I love desperate poop accidents
I turned to see him walking toward me. Sweet, sweet Jesus!
People have overcome much more dire circumstances. I just had to pee because I ordered my Thai food medium-plus heat and, therefore, I drank four glasses of water and a Thai tea. Do I deserve this?
I remember the way people stared and the way my dad made fun of him. There it went. Follow Us. Log in The Doe. Then I sat down. I cursed the stars. I looked back down at the toilet before leaving the bathroom, and the water was just circulating: my poops like little boats being sucked into a whirlpool. Log in.
Tales from the backside: poop horror stories
I told myself: I can conquer this. So then I did what I would like to have believed I could make it through an entire life never doing: I took some toilet paper, reached into the toilet and pulled my own feces from my boyfriend's toilet. Third flush completed, and this one single poop would not go down.
Then, before I could manipulate the situation, my boyfriend was kissing me whilst my own wet turd slowly soaked through half a roll of his toilet paper, and into my jeans. I was home for an hour and a half.
The confidence I felt just fifteen seconds prior dissipated, probably suffocated by the fumes of this stinky poo I just took. I cursed s plumbing. A few weeks ago, I was on a run.
The Doe is a media and tech company creating paths to improved civil discourse. I beelined for the front door, and it appeared that he was not in the living room after all.
So I tried to poop in peace and pride. I showered.
A very real thing. Well, by the time I got home, I somehow didn't have to poop anymore. If this sounds familiar, it probably is. My pride?
A short story about pooping my pants
I realized that I really had no other option but to flush a third time. At the time, I was adamant that I didn't want to defecate in a porta-potty and I was pretty certain I could make it home. Still nothing. I had flashbacks to being a kid, my brother running out of a restaurant bathroom, announcing to my parents' that he just had to double-flush his poop. The Doe Logo. I cursed this world we inhabit in which I could be best friends with my boyfriend but not in the way that it was okay for me to tell him about the massive, shitty problem I had in there.
A short story about pooping my pants
Women poop too! I waited for the whirling to stop and flushed again.
My feces now lie, unraveling from soggy toilet paper, somewhere in the block of South Ingalls. I pulled back and blurted, "Don't go in the bathroom!
My poop horror story: how i hid a turd from my boyfriend
I looked in the mirror, breathed in deeply, sucked my stomach in, and stuffed this slightly-wet, TP-wrapped turd down my own pants. Sweet, sweet grace!
This is going to be fineI thought to myself, but then the whirling stopped for the second time and one poop remained. I nearly hyperventilated, but then I thought: Fuck you patriarchy! Many of us have been there.
Then, I need to go to the bathroom. My hand was on the doorknob when I heard him say, "No kiss? We got back to his house, and I had some time to kill before I went to the school where I volunteered, so I went inside. I wrapped it in more and more toilet paper, trying to conspire some exit strategy for myself and that single shit.
I stood up and flushed the toilet. I wondered if he could hear my flushes from the living room.
Probably somewhere around there too. I fiddled around on the computer. I don't know if you've ever heard of the running shits, but they're a real thing.
I washed my hands. Well, maybe not pride, but at least not embarrassment. I went immediately for the bathroom, confident because who cares if someone—even a woman—pees?