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We had a barbecue last nite, and the dog lucked out and got quite a bit of it. The end result was a big ole pile of dog puke that I had to hose off the porch. The dog did come to me and let me know that he had to barf, and I was very happy about that because I didn't have to clean it up off the rug, but still, dog barf. Ew.
my honey wets down his teepee, too, quietmadness! hey, whatever works to get the poo out of his nasty man ass hair. oh, and he never flushes! he likes to leave his shits for me to find.
oh, the poo stories i have to this one time there was no toliet paper, so he just toke a shower too clean up. and of course, told me all about how the little poo flakes ran down his legs. and yesterday he was talking on the phone whilest peeing, and not paying any attention at all... the result was a huege puddle on the floor. at least he missed his shoes.
oh, and he wiped it up with my front of me...gross.
Reading these last few posts has made me feel better as I was horrified to discover shit marks on one of my white towels the other day. Asked the boyfriend if he "had noticed the stains on the new towel" and he looked at me like I was crazy. It does bother me though, as I am obsessively clean in the ass area and always use wipes. I bring up my love of wipes to try to get him in on it, but it isn't working at all.

And WHY for the love of god would you be leaving skids AFTER a shower? *shudder*
you know, i have to say i've had a pretty serious case of the runs ever since this shitstorm of a conversation came up...

really, i have. at first i was blaming it on barbecue i ate friday. now it's tuesday, and i still can't get my shit together.

it's probably all you guys' fault, what with your shit stories and whatnot.


but i have one thing to share: i just crapped out a pristine, almost entirely un-digested lettuce leaf. wild.
Hey - have you guys ever reads "Naked" by Deavid Sedaris? There is a hilarious story in there about a mysterious someone wiping their shitty-ass on the bathroom towels. The story is so effing funny. I was reading it on the train and trying not to cry from laughter.
David Sedaris has been coming up quite a lot lately. I just read Barrel Fever - LOVED IT!

I'll have to read Naked soon.

You ladies are much more patient than I would be. Those men are RUDE! Tell me you make them clean up after themselves.
Loving the poo stories-- mr. llamas doesn't leave skidmarks in his undies, thank goodness, but he has occasionally besmirched towels. To echo gilabat, how the hell does that happen?

Anyway, I have only pooed myself once in recent memory, but it was quite impressive! One morning as a freshman in college, I woke up, put on my bathrobe, and promptly dribbled liquidy green poo down my leg. Luckily my roomate was not there, but I did have to make a quick trip to the laundry room, which was on the other side of the dorm. Nothing like trying to be nonchalant with a handful of stinky laundry.
i don't post very often-

some member of my extended family used to throw used toilet paper (as in post-wipe) in the trash can instead of flushing it in the toilet at my grandmother's house. i used to beg my parents to find someone else to babysit me when i was little and they never could figure out why.
sorry, double post
OMG! This is the most deliciously nasty thread I have ever seen! I have lurked around here for awhile, not really having anything to say, but now...well.

My DH has a tempramental gallbladder, and about 5 years ago, he ended up in the ER, thinkin he was dying. By the time my 10 year old and I got there, they had already given him 3 hits of drugs, without much relief. He wanted to go home to be miserable in his own bed, so I helped him get up. That's when the poo hit the fan, (sorry, I couldn't resist). Mount St Richard exploded from both ends. He was bent over the waste basket, puking, while the vilest, rankest substance I have EVER smelled oozed down his jeans. I had to hold a wad of tissues over my nose to keep from joining him at the trash can.

Unfortunately, I didn't think to send my son out of the room right away, so he's been traumatized for life. When DH finally quit erupting, I went out of the room - a room that had a door, thank God - and called the nurse over.

Just approaching the room, she could smell it, so she wouldn't come very close. When I asked her for some kind of garments, she dug into a closet and came out with paper pants. I took them in to him and helped him out of his jeans. He threw his jeans, underwear, socks and his workboots all in the trash can on top of the puke. I was secretly thankful that I wouldn't be washing it all later.

Finally, he was ready to hobble out of there. When we left the room, I called the nurse over again, and apologized profusely for leaving her such a God-awful mess. She just looked at me for a few seconds and said, "Child, you don't honestly think I am going in there, do you? That's what we have housekeeping for!"

Thankfully, we've never seen anything that bad, since, knock on wood. But every once in awhile, he'll mention that he knows I really love him, having stuck around after that experience.
so, for months and months and months (i honestly can't remember when it wasn't like this) one of the pore-type things on my areola has been extra-large. like, sticking out at least twice as much as my other ones (you know how they're all bumpy anyways). so for a while i thought it was maybe just clogged, so every once in a while i'd try squeezing it, but to no avail. so, i resigned myself to having an extra-large bump on my nipple.
today, though, i noticed it had a scab on it (it's never hurt or been itchy or anything), and i figure, hey, let's give it another try. so, off comes the scab, and a very little bit of pressure later (i hadn't got to the actual squeezing part yet) and two blobs just pop out. upon further squeezing, out pops a third. the second two were pure white, creamy, and very squishable. the first, though, was odd. it was like, a ball, with the creamy white stuff inside and an outer layer of something slightly stretchy/rubbery. it was quite a fulfilling experience

though now i'm torn between wanting it to heal up properly and wanting to have this chance all over again...
I get those underneath my breasts, like in the crease- it's like a little ball of wax. I've never had the scab form though. It starts with just a slightly irregular looking pore, a little raised and whitish (but not inflamed or irritated). I'll squeeze it and this ball of goo comes out and it's bigger than the pore, so it really has to squeeze out, almost like the pore is giving birth to it! Once you've got it out, there doesn't seem to be anything else in there, it's very dry. Yeah, and it's sort of like a pod- there's stuff inside that has a different texture.

I get them a few times a year and they're very satisfying!
i had something like that in one of my nipple hair follicles, once. the most satisfying thing about it was that when i was checking it out, i pulled a little on the nipple hair in question, and the entire hair came out with a HUGE clump of goo on the end. so satisfying.

and yes, i have nipple hair and i'm not afraid to admit it. personally, i'm just hoping we can stay off the subject of poo long enough for me to get over this four day case of the shits...
oh. goddess.

not to beat a dead horse or anything, but i figured i ought to turn shit lemons into shit lemonade and share with all my grossies.

for the past several days, i have been shitting pure, unadulterated and virtually undigested vegetables. multiple times per day. huge salad craps.

i mean, seriously. i took a good look this morning, and saw COMPLETELY WHOLE DICED BELLPEPPERS (!!!) in there.

What. The. Fuck.

I thought salad was good for you. I don't usually eat much of it in the winter, but now that it's warm, I've been craving leafy greens and raw veggies like nobody's business. So I had a nice big salad for dinner Sunday night and another for lunch Monday afternoon.

Here it is Wednesday and I am literally shitting vegetation.

Is this some kind of sign of the apocalypse? Am I dying? Has 25 years of nonstop junk food caused my body to invert and only digest McDonald's french fries and Pop Tarts, whereas eating nutritious organic salads now makes me sick?

I'm really starting to worry, now.
bklynhermit, my poor pal. I am with you sister. I wanted to write yesterday and inform that after I pooed, and went into the bathroom sometime later, there were.. about 20 peas floating around. I swear I chew my food, but for some reason, out the asser it comes, undigested and in it's original form.
On another sickening yet lovely note, did I mention that when I pop my zitties, they make noise? I thought it was in my demented head, but the professional zit popper I pay, mentioned that she can hear my pimplies pop. Hahahahaha. I make her show me any good ones. She says I would make a fantastic esthetician. I am dying to get her to get on here and tell us some of her nasty ass stories.
OMG strangegirl! I thought I was the only one with someone weird (namely my own mother) who behaves like a bag woman. There was a root growing through the sewer line at my parents house that I grew up in, and if you used too much toilet paper, you would have to snake the thing to the edge of the earth. Well, no paper in the toilet,EVER. She had a little sign.. (this is so very traumatic), on the back of the toilet that told people we had issues and not to flush any paper. (Picture this.. three friends sneaking in my bathroom to smoke a little doob, and suddenly they spot the sign, uggh) Well, my freaks of parents moved from that house 3 years ago, and my mother still throws shitty toilet paper in the trash can. Damn dog goes in there all happy.
She asked me last night to take some trash to my house because the can was full, so she get's it all together and presses down on the bag... you have no friggin idea what sulfur, funk ass stink emitted from that bag. I am gagging and my mother get's hysterical laughing because I am sick from the smell. I had to take that bag and put it in my trunk and drive home with it. Glad I didn't get pulled over
haha! taracat, my zits make popping noises, too. especially the larger ones, with the really good heads on them. not sure whether they would be audible to someone else, though.

i think i am going to throw all reason to the end and get McDonalds or some other greasy fast food tonight. Maybe it will finally make me regular.
I can't bring myself to actually share any horror stories, but I can say that over the years I've learned to pay very close attention to even the slightest twinge of *gotta poop* feeling. I don't seem to have a 1-10 scale of 'no big deal' to '!!!dear god!!!" I have to take the initial warning as a level 8, because things escalate fast. I have no idea why.

I've stormed in and used the bathroom in a fascinating variety of places, from public washrooms that were more like crackhouses to one of Budapest's finest restaurants. Just last week I had to ditch my running group and head to the nearest gas station because there was no way I was going to risk making back in time.
Has anyone ever puked after watching their dog/cat puke?
I came out of lurkdom for this!
This is the best game...
Y'know what? After reading the most recent issue of Bust & talking with all ya'll, I can poo in public with no shame. I now shit & split. I may make a big production out of gathering the TP if I'm noisy, but I can dump in public. Sweet.

welcome to the shit & split club!
Frankly I'm shocked that it took you this long, Aural.You drop that public ass,girl.
Well, hell.

Since I had to have my septic tank drained, and a new drain field installed 2 years ago, to the tune of about 3 thousand dollars, I've made the family make the transition to not flushing so much of the paper products, too!

It is particularly gross, I'd say. But then, I scoop out the cat litter into that same trash can. So my trips to the dump are particularly refreshing, to say the least! (Thank God for pick-up trucks!)

Oh, yeah: I had a sore nose the other day. Every time I'd rub it or whatever, it'd just feel a little sore. So, I decide to look at it in the mirror, to see what's up. It's not particularly red, or anything.

I go to work on it, and the first time I give it a lil' squeeze, THREE separate, firm "eggs" just POP out. POW! POW! pow!

No pus, no weeping skin. Just those three orbs. And I didn't even have to squeeze, really. I can't figure that one out. There wasn't really even any swelling before hand.

Holy Mother, I HAVE to tell you all what just happened.
HB says, I have something brewing on my back and you are going to be sooo happy. I get some tissue, put him in position, and start to pop this enormous monstor on his back. He was squirming like a girl, so I moved onto one that wasn't quite so big.
OMG, When I tell you that it popped all over my face, that would be an understatement. In my eyelashes, hair, (shudderssssss..) on my LIPS. ahahahahaha. Even me, the most foul, disgusting lovin' creature, almost chunked it up. Now, did I stop, of course not. I cussed, ran, washed my face, and then went right back for round two. Out of that same pimply, out comes a splash of blood, all over my face again!!!! Now, I have virtually no skin left on my face as I have scrubed it all off. Wonder if all the gooey will make me get zits?
grosszilla- LOVED that game. My hand hurts from squeezing them all. And too think that he doesn't even flinch.
I did laundry earlier in the week and left one of my white T-shirts to dry on my bed. Since my roommate and I each have a black cat, I left the shirt inside-out so that if the cats slept on it the fur wouldn't show when I wore it. I picked it up two days ago, intending to wear it, and noticed a small smear of cat poo on my shirt where one of the cats must've either been bathing or, uh, not bathing carefully enough.

Needless to say, that shirt is back in the laundry basket.
Don't you just love it when pets do stuff like that, I love it when they puke on the floor at night then I get to step on it in the morning, I also love it when they make a point of licking their balls in front of the dinner guests.
mr. gb has a pustule that has been previously drained by him, has sealed itself again, and is looking to be needing draining again...alas, he wouldn't let me at it last maybe when he gets back....
I noticed that the drain in my bathtub was very slow, so I cleaned it out manually yesterday, using a bent coat hanger to hook onto the mess inside. OMG...WADS of slimy, black-goo-encrusted hair...absolutely DISGUSTING. No smell when I took it out (it was still wet), but I put it in the bathroom trash can and later when it started to dry it smelled like moldy death warmed over. I had to take it outside because the smell was making me nauseous...*shudder*...
That clogged drain thing happens to me when my
Brothers and Dad visit with their kitten-like mounds of back/chest/nose/ear hair.
My sink is still clogged.
Yes, from all that time ago.
Still clogged.
Wait 'til Mr. Lala opens that sucker up!
I've actually been holding it off so as to more fully savour the anticipation.
It is going to be rather fantastic!
Yeah, so I was browsing through the crowded bath product area of marshall's yesterday and suddenly let out this REALLY LOUD FART and one of the women in the aisle was so surprized she dropped what she was holding. I tried to play it cool but it smelled really bad and I was getting all these horrifed glares so I ran away giggling and then hunched over behind the men's ties, gafawing.
I just had to have my bathtub snaked. Sadly the dude did it while I was at work. He left a note that said he found a huge wad of hair. My thinking is that it must have been rather magnificent for him to say it was huge - seeing as how snaking drains is part and parcel for his J.O.B.. I wish I knew how to do that hanger in the drain trick. Where do you stick the hanger? Where the "tubman with the funny nose" lives or just down the drain?

In other mildly interesting news.... I was checking me out in the magnifying mirror and I saw what looked like some flakey skin. I had my tweesers so I pulled on it and I guess it was some crazy pointy pore plug because it left a deep hole about 4-5 times larger than any other pore on my face.

OH! my friend with the babies. Yesterday the 6 month old had what she called 'an amazing Poopsplosion' it went down his leg and squished clear up to his neck. THEN! the two year-old must have made a right, nice poop because while she was tring to clean the little one up the dog kept trying to get into the toddler's diapers.

So she was wrestling the poop covered baby while trying to keep the dog from eating the older baby's pants. And this is why there is a Mother's Day I guess.
The diaper thing is why I'm a regular on "child free by choice."
Oh my god, Jem. My mother used to do that in stores and then loudly blame me, during my "I can't be seen in public with my mother" phase. She cracked herself up doing that, and then when my sister got to be that age she moved on to loudly announcing, "My butt itches" and watching my sister squirm and walk faster away from her.
My mum and auntie were in a store with my then 2 year old brother.
They weren't paying a ton of attention (ahhh. the fifties) and he got away from them.
They were looking for him and asking for help when a couple of nuns(yes, nuns) pointed over and said, "Is that him?"
They looked to where the nuns were pointing and there was my brother, pants around his ankles, pissing into one of the lingerie drawers he'd pulled open.
My mother, horrified, turned to my auntie and very loudly said, "Have you no control whatsoever over your child?" and stormed off.
My auntie walked over, pulled up my brother's pants, closed the drawer, took his hand, and calmly led him away.
When she and my mom would tell this story, they'd both nearly piss their own pants and one would always choke out, "imagine the poor salesgirl who finally opened that drawer?"
Hellotampon & Aquagirl2 requested that I post some nastiness about my time as a hotel maid.

The sickest thing I ever encountered was a room where it looked like a murder had taken place. Until you looked a little closer & saw all the downy feathers. Pheasants. A group of out of town hunters decided to clean their kills in their room rather than get blood all over the barn. Four guys, each guy maybe between two & four kills. Bloody mess.

On to hotels/motels sexually. First of all there are little swimmers/vaginal mucosa on almost every available surface. You name it, people will fuck on it/jerk all over it. How do you get ejaculate on the ceiling? Really? Did he stand on a chair on the bed? Had the room been rented to Ron Jeremy? Once I found several orgasms worth of cum on the bottom of a desk. The guy had been there about five days & must have jerked three times a day. Only found it because I couldn't figure out why that area reeked of sex & some of it had dripped onto the carpet below. It was on the chair, too. My suspicion: phone sex gone out of control. Still, tissues, gents. Tissues. They're part of the room. Condoms just discarded anywhere; I've always thought it was polite to tie them off & trash them, but call me Emily Post. I forgot to write the chapter about leaving them on the TV, the floor, in a drawer of the bedside table, in the pillowcase, or atop the Gideon Bible next to the phonebook. Sheets soaked in lubricants, all kinds. Vaseline, copious quantities of hand lotion, olive oil & once something that smelled & looked like cherry Chapstick. It was too... waxy to be any kind of real lube. I didn't inspect the trash too closely on that one. I didn't want to know how many tubes it would take. Foodstuffs that had obviously been, ah, implemented. In ways that left behind STRANGE viscera. If you're gonna stick something up there, eat it, don't leave smushed strawberries & ejculate in your sexual wake. A variety of empty bottles that had been inserted, champers being the most popular. I don't care how much I like a guy, he ain't stickin' a bottle of Cold Duck up my ginch. My shit's worth at least Cristal, motherfucker. I think the tackiest thing was the time they didn't take their oily drop cloth with them. I brought in three other girls to help; we each took a corner so everything slid to the middle & nothing icky spilled out. I don't know if they were shooting a porno or what, but it was a mess. If I can think of anything else, I'll come back.

On the same note, women will do stuff in bathrooms that are unimaginable. 'Pons & pads galore even though the bin is less that a foot away. Blood on fixtures, all over the toilet. Trying to flush a pad (Who does THIS? It says on the box that they're not toilet safe.) & leaving pink, clotty water half inch deep on the floor & not putting down any towels. Unflushed waste. Peeing all over everything, not just the toilet.
omg, how do you stay in a hotel after that, aural? Or do you? The more I hear about hotel nastiness, the more I think my childhood friend's wack-a-doo grandma wasn't so wack-a-doo after all for bringing her own sheets and pillows to hotels.
Sheets are usually okay. The pillows & comforters, not so much. I usually request an extra blanket & bring my own pillow, though. I'm a drooler & I know where my pillow has been.
Yeah, I've heard that they usually wash the comforters about once a year. Also, I never walk on hotel room carpeting barefoot, or put any clothes I'm going to wear again (like a jacket) on the floor- those places are a dustmite haven!

There's also been a bedbug outbreak in some places. Gotta watch out for those, too, now.
I don't care how much I like a guy, he ain't stickin' a bottle of Cold Duck up my ginch. My shit's worth at least Cristal, motherfucker.

Word, Herc - when I read that last night, I laughed so loud I think I woke the neighbors. Brava, AP, brava.
*AP bows* Thank you, thank you. Next show is at eleven. Remember to tip your server & if you're gonna drive, dont drink & if you're gonna drink, don't drive. *AP exits stage left, house lights go up*
AP, you ARE going to write a memoir-esque book of short stories, right? jes checkin', 'cause I wanna read it
Personally, my favorite part was this: "Condoms just discarded anywhere; I've always thought it was polite to tie them off & trash them, but call me Emily Post."

Actually, Lucizoe, I'm aiming for a one woman show called "Speaking Frankly" or some such. It's funny when you read it, but my delivery & timing are top notch.

It's true, though, Hellotampon! Is it that hard after the post-coital glow to knot off a condom & pitch it into the bin? I know my legs can be a bit shaky after a good rogering, but I can wait fifteen-twenty minutes & be courteous. Just because it's not my home & there is a maid doesn't mean I have the right to be a nasty, nasty pig. It always made me wonder if these people's homes were disgusting.
Maybe some of you remember my disgusting boss with the wicked halitosis?? Well, I worked in a tiny office of a hotel in the sales department. I came into work one day, and the police are everywhere..... Wait until I say this......(ahem) We had been renting out a luxury suite for almost a week and a half, 9 FULL days to be exact, with a body inside the bed. OMG. I was in that room twice. I put a fruit basket in there, and then flowers. Some savvy little murderer cut a hole in the boxspring and shoved the body in there. I smelled nothing. Probably because I had to smell that bovine's breath every minute for 9 hours a day...eerrr. On a more facinating note, I did however take a looky peeky and I certainly smelled it when they wheeled it out in the hallway. IMAGINE, sleeping in there on a dead body, weeeeeeehooo. Horrible. No need to feel icky about it though, it was another murderer.
And here I always thought that was an urban legend or a friend of a friend story...
That's like the movie Four Rooms, with Tim Roth, Antonio Banderas, and others. If you haven't seen it, it's a movie in 4 parts- it all takes place in a big hotel on New Years Eve and Tim Roth is the bellboy. He has four "adventures" with some hotel guests and each segment is directed by a different director. In Robert Rodriguez's segment, which stars Antonio Banderas, Antonio and his wife go to a party somewhere and leave Tim Roth in charge of watching their snotty little kids for the night. The kids are really misbehaving (in fact, his segment is called "The Misbehavers") and getting into stuff and they find a dead hooker in the box spring of their bed. Hilarity ensues (believe it ot not!) That's a great movie! But I certainly wouldn't want to have it happen in real life! I'm going to start checking the box springs now!
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