Nothing but Shit
My best friend and I were going on a fishing trip in the gulf. It was my boyfriends dads fishing boat that we borrowed for the weekend to take with us to the beach. It all open and had one steering wheel right in the center of the boat, the weather was very hot so…
My grandmother suffers from IBS and is also lactose intolerant. She had to go to the doctor a few years ago, as all ladies must, and her general practitioner referred her to a specialist in Saint Joseph’s Hospital. I was fifteen years old at the time. My mother and I dragged her to her appointment. We informed the nurse of my grandmother’s delicate conditions and were told that the X-ray would be swift and painless. No barium? No problem.
I guess the nurse forgot to pass the word along to the X-ray tech, because he insisted that my grandmother drink the barium shake. He then sent her on her merry way, none the wiser to the severity of his actions.
We had only made it to the front door and to the parking lot when my granny grabbed her ass for dear life. She shot like a rocket back through the sliding glass doors, all the while projectile shitting through her bicycle shorts down the hospital runway. She started swerving in an effort to run faster, and I guess that just made it come out harder. In the end, she couldn’t hold the contents of her bowels back anymore, and she proceeded to litter the floor with squishy shit chunks in front of God-knows-how-many strangers, all of whom were staring at the scene as if they couldn’t believe what was happening. The smell was abominable, and the sound effects… priceless.
My mom screamed for me to go help her, and so I had to follow in the wake of her aftermath, apologizing to the nurses all the way to the bathroom. The hospital allowed us to leave through a back exit so we wouldn’t be seen. Since that day she’s done this again a few times, but never as bad.
Shitting as an elementary school kid is by far one of the worst childhood experiences. There is no privacy, people leave messes everywhere, and the toilet paper feels like sand paper. Going to the bathroom in school is a worse nightmare if you have health problems as well, and most kids do, from time to time. I had bad stomach issues as a little kid, in anything I ate would not stay down. I often threw and had bouts diarrhea as well. Looking back on it now, the cafeteria food was probably what kept me sick.
To this day I wonder how the hell schools can call what they serve food. Everything was so cheap, disgusting and microwaved. The chocolate milk had no real milk in it; it was more like a chilled chocolate stew. It all came to a head one day when I got so sick I couldn’t even walk. I stayed in the hospital till at least 3:00 AM and a doctor finally told me why I had all these stomach issues. I think he said a gastrointestinal disorder or something like that.
Anyway it was the reason I couldn’t keep stuff down. My stomach would reject it due to the blockage. They had to put this tube in my ass and suck out all this foam. The tube was clear and it was right next to me so I could see all the stuff going through it. It resembled the froth that comes out when you pour soda into a glass or when you open a bottle. When it was all over, the tube had a little shit stain on the inside from the waste it had just expelled. After that my ass muscles just let go, and I had to shit like I never felt before.
There was only one problem though; my dad said, “Look at the clock.”
It was 10:30. Then he said something I will never forget as long I live. He said, “You can’t go to the bathroom until the clock strikes twelve.”
I could not breathe after that – literally and figuratively – because the smallest move would unclench my cheeks, and they were clenched so hard at this point that they would have made fucking diamonds. To this day I still can’t believe how I made it through that hour. When twelve came around I
jumped off that hospital bed and went to work on that toilet.
I had barely opened my gown, but my ass started when I was still hovering over the seat. I tried to count to see if there were any solids passing through but no…it was all straight up liquid. I didn’t even get a chance to wipe both because it just kept going and going.
All this was happening while my parents (embarrassingly and amazingly) were right there watching. After it was all over I was actually scared to wipe. I needed a goddamn wash cloth for that abomination. After the procedure my stomach problems went away pretty much for good. That didn’t necessarily mean that I didn’t have a little trouble and then later on, though.
This led me to the worst school shitting I ever had. One day after lunch in fifth grade, when we were working on math lesson, I felt a violent force in my bowel. I had to hold my stomach because it was so painful, and I was actually writhing around in my chair.
Even though it was clear that I was in trouble, no one seemed to care. My teacher finally noticed me dying and asked if I needed to use the restroom. I ran for it and in that moment my ass said “fuck you”. And I shit myself. I still ran even though it wouldn’t do much good anymore. When I got to the throne I made a horrible mess that reeked for miles.
I had been in the stall for an hour when I heard footsteps and a voice. It was one of the kids from class; apparently my teacher was worried and sent him to see if I was alright.
He said, “Hey the teacher says if you feel bad go to the nurse, OK?”
”OK,” I said. After I cleaned myself, I got up. I was ready to flush and leave when a thought burst into my head:
“I can’t believe those fuckers ignored me like that. Now I’m gonna’ make them pay.” I left my mess in the toilet and simply walked out. When I returned back to class, I was greeted with an embarrassing question –the same kind from earlier.
“Hey Andy did it stink in there or what?”
An evil smile crept onto my face, and I replied, “Yes.” In my mind I thought, “It’s your problem now, asshole.” A little later we had recess, and as I was making my way around the playground I noticed a crowd had gathered around the restroom. I walked over and asked what was going on.
Everyone was like, “Oh my god it’s horrible. Someone made a hella’ nasty shit and didn’t flush. I think they even shit on the seat.”
I was like, “Gross. Who the hell would do this?”
One time I was desperately trying to land a lucrative project and landed an interview with the president of an oil field company, who happened to be a woman. She invited me to the company’s weekly Friday crawfish boil. I spent two days preparing what I was going to say and, since it was a long drive, left the house that morning without my usual three cups of coffee and a dump.
When I arrived at the crawfish boil I was impressed. I figured that a successful woman would have her office done nicely, and hers was nice. Ever seen an office bathroom with real hand towels, a chandelier, and decorated in gold with red roses?
I get ahead of myself. First there was the boudin on the drive down, the presentation, more coffee, and then a plate of hot spicy crawfish.
All the while I’d forgotten about not going to the bathroom. I guess with everything going on, the urge just passed – that is until it was almost too late. While sitting with one of her employees going over their computer system, the urge suddenly rumbled deep inside. The employee went downstairs for something, and since I was alone for a couple minutes, I leaned to one side and let slip some of the gas that felt like it was about to blast out. I only let a little out when I felt a wetness, and then a smell hit me. Jeeesh! Talk about foul! I was scared the stink wouldn’t dissipate before she came back and had to take care of the situation quickly.
I pointed a small desktop fan toward the area as I hobbled off to the bathroom, trying to hold the load in so it didn’t rush out down my leg. As soon as I locked the door I raced to pull my pants down before shitting in them. I barely had pushed them to my knees when it came forth with a mighty blast, one that could have easily been heard all over the office reception area. Hopefully, nobody was out there, but it didn’t really matter if they were, because the smell was bad enough to curl the floral wallpaper. Even the fresh flowers in a vase by the sink wilted.
My eyes were burning, and I swear I could see fumes rising up. They were strong enough to permeate my clothing, so I had to finish fast and get out of there. I left the bathroom with the exhaust fan running, closed the door and went back to the desk. I pretended to study the computer screen as she came back in the room, but I couldn’t help but notice that she stopped dead in her tracks when she approached the bathroom. She circled around the long way to avoid walking right past and sat back down. I was showing her something when after a few minutes she asked, “Did you see who went into the bathroom?”
I replied, “Some guy came up from the shop and used it while you were gone, but he left right away.”
She left to see the boss and they both returned after a few minutes. The owner peeked inside the bathroom carefully, like she was expecting to find a dead body on the floor. They muttered something between themselves, and within a few minutes a cleaning woman appeared and proceeded to scrub and disinfect the entire bathroom.
Once upon a toilet chilly,
Trying to crap, not play with willie,
There came a hideous frightening urge,
A scary monstrous need to purge.
I bowed my spine and bore down strong,
A dreadful turd a mile long
From my butthole did protrude
With guttural moan, both piteous and rude.
My sphincter now most raw and sore,
When will this hateful deed be o’er….
I now fear – ’tis nevermore.
Ten yards of paper scare suffice
To cleanse my ruined bung up nice.
It hurts so much I need some ice.
When will my shitting spree be done?
Especially now it’s getting fun –
Again I swear – Nevermore!
So clogging every toilet here
And charging frat boys hearts with fear
Could only be better with some beer!
I will not stop – I am no quitter,
I am Crap – The Ripper/Shitter!
My reign of doody I’ll not cease,
When oh when shall there be peace?
I will tell you – Nevermore!