Shitty Stories

The Ring Bearer

2008-05-24T11:58:00.001-04:00

A friend of mine was a ring bearer in a wedding around the age of 10. After the wedding he had a bit of an accident before he got in the limo. On the way to the next stop people were complaining about the stench in the vehicle. Fully aware that he was responsible for the putrid odor he jumped out of the limo at the next stop. A quick check in the gas station bathroom stall confirmed the presence of feces and utter destruction of his boxers. After the brevity of the situation set in he reached for the toilet paper and found none. To clean his ass he was forced to use one of his black tuxedo socks. After wiping his ass with his nylon, ass-scraping TP he disposed of the evidence in the bathroom garbage can. Returning to the limo he started to think he might get away with the ordeal when someone in the limo asked what happened to his sock. Being 10 years old and not very quick witted he informed the person that "he lost it". The questioning ceased at the point either because the wedding party was drunk or because everyone realized the cute little ring bearer had pooped his pants.

Rat riding a Cat, riding a Dog

2008-05-22T12:07:00.004-04:00

Perhaps the most stupid thing I have ever seen to date. The man's rational and pride stemming from this feat is mind boggling......almost as much as the fact this was front page news on cnn.com. The Stupid Video

Amusement Park Poop Story :: Myth or Legend?

2008-05-21T13:10:00.000-04:00

There is an infamous story about a girl that shit herself on a rollercoaster at an amusement park. You here the story everytime you go to a park with a group of people and it's always a cousin's friend or something to that effect. I think the way the story goes the girl had waited in line for a couple hours to get on a ride and most of the time she had to take a dump. When they got to the front she was going to leave but was easily persuaded to stay since she had waited so long. After being locked into the cart and buckled down she realized she was not going to make it. The rollercoaster took off and over one of the hills she lost it and pooped her pants. When she got back to the loading station she unbuckled and darted for the exit with a nasty ass brown stain on her back. They had to shut down the ride for almost an hour to sterilize it. She came on a bus with a group of people students so she could not leave. Unable to leave she spent the rest of the day with a brown stain on her backside that she claimed to be Coke to anyone that asked. Must have been a hell of a bus ride home. Can you imagine being the person responsible for shutting down a ride because you defecated on it

Fly in the Urinal

2008-05-21T11:37:00.003-04:00

I found this quality/splash control technique while Stumbling. Rather interesting. Fly in Urinal

Bean Dere

2008-05-01T12:57:00.002-04:00

I went grocery shopping recently while not being altogether sure that course of action was a wise one. You see, the previous evening I had prepared and consumed a massive quantity of my patented, 'You're definitely going to sh*t yourself' chili. Tasty stuff, albeit hot to the point of being painful, which comes with a written guarantee from me that if you it eat the next day both of your ***** cheeks WILL fall off. Here's the thing. I had awakened that morning, and even after two cups of coffee (and all of you know what I mean) nothing happened. No 'Riksters' Movement #2'. Despite habanera peppers swimming their way through my intestinal tract, I appeared to be unable to create the usual morning symphony referred to by my next-door neighbors as thunder and lightning. Knowing that a time of reckoning had to come, yet not sure of just when, I bravely set off for the marke t; a local Wal-Mart grocery store that I often haunt in search of tasty tidbits. Upon entering the store at first all seemed normal. I selected a cart and began pushing it about dropping items in for purchase. It wasn't until I was at the opposite end of the store from the restrooms that the pain hit me. Oh, don't look at me like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm referring to that 'Uh oh, gotta go' pain that always seems to hit us at the wrong time. The thing is, this pain was different. The habaneras in the chili from the night before were staging a revolt. In a mad rush for freedom they bullied their way through the small intestines, forcing their way into the large intestines, and before I could take one step in the direction of the restrooms which would bring sweet relief, it happened. The peppers fired a warning shot. There I stood, alone in the spice and bak ing aisle, suddenly enveloped in a noxious cloud the likes of which has never before been recorded. I was afraid to move for fear that more of this vile odor might escape me. Slowly, oh so slowly, the pressure seemed to leave the lower part of my body, and I began to move up the aisle and out of it, just as an elderly woman turned into it. I don't know what made me do it, but I stopped to see what her reaction would be to the malodorous effluvium that refused to dissipate, as she walked into it unsuspecting. Have you ever been torn in two different directions emotionally? Here's what I mean, and I'm sure some of you at least will be able to relate. I could've warned that poor woman but didn't. I simply watched as she walked into an invisible, and apparently indestructible, wall of odor so terrible that all she could do before gathering her senses and running, was to stand there blinking and wav ing her arms about her head as though trying to ward off angry bees. This, of course, made me feel terrible, but then made me laugh. Mistake. Here's the thing. When you laugh, it's hard to keep things 'clamped down', if you know what I mean. With each new guffaw an explosive issue burst forth from my nether region. Some were so loud and echoing that I was later told a few folks in other aisles had ducked, fearing that someone was robbing the store and firing off a shotgun. Suddenly things were no longer funny. IT was coming, and I raced off through the store towards the restrooms, laying down a cloud the whole way, praying that I'd make it before the grand mal assplosion took place. Luck was on my side. Just in the nick of time I got to the john, began the inevitable 'Oh my God', floating above the toilet seat because my *** is burning SO BAD, purging. One poor fellow walked in while I was in t he middle of what is the true meaning of 'Shock and Awe'. He made a gagging sound, and disgustedly said, 'Sonofabitch!', then quickly left. Once finished I left the restroom, reacquired my partially filled cart intending to carry on with my shopping when a store employee approached me and said, 'Sir, you might want to step outside for a few minutes. It appears some prankster set off a stink bomb in the store. The manager is going to run the vent fans on high for a minute or two which ought to take care of the problem.' That of course set me off again, causing residual gases to escape me. The employee took one sniff, jumped back pulling his shirt up to cover his nose and, pointing at me in an accusing manner shouted, 'IT'S YOU!', then ran off returning moments later with the manager. I was unceremoniously escorted from the premises and asked none too kindly not to return. Home again without havi ng shopped, I realized that there was nothing to eat but leftover chili, so I consumed two more bowls. The next day I went to shop at Albertson's. I can't say anymore about that because we are in court over the whole matter. Bastards claim they're going to have to repaint the store.

Bird Poops in Reporters Mouth

2008-02-10T20:47:00.001-05:00

Painter Surprise

2008-02-04T13:30:00.001-05:00

Story: I was visiting a friend in NYC and he happened to live in Washington Heights. We went to a great Indian Place where I loaded up on the Murg Tikka Masala. I had to hold in an explosion during our walk back to his place. I was not feeling well to begin with that day, and it certainly was hard for me to hold my fudge after the Indian dinner. I did not want to go up into this guy\'s apartment and launch a colon blow in his bathroom, because it would have been loud and horrific, so I said I was going to get going and finish my drive home. I said goodbye and went downstairs. But I could not hold it anymore - I looked for a bathroom and could not find one - I ducked into a stairwell where there was a ladder, and some painting equipment, including those orange 5 gallon \"Homer Buckets\" from Home Depot. I took a bucket which had some drying white paint in it. I squatted on the bucket, and let forth the worst spray of semi-solid fecal matter I had ever seen up to that point. I was proud of myself. I used a few painter\'s towels to wipe, deposited them in the bucket on top of my poo, and walked outside, got in my car and traveled home. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when the painter came back to work that next morning... The Phantom Pooper

Whopper Freakout - Burger King

2007-12-15T15:02:00.000-05:00

The Drug Test

2007-12-07T07:52:00.000-05:00

I had just graduated college, so I began looking for a job in my career field. I have always smoked herb, so I was nervous about the drug test. Luckily, the local head shop had a "guaranteed" formula that could mask any chemicals that might still be in my system. The morning of the job fair, I drank two bottles of very foul tasting thick liquid. My stomach began to rumble, then bloat, as I was driving. It got so bad I had to loosen my belt and undo my pants. I knew I couldn't ignore the inevitable anymore. I stopped at the next fast food place. I had to walk in with my pants undone; fortunately my shirt was long enough to keep me covered. I took a cursory glance at the menu as I walked in and then made straight for the bathroom. I'm a germ freak, but I knew I didn't have time to put down the toilet paper barrier. So I dropped my pants, leaned over, and unleased an unholy carpet bomb of explosive diarrhea that blanketed the toilet, the handle, and portions of the wall and floor. To this day, I still feel guilty about the poor kid who had to clean up that putrid mess. Needless to say, the "guaranteed" cleaner only cleaned my colon and I failed the drug test.

Melted candy bar or poop?

2007-12-02T10:20:00.001-05:00

I went to a crappy party this weekend and the host had a game where she melted candy bars and made people guess what kind they were. Drop a comment with your guess.

Andy Rooney Talking about Poop

2007-11-29T08:31:00.000-05:00

Andy Rooney has a few things to tell you about poop. From our friends over at Goyk.com
Andy Rooney talks about poop
CLICK HERE TO WATCH VIDEO

Simpsomaker - become a Simpson Character

2007-11-28T08:24:00.000-05:00

I'm sure everyone has seen this Simpson avatar maker but I just want to be able to say it's on my website.

Count the FCC Violations

2007-11-28T08:04:00.000-05:00

A Sesame Street spoof featuring the Count......at least I hope it's a spoof for the sake of children everywhere.

Homeless Dude Takes Shit in the Mall

2007-11-26T08:18:00.000-05:00

Wow....this is gutsy. The dude just poops where he wants.

Disgusting Farting Bunny

2007-11-22T10:46:00.000-05:00

Disgusting farting bunny. Does thing appear to be the size of a dog or am I stupid? Please confirm.

The Farting Bunny

Blues Clues Singing about Poop

2007-11-22T08:19:00.000-05:00

I can't believe someone took the time to write this shit. (Pun!)

First Video Poop Story Submission

2007-11-21T07:36:00.000-05:00

Today we received our first video poop story submission! Recording a video of yourself telling a poop story takes some bowels. The story starts about a minute into the video.

The Shit - a funny cartoon

2007-11-21T06:51:00.000-05:00

A shit story cartoon. We've all been there!

Taiwan's Toilet Theme Restaurant

2007-11-20T09:26:00.000-05:00

The idea is funny but who the hell would eat there? I run this site and I probably would not. Taiwan's Toilet Theme Restaurant

Japanese Pooping Cartoon with Subtitles!

2007-11-19T10:28:00.000-05:00

This is the funniest video I have seen in a while but be careful where you watch it. Some of the subtitles are quite descriptive.

Poop Destroys Bridge

2007-11-19T09:29:00.000-05:00

No shit! The news source was Yahoo but since I found it on -am-bored.com I thought I would link through them. Sorry for the double click! Poop Destroys Bridge

How to Poop at Work

2007-11-18T08:16:00.000-05:00

Written directions from our friends at Yikers.com

Home Depot Disaster - So close, yet so far

2007-11-16T10:10:00.000-05:00

Man, this was without a doubt the most embarrassing moment of my life. What made it worse; I was shopping with my dad at the Home Depot when this happened. Last weekend my dad and I were out and about looking for lumber for our yard shed. While looking at several lumber selections and talking intently with the sales rep, I have to go use the men's room to have a BM. As I temporarily excuse myself from Dad and the sales rep, I can feel my bowels churning and getting ready to release a large load (mind you this has been building up for several days, but I never felt constipated). Wouldn't you know, I walk into the men's room and the only two stalls are being used! Man, what were to odds? So, I'm patiently waiting and waiting, as the churning in my bowels is getting more intense. This went on for almost ten minutes. Dad walks in and casually says he's going to pee, but he wanted to know what was taking me so long. I simply nodded that I needed to use a stall and he got the message. Dad could see they were in use. After Dad did his business and left the men's room, I walked out with him and I asked him if he knew of any other men's room at the Home Depot. He thought this was the only bathroom there. Then, not being able to hold my bowels any longer, I let out a rather loud fart, squatted and began to unload in my pants. Dad seems a little embarrassed by what I was doing - but he laughed out loud and said, "Push hard and go for it!" At least he wasn't pissed at me for taking a huge crap in my pants just outside the men's room. It did feel great to finally relieve myself but I was beat red from embarrassment. Dad said he could smell my poopy pants, as he started examining the seat of my pants by feeling and mashing the lump just like he did when I was a toddler in diapers and rubber pants. Dad commented about my poop feeling mushy and not solid and asked what I had for dinner the night before. I was so mortified I couldn't remember! I just wanted to leave and go home and have my poopy pants changed! By now the smell was getting very intense and it was obvious that I had just pooped in my pants. As we were leaving the Home Depot, you could see peculiar looks on people's faces, as we walked out. On the drive home, I'm sitting in this huge, mashed load in my pants and I knew my underpants were ruined. We get home and Dad wanted to get me changed immediately. He took me upstairs into the bathroom, unsnapped my jeans and had me step out of them. Surprisingly, they weren't too messy. My briefs were very messy especially around my butt. You could see the mashed poop oozing through my briefs. Dad carefully pulled down my briefs, as I managed to step out of them carefully without getting poop anywhere. He rolled up my poopy briefs and put it in a plastic bag to be thrown out. He wiped most of the remaining poop off my butt with toilet paper and wipes. After he was done he gently slapped my butt and said, "Okay, kiddo! In the shower you go!" I took a nice, long hot shower and cleaned myself up. After I showered, I thanked Dad for being a good sport about this. Dad winked at me. Yeah, I'm lucky to have a very understanding dad. However, this is one event I hope I NEVER have to endure again!

Phantom Pooper

2007-10-19T09:19:00.000-04:00

It appears there is some sort of "Phantom Pooper on the loose in Idaho. Here's the article.

The Standing Box

2007-10-11T08:20:00.000-04:00

I felt in my spirit since my Mom’s death in January that the Phillies were destined to reach the playoffs. I had no idea it would happen in such a dramatic fashion. The Mets’ collapse this season reminded me of another amazing downfall: the Phillies’ in 1964. The story I am about to share took place in the fall of 1964. LBJ was President, and New York hosted the World’s Fair. This column is not that dreadful baseball season, though it is about something that happened to me that fall. It was, of course, and will remain a far less known event than those others. It happened the second week of September. I had just turned ten, and with autumn’s arrival I enjoyed going back to school. In our special education unit we had the basic reading, writing, math, phonics and more. We also had physical and speech therapy. Part of the physical therapy for some of us was the “standing box.” Those who needed it would spend about half an hour each day in the box, with leg braces locked at the knees. While in the standing box you could do your class work. I liked to read in the standing box. It helped me to pass the time. I also liked to do word searches and crossword puzzles. The standing box was a great way to stretch one’s hamstrings, as the reading and word games were good for stretching the mind. Like many physically disabled people, since my childhood I have had bouts with constipation. Occasionally, I don’t go for days. At such times, Mom or Dad would give me what I, as a child, called a “shit bomb” — though not to my parents’ face. A DAY I FOUGHT MOM AND WON Mom woke me early that morning. “Billy, you haven’t gone to the bathroom for days. It will be at least an hour before your brothers and sisters get up. I’ll give you a suppository.” I fought Mom. “No, I will be fine.” In truth I feared having Mom place something foreign up my butt. Mom sensed my discomfort. She asked, “Would you like to stay home? That way if you need to go, I can wipe your fanny.” Mom was not gentle about wiping rear ends or noses for that matter. It was not a pleasant thought. I turned her down. “Son, remember to ask Mrs. Barns (not her real name) if you have to go.” I just waved as I got on the bus with its hydraulic lift. It went without saying, given the options Mom presented to me, that if I messed my pants that day, Mom would have a long session taking her egg-turner to my bare bottom. I made it to lunch without a problem. Then, I found that Mom had filled my thermos with prune juice. Lunch started at 11:45 and ended around 12:15. By 1 I was dying. The prune juice was doing its job. My rear rumbled. I thought if I stayed in the wheelchair I would prevent the inevitable eruption in front of my classmates; after all, I hadn’t had a B.M. for three days. I recalled Mom’s words, “If you need to go, ask Mrs. Barns.” Mrs. Barns was the Teacher’s Aide and a Registered Nurse. Still, being a ten-year-old, I felt uncomfortable about having to ask someone outside my family to wipe my bottom. I would have succeeded too had it not been for our physical therapist Mr. Ben Oak (not his real name). Mr. Oak placed me in the standing box (see picture below). It was about a quarter past one. The class was playing a word game. It was a game at which I generally excelled. But on this day, I couldn’t concentrate. I was very uncomfortable. Our teacher would put a long word on the blackboard, and we students had to get as many words as possible out of it. We would write our list on a yellow legal pad. Around 1:30 I erupted. I attempted to squeeze tight. But nothing could stop the volcano. Embarrassed, I whispered to Mrs. Barns what happened. Mrs. Barns phoned my folks. Mom woke Dad, who had just come home from work. Dad picked me in up in his station wagon. He was silent on the drive home. Though nothing leaked, the front seat where I sat smelled like crap. As Dad carried me into the house, I yelled, “I am sorry, Mom.” There was no response. Dad laid me on the living room carpet to take my braces off and undress me; I was then taken into the bathroom. The smell nearly made me sick. When Dad finished bathing me, he put my Phillies pajamas on me. (I proudly wore Jim Bunning’s number 14 on my back.) Dad put me into bed and closed the door. I didn’t have dinner that night. After supper Mom came into my bedroom. She began our long talk with these words, “if I had given you the suppository this morning, smacked your bottom before putting on the toilet, I could have prevented this mess…I will remedy that right now!” Before Mom said another word she picked me up, tugged my Phillies pinstriped bottoms down to my ankles and placed me across her lap and blistered my fanny with the egg turner. I have no doubt my backside was pink or red. I probably lied on my stomach that night. I also have no doubt my butt was throbbing. The only other things I recall of what Mom did that night were these words which she spoke to me: “by allowing others to help you, you help them to work out their salvation with God.” Mom had told me this many times; but that early fall evening, I heard and understood! I also know I’ll never forget Mom’s words! They have empowered me to ask for help when I’ve needed it. I also know Dad had to air the braces out for sometime! I prayed for Mom’s intercession throughout the 2007 baseball season; though the Phillies didn’t make it past the first round of the playoffs, I know those prayers have been answered in a powerful way!