last night. In the future, when I consume bad mac and cheese for dinner, I will make sure to experiment with flexing my sphincter muscles to see if it is possible to construct sculptures through expert bowel control. More on this as progess dictates. --Ubernerd 10:59, 26 May 2006 (EST)
- The last few days I've been plagued with internal distress manifesting itself as fearsome tan squirts of fire. It has no structure to it and shreds in the bowl, and burns like the devil coming out of my butt. Also, it smells really horrible. Like, really, really horrible. -Zahnnie 11:06, 26 May 2006 (EST)
- Over the weekend I had a piece of steak that was cold and purple in the middle, just the way I like it. Good lord that was delicious. Unfortunately the end result of consuming such a delicious portion of meat is the dreaded "steak farts." Those of you who are unfamiliar with steak farts should be aware that they are some of the foulest-smelling, concentrated bursts of stale air bubbles that a colon is capable of. Any of you who have ever been on, or shared restroom space with someone on the Atkins diet (or any other all-protien diet) will have a good idea of the aroma. Think processed wet dog food whipped in a blender with concentrated human feces. That's the gamey smell I am referring to. These steak farts permeated the rest of the weekend with their presence, up until the moment I voided the steak from my bowels in a momentous, sticky, stinky payloaf, punctuated by several escape-and-evade steak farts of an almost bagpipe-resonance.--Ubernerd 08:21, 31 May 2006 (EST)
- I think I gave myself food poisoning last night via my coffeemaker. I knew I should have washed the filter holder more thoroughly. Especially since it had two week old coffee grounds festering in it from when Tom made coffee and cleverly forgot to clean up after himself, as usual. Being the usual lazy shit I am, I merely rinsed the coffee filter holder in really hot water, without antibacterial soap, under the false assumption that hot water would kill enough of the germs. I can tell you now that what followed this morning was surely anything but a lazy shit. I awoke in the middle of the night with horrendous gut-pains of a lower intestinal variety. I began by pinching some wheaty-looking loaves (when had I eaten wheat, I wonder?) and was in the middle of pinching off several more petite little loaves when my carpool arrived. Neatly wiping up I left, only to arrive at the office and spend half an hour painfully voiding my aching bowels of what I had assumed to be the rest of my solid meals from yesterday. However, 15 minutes ago I went to the bathroom experienced perhaps one of the most violent splattering shrapnel-shits I have probably ever experienced. While there was not much matter in the bowl iself upon examining the aftermath, I was horrified to find that I had managed to spray the bowl of the toilet with a substance akin to French's Spicy Brown mustard in a parabolic arc along the inner rim. Throughout these mortar bursts, I could feel and hear a gurgling and shift in my lower abdomen, clearly my intestines at work, loading up each wave of artillery as it exploded from my bunghole with a sickly, suffocated fart originating from deep within. The toilet looked like an apple brown betty, crumbs and all. --Ubernerd 13:30, 6 Jun 2006 (EST)
