15 Poop Horror Stories... I Can't Stop Laughing
June 24, 2014
BuzzFeed asked their members to share their worst poop horror stories. Here are the results...
Motion Picture Corporation of America
“When I was about 3 years old, I took my poop and smeared it on my mom’s mouth, saying: ‘Here, Mommy! Some chocolate for you!’ She told me she brushed her teeth and washed her mouth like 20 times.”
“I had my wisdom teeth extracted and was given hydrocodone for the pain. Little did I know, those narcs back you up; I didn’t poop for nine days. Finally, I became so concerned, I told my fiancé — he then proceeded to give me the biggest dose a person can safely take of his mom’s ‘fast-acting’ laxative/stool softener. I waited six hours and nothing happened. I was spending the night at his house, so we climbed into bed and fell asleep. Well, at about 3 a.m., I woke up and my bowels IMMEDIATELY began evacuating my body at a velocity I did not even know was possible. All over the bed, and all over my fiancé, who was still sleeping. I tried to clench my poor booty hole, but nothing would work. I hopped up thinking I would make a run for it to the bathroom, but the flow did not stop. It was like a river in the bed, on the floor, and on my future husband — and then I started to cry. Only when I started to cry did my fiancé wake up. I just flopped on the bed and curled into a ball, sobbing because I was more mortified than I had ever been in my entire life. The love of my life was innocently lying there, covered in a river of my nine-day-old shit, and he just started cracking up. That was the moment I knew that he must really love me, for better or for the absolute WORST.”
“One time, I was babysitting my little cousin who is 6 years old. She called me into the bathroom after she’d been in there for a while and when I walked in, she was stuck in the toilet. Somehow, after pooping, she fell into the toilet and couldn’t get out. She was in so good, I had to wait for my older sister to get back to help me get her out.”
“I once had raging food poisoning, and in the middle of about the third night, I had to run to the toilet and face the lava spewing out of me. I then realized I’d gotten my period. I got so upset at how evil this combination was that I started vomiting on the floor. I essentially tripled.”
“I had to poo at a friends home; I clogged the toilet, and did not want to make a scene since there were ladies there. I scoured the bathroom for anything I could find that I could use to dislodge the obstruction. I came across two straws, and combined them using the skill I learned from a previous episode of MacGyver(where coincidentally he had to dislodge some poop from a toilet with a straw before the building exploded). I then proceeded to stab at the clog until it was free. God that felt good to talk about.”
“I was going on a first date with this girl when I was in high school. We were going to this gourmet pizza restaurant before seeing a movie, and when we got there, I asked her what she wanted to eat. She said she wanted a pepperoni pizza — the only issue being that pepperoni goes right through me and gives me the shits like crazy. Well, trying to impress her and make sure she was happy, I went along with it and we ate almost the whole large pizza. We still had a while before the movie started, so we decided to go walk around the Target next door. We got to the back part of the store, as far as possible from the restrooms, and it hit me. Hard. It was coming, and fast. So, I slyly suggested we go to the bathroom and then head over to the movie to get our tickets. Casual. So, we start walking toward the front of the store (and my salvation), and at about the maternity clothes section, I realized I wasn’t going to make it. As I pushed the bathroom door open, my sphincter lost its long battle — I pooped my pants. So, I quickly waddled into a stall and very carefully took off my pants and underwear. Luckily, I hadn’t overflowed into my actual jeans, so naturally I just cleaned myself up and (I’m not proud of this last part) tossed my shitty Captain America underwear into the corner of the stall. Some poor Target employee had to throw them away. Luckily, she never knew what happened because I’m apparently just that smooth. Sorry, Target!”
“Once I ate a ton of grapes. Did you know overeating grapes irritates your stomach? I didn’t. I soon found out when I took a gamble on a fart and lost; I was horrified and ran to the bathroom. Unfortunately, I had to throw out my underwear and go commando until lunch time at work.”
“I was on a first date when my date decided he wanted to share his most embarrassing story. He was staying at a friend’s house in college and had to take a dump. The only bathroom that was open at the time was the master bathroom. He did his business, and realized shortly after that he clogged the toilet. He didn’t see a plunger, so he decided to use the obvious solution: Push it all down the toilet with his hands. And guess what — it worked! No one ever found out that he clogged the toilet except for me, on our first (and last) date ever.”
“Once I was enjoying some roasted peanuts — basically binge-eating them for a few days. Then, the shits started. It was like pooping shards of glass! Those peanuts tore me up for days and every time I had to poop, I’d cry a little because I knew it was going to be so very painful. This was two years ago and I haven’t had a peanut since.”
“My friends and I were hiking in the woods outside of school one day. All three of us really had to use the bathroom, so we split up from a general location and found good spots. I squat down and started doing my business, and I’m just about done when I look over and notice a dead, half-eaten deer. I’d say I shit my pants but they were already down.”
“I had just started a new job in Phoenix. The day before, I had eaten a whole tub of fresh mango that, in hindsight, was probably not all the way ripe yet. So I am at work and suddenly the shit sweats hit me. My body is screaming at me to pucker my butthole and hover my ass over a toilet ASAP!
So I slowly get up from my desk (bungholio puckered real tight because I was afraid of rogue sharts) and I do the quick walk to the bathroom. Not too fast because then my co-workers might figure out that I am about to shit myself, but not too slow because it’s coming out whether I want it to or not. I have about 47 seconds to get across the sales floor and into the women’s bathroom.
I get there. It’s packed full of ladies. Ladies not in the stalls doing business, but ladies chitchatting and primping in the mirror. GAWD! WHY!? My worst nightmare. FECK!
I dash into a stall and barely get my pants down before the explosion of poo-slime covered WHOLE CHUNKS OF MANGO came shooting out my ass. It sounded like a muffled machine gun fire coming from the fourth stall in. There was no denying what was going on to anyone else in the bathroom.
It was a wonderful first impression to make on all my fellow female co-workers. ‘Don’t mind me, I’m just the new girl shitting out undigested mango chunks, nice to make your acquaintance.’
I proceeded to do the ‘puckered-butthole-swift-walk-mango-machine-gun-shit’ four more times that day. It took me a good year before I was cool with mango again.”
“One time when I was 9, I was having dinner with family and friends when the bubble guts hit. I’m trying to be cool, but the storm a-brewin’ was having none of that; I puckered my butt and pushed my butt into the chair in hopes of smothering it. But nope — the pressure of me pushing my butt down actually made the poop shoot out like putting a finger on a garden hose. It shot up my dress and hit me in the back of the neck. I think I actually died a little that day.”
“I shit myself in a park on probably the third date with an ex-boyfriend. He offered to carry me the mile back to the bathrooms, but I wouldn’t let him within three feet of me. I was waddling in short shorts, and holding back tears for 20 excruciatingly embarrassing minutes. After crying in the bathroom and chain smoking for a while, he said to me, ‘Are you clean, or do you have to ride in the back of the truck?’”
“I’ve had a really quick trigger on my stomach for as long as I can remember. You see, when I eat something I shouldn’t have, I don’t vomit. After about 20 minutes, something dark and carnal will empty itself from inside me with a enough force to create fissures in the porcelain of the bowl. It never happens at a convenient time either.
Perhaps the worst time was during my first day trip in New York City. I was in my friend’s car, and stuck in traffic on the way toward the George Washington Bridge. I had eaten something kind of funky and then, like clockwork, I had to go. I looked out of the car window and saw that I was running out of city, and if I didn’t figure out something now I’d be well on to the bridge. I have pooped in very weird places, but I did not feel like pooping off a bridge in broad daylight.
So I sprinted out of the car, telling my friends I’d find them down the road. I started looking into shops but none of them were open. It was a Sunday, and I was in lower Manhattan. Finally, I saw a Chinese food restaurant and figured I’d give it a shot and beg for a bathroom. I got inside and realized that, no, it wasn’t a Chinese food restaurant, it was a workshop where people made the neon signs and menus FOR Chinese food restaurants. I begged and pleaded with the men inside to use their bathroom, but no one in the place understood English. Finally they understood my hand motions for ‘I’m going to shit myself in your store,’ and led me to the bathroom in the back of the workshop.
Then I snuck out after, and I found my friend’s car almost on the bridge and jumped back in.”
“At the tender age of 5, I considered myself king of the potty; I learned and mastered the seemingly insurmountable task. At the time, my family lived in Boca Raton, Fla., where our home backed up to the Everglades. While my parents had guests over, I excused myself and went to the restroom. I got myself situated and was preparing myself when out of nowhere, A FROG CAME UP OUT OF THE TOILET PIPE AND HIT MY BUTT. I screamed like a girl and sprinted out of the bathroom, pants and underwear at my ankles. The humiliation is something I came to terms with pretty quickly, but I’ve been a hoverer ever since. No place is safe.”
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