Too festive for Friday night

I've been dating Ricardo, who like me is in the financial services industry, for about three months now. So many friends say we make a great couple and since we are both approaching 30, they have hopes that our relationship will continue to progress. While I've had my suspicions, being at a yard party with him after work on Friday evening has just confirmed them: he has a fear of crapping away from home.

I drove us to the party which was about 45 minutes outside our city. I picked Ricardo up at his bank at 6 p.m. He tried to get me to go five or six miles out of my way to swing by his apartment, but with the price of gas and the fact that we were already running late, I didn't buy his excuses about wanting to change his clothing. I wasn't going to change and I told him to just take off his coat and tie and leave them in my car. Ricardo seemed to make up another lame excuse about swinging by his place, but I wouldn't buy it. We got to the party about 7:30 p.m. and stayed for about five hours. There must have been more than 100 there at the peak, because this was at a really stately older house, there was only one small bathroom. Because I was driving, I paced myself on the drinking and I only had to use the bathroom once. I must have waited about a half hour in the hallway line and toward the end, sat against the wall on the hallway floor. The three people right before me were so drunk they didn't flush and the guy immediately before me of course didn't raise the seat. I just hate having to clean up for someone else, but luckily I found additional toilet paper in the cabinet for that purpose. Then I flushed, sat down, released my pee, flushed and washed my hands. The lady who was next in line accused me of flushing four time and taking too much time. She said the was peeing into her thong. I didn't say a word to her because she was so drunk she wouldn't have understood anything I said anyway.

At about 12:30 a.m. just before we were ready to leave, I went back to the bathroom again. No line this time. Door open. I got my hopes up but as soon as I entered the room I recognized the drunk lady from earlier; now she was passed out on the stool with one of her legs over the side of the bathtub.

So as Ricardo and I were walking out to my car, I told him about the bathroom situation. After I complained about the drunk lady, he admitted he had been holding his crap all afternoon at the bank and of course at the party. I couldn't believe he abuses his body like that and told him he should have gone at work or, at the least, right after we arrived at the house before the line got too long. It was obvious that the combination of food and drink was starting to activate his bowels even more. I got to thinking about our limited options of finding a bathroom at that time of the morning, but about five minutes later as I drove out of the neighborhood, I vaguely remembered attending a softball game several years ago in a large park not too far away.

I made a couple of wrong turns--alright a few more than that--but we eventually got to the park. It was closed off with a chain lock on both of its main drives. Ricardo was starting to complain more about his crap and his fear of messing up his suit pants. A couple of farts interrupted our conversation as I parked and we walked into the park. He tripped a couple of times. Perhaps it was because of the really ragged ground and high grass and weeds that probably had not yet been cut this season. Perhaps it was because of the number of drinks he had consumed. I was surprised he hadn't needed to pee. We walked for the eqivalent of two blocks to where the picnic area was and from a dim street light swinging in the wind, I could see the small toilet hut. I told Ricardo there would be a chance it would be locked. He said with his slurred speech at the had gone to church the last several weekends and deserved the break. And he was right.

As we walked toward the guys' door, I got to thinking that I should probably go in with Ricardo because of his condition and because there would be no lights available. So I decided to lead him into the ladies room. It was a one-staller and the door had been taken off the stall. We could vaguely see the outline of the one partial stall from the illumination from the moon and I was walking behind Ricardo when there was a collision and he immediately blurted out "Mother######" and grabbed his crotch. He had walked into the corner of the sink.

I walked to the stall, made sure the seat was down, and asked Ricardo if he needed help in dropping his suitpants and underwear. I grabbed the seat and pulled it up and down a couple of times so he could hear how close he was to it as he backed into the partial stall. He dropped his drawers all the way to the floor and I helped direct his butt onto the seat. Within a second or two of his butt making contact with it, a fierce slew of shit was blasting out. After the first phase, I heard him push harder and then again swear because he hadn't tucked his organ into the bowl and was splashing some pee into his underwear and suit pants. He was kind of fumbling with it, which I found kind of amusing. However, I knew that based on what he had consumed, he was performing pretty well. As he splashed more crap into the toilet, I asked him how long it had been since his last bowel movement. I think he said about four or five days. I told him he should get to feeling better about using the bathrooms at his bank, but I don't think that fully communicated with him.

I took his hand which was now holding his penis into the bowl and placed it on the toilet paper roll. He started pulling some off but I wasn't sure he was going to be able to wipe himself. However, he stood, took about five swipes at it which I heard connecting with his butt, but Ricardo was dropping them onto the seat rather than into the stool. I reached around him and flicked them in. As he got his pants back up, I reminded him about the sink and asked him to move out of the way because my pee was started to burn me up like crazy. I lowered my pants and underwear and the pee came out of me with the same speed the poo did out of Ricardo. He complimented me on my stream and I told him that was one part of it, because I had peed a couple hours earlier at Judy's party.

I know I have some "work" to do with Ricardo. This idea of holding your excretory needs in worries me, especially in a man whose almost 30. What advice can you guys offer?

Stitica Laura

Last poo

That's how my last poo (yesterday) was:

Place: at home (parents had left)
Day: Sunday 5th June
Started: 11.49
Finished: 12.23
Degree: 6 (as usual, the first part was difficult, it was rock hard and knobby, but the end of the log was rather smooth, which is not the usual thing). Just one big log instead of the usual two ones.

I am constipated. Some people wear glasses, have toothache or migraines. I am constipated, that's my thing, I accept that I have to live with it. I have a very tough time going to the toilet, my hemorrhoids sometimes hurt, that´s it. I have never taken laxatives, never will. I have been given an enema a few times at the hospital when I spent more than a week without a BM, apart from this I don't want them. I had my colon checked some time ago, no signs of serious illness, just a chronic constipation I have to live with

Regards to all


Privacy (or lack of)

Bob from Chicago: you are not alone, and nor was it always just the Army who did this.

My wife went to a large primary school in west London in the early sixties. The girls lavatories had no partitions between the toilets - it was just one long room with twelve or fifteen toilets. In her last year at the school (aged 11) she was made a prefect and part of her job was to supervise younger girls using the toilets...

Brandon T

comments & stuff

To: DNA great story about you peeing your pants while trying to get that bat out of your house and as always I look forward to your next post thanks.

To: Caryl Marie great story about you pooping and your friend Francine having a desperate pee at that stadium and as always I look forward to your next post thanks.

To: Stitica Laura first welcome back and great story about you pooping at the mall and I look forward to your next post thanks.

To: Leanne great story about you and your friend Clare pooping and also hearing that other farting and pooping as well and as always I look forward to your next post thanks.

To: Natalie X it sounds like you got lucky next time it would probaly be a good idea to try and go before you get to work that way a situation like that will be less likely to happen and as always I look forward to your next post thanks.

To: Abbie as always another great story about you and your friends pooping together and watching eachother it sounds like you guys had lots of fun and as always I look forward to your next post thanks.

To: Wendy & Kirsty it sounds like you both were having a pretty nasty day poop wise which brings me to a question im know if this has been asked before oh well but have you both ever have had diarrhea at the same time and how did that work out toilet wise did try a buddy dump or did one of you use the bathtub please share the story and as always I look forward to your guys next posts thanks.

To: John great story about seeing and hearing that girl pooping and I look forward to anymore stories like that thanks.

To anybody who interested NBC has a new dating coming out on june 29 its called love in the wild or something like that I cant remember right now it takes place in a jungle which means there might be some outdoor bathroom stuff.

To all the shy bathroom people out there I have some ideas for you to help you over come your shyness or least make you less shy

1. Just remember everyone poops, pees farts burps etc some more then other but thats okay were human.

2. Try to joke about like if someone complains about the smell just say I wont eat that again or I wouldnt go in there for awhile but say it with a laugh that way the people saying it wont get the satifaction of knowing they got to you.

3. Just ignore everyone else and pretend they arent there.

I hope these ideas help

Sincerly Brandon T

PS. I love this site


How Poor Wiping Habits Can Ruin a Wedding

From a Scotish newspaper...

A FUMING bride DECKED her kilt-wearing hubby when he sat on her knee
a left a SKIDMARK on her wedding dress!

Like all true Scotsman, Angus McLure, 26, didn't wear pants under
his kilt when he married sweetheart Sarah Grant in Greenock, Renfrewshire.

But his traditionalism led to uproar when he perched his poorly-wiped
backside on 24-year-old Sarah's pristine frock, leaving an usightly smear.

After Sarah swiped at Angus, the well-refreshed McClure and Grant
clans led the reception into bloody mayhem.

A police source said: "I've been a police officer in Greenock for 20 years and so I've seen a lot of wedding parties turn nasty but this was something else."

In total seven people were arrested in the grounds of the wedding venue, Greenock Reformed Temperance Hall, and face public order offences.

It's believed that Agnus and Sarah were reconciled when they sobered up, and have no memory whatsoever of the melee.

Tuesday, June 07, 2011

Just a Guy

A quick story

One time when I was 13 years old, I went on vacation with my family to France. The first time I had to pee, I peed into the urinal in the bathroom. I mentioned to my dad later that the urinal in the bathroom was weird. He almost busted up laughing, but managed to compose himself and explain that was a bidet and what it's for. Boy was I embarrassed after that...

For Eileen H:
Some of my favorite euphemisms for pooping are, in no particular order, "pinching a loaf", "making brownies", "dropping a grogan", "releasing the beast", and "exorcising my demons". A popular one is "dropping the kids off at the pool" or I sometimes hear specifically the Cosby kids mentioned.


Car Mom

Sorry just noticed I hadn't scene any stories from Car Mom lately and thought I would ask and see if you are still around or if you have bailed on us again?? Hope to hear from ya soon. Happy Peeing

To Samuel J: That was a nice story, you sound like a very nice caring guy and she's lucky to have you. Some of the best relationships are born out of awkward situations especially like that because you understand who you can really trust and count on.....kudos to you I hope it continues to go well

Now my quick story

The other night I was up very late doing things around the house, catching up on some TV series and having some drinks just relaxing by myself. My roommate works normal day shifts unlike me so she was up in bed already. Around 1:00 AM I took some trash outside and came in, I quickly shut the door going out and coming in due to the cats. About an hour later I was walking back into the living room and saw a huge bat flying around. I knew I had to wake up my roomie to help me get it out of the house. Getting the bat out itself was a giant scene invloving buckets and brooms, but every time the bat would come flying at me I pissed myself quite a bit! I think I only did that because I was fairly drunk by then, because although I don't love bats I'm not terrified by them. With every swoop I would shoot a hard stream into my gym shorts as we both screamed. By the time we got the bat out my shorts were dripping wet, I couldn't believe I even had that much pee in me. I had to take a shower and I threw my shorts into the laundry basket and went to bed. The next morning the whole basket reeked of pee and everything in it was soaked with urine.

Caryl Marie

Stadium experience

There are about 400 5th graders in my middle school. Although I transfered in second semester because my parents couldn't afford my parish school tuition anymore, there was a contest I didn't pay too much attention to and that was that the class was challenged to check out and read a certain number of books and score above the state average on a national test in order for all of us to get a reward. Our award was yesterday. We got to miss the last day of school and instead go as a large group on about 10 buses to a day-time professional baseball came at our city's stadium. All of our teachers went along with our principals and a few people from the school board.

The buses left school at 9:30 a.m. for the game that started at 11 a.m. Both me and my best new friend Francine (she posts here as Frantic Francine) arrived early and we sitting on the curb as the buses pulled up. We both wore tan shorts and the official shirts of our team. The shirts were required in order for us to get in free of charge. Francine said she felt she could do a "little wee" which her way of saying she's been taught by her parents to go in and try to pee before going on a trip. I told her if the buses loaded before she got back, I'd save her a seat. I got to thinking that I should have probably gone in with her, but then I got to thinking about how the toilets truly suck because the bathrooms are so huge, the toilets so dirty, and the pre-cut square of toilet paper are so repulsive to use. The principal divided us up by homerooms (luckily Francine and my schedules are exactly the same) and we boarded the buses. Francine came on, found me and our seat, and threw herself into it. I made a joke about her not bursting her bladder on the trip, and she started to tell me again how she just hates using the school bathrooms. I'm with her completely--they're gross.

It was about a half hour trip to the stadium and it was already hot on the bus, even with the windows wide open. There was road repair going on and the drivers had to take the long line of buses around it and through some really small side streets. The starting and stopping and bouncing on the bad streets made me a little sick to my stomach, but the worst came when the driver went over some speed bumps too fast and all of us got a real jolt. Our assistant principal had to get out of his seat and tell the driver to slow down. I saw the driver wave his hands around so I guess he was pissed.

When we finally got to the stadium, and got off the bus, the hot wind felt really good. Francine pointed to my crotch and said "You peed your yourself." I quickly looked down and could tell she was kidding, but I remember tell her she was lucky to have gone in and peed when she did. As we walked through the gate and and our assistant principal took us up to our seats, he stopped in one hallway and showed us where the bathrooms were. Both me and Francine looked at one another with the idea that we hoped we were not going to have to use them. Then he said that everyone was on the buddy system. If they went to the bathroom or down for concessions, they needed to have someone with them. He repeated it like three times and then made us recite it back to him.

The game started right on time. Our principal got called down onto the field and was given some kind of award for what we had done. Then he asked us to stand for an ovation. Several thousand people stood and cheered for us. Then the PA announcer put on some old song that goes "School's out for summer!" and everyone got really wild.

The game was really boring and at about noon I started feeling my daily crap coming on. I normally take it during my study hall before lunch. Francine was happy to go down with me because she too was bored. Both Francine and I had to stop and think about what the doorways meant because there were two different entrances to the bathroom. She led the way in. I have never been in a bathroom that big. One side of the wall had like two rows of 20 some stalls each and on the other side of the walls were the sinks. Some of the toilets were overflowing or leaking and there were drains in the middle of the room that were lower than the floor so that we water would run into them. We had to be careful not to step into them. About half the toilets were taken and in one it sounded like a couple of ladies were getting into a fight because they were cussing at one another. Francine led me way down to the last stall at the end of the room. She said we'd have more privacy there.

She pushed the stall door open and said I was not going to like it. I could tell by her voice that she wasn't joking. I wrote on Page 2034 about what both Francine and I hate at school and that's the pre-cut slips of toilet paper that are stacked in a container. We like to use the rolls of toilet paper so we can pull off sheets of it and place it over the toilet seat before we sit on it. And here we were with three containers of the squares on the wall and a toilet that looked like it was 100 years old with lots of cracks and stain in the bowl. I started by taking one of the slips and wiping the seat off. Then I tossed it in the bowl. Francine suggested that I do it a second time, which I did. I dropped my shorts, pulled down my underwear to my knees and carefully placed my butt on the seat. I don't know what happened, but I almost fell off. Francine told me to get off, partially lifted the seat, and we could see that the rubber tab on one side of the seat had been removed or fallen off. Therefore, it would touch directly to the side of the bowl. Then she dropped it and the seat was so loose I quickly wondered if it was going to fall off from under me.

I re-seated myself, but I was cautious about putting all my weight on it at first. After sitting for a couple of minutes, I started to let off about my usual amount of gas. It comes in several pops and I spread my legs and move forward a bit to get my crap to come out. Francine asked a dumb question about whether I thought I was going to be able to go and at that time I started splashing into the bowl. Some pee first, followed by a larger turd that went straight down into the bowl like a bolt of lightning. When I stood up to see it and show it to Francine, we were both surprised that it was standing straight up like a nail that needs to be hammered into a board. It was almost totally black and the top two inches was standing outside and on top of the water. I knew eventually we would get a whif of it. Of course, Francine was already faking that she could smell it. So I re-seated myself and started to pull off the pre-cut squares to wipe with. I average about 8 of those dumb things at school and Francine counted down the number I was using. I'm sorry to say it took me 16 because the crap was really soft. There was also one that I had partially used, then accidentally dropped into the stool.

Francine asked permission to flush as I was pulling up my underwear and shorts. I told her that was fine. I asked if she wanted to go since were were already in there and she said no because she had gone at school. Then we went to the other side of the room and she watched me wash my hands. Again, I told her this was a good opportunity for her to piss and she bragged about being able to hold it until the end of the game. I told her it was only 3rd inning and then she seemed surprised to find it was a 9 inning game. So we went back to our seats, but not before we stopped for hot dogs and a huge coke to share. Neither of us wanted a full drink because we were hoping to avoid having to use the bathroom. The problem, however, came at the end of 9th inning when the game was tied 0 to 0. Under professional rules, they then play until somebody scores. The boys were happy when that was announced on the PA system, but already being bored, Francine and I just looked at one another in surprise. By the 13th inning, I could see that Francine was starting to feel the pain of holding her pee in. Finally, she looked at me and said, "Let's go."

She was walking faster than usual, then picked it up to a run around a huge jam at the concessions stand. I had almost lost sight of her until I saw her tan shorts clear the door into the bathroom. I brushed around a couple of other students in our class and saw Francine run into the first open stall. She ripped her clothing down as fast as I've ever seen and didn't even take time to close and latch the door. I could hear her stream going as she was sitting and already crying. As she sat, I didn't see anything on her shorts and underwear which were all the way to the floor. The noise of her pee hitting the water was as loud as I've ever heard and I asked her why she was crying. She said between sobs that she was trying to hold it and "train" her bladder to hold more (something her mother recommended) and here she was using the filthy bathroom. Her pee stream continued for more than two minutes and I tried to make her feel good about how much she had held. Then she started with a whole bunch of cuss words about how she hates using public bathrooms, especially sitting on the seats. I handed her some toilet paper, she quickly wiped and started crying again.

Although the game continued for another hour or so, our group left after about 15 minutes because the buses had to take us back to school and then go make some other runs. Francine later apologized for making so much drama, but I do worry about her.

Back in the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of college, I was out with my buddy Mike running errands after a night of beer and pizza and some other foods that didn't agree with him. The following day, my buddy who played football for a Div 1-AA school got a SEVERE case of the craps and had already been pooping on the can a good portion of the morning in the throes of three MONSTER dumps WHICH I RECOUNTED ON Pg 1866. After Mike's 3rd really big dump at the mall, we stopped to fuel the car and I went to take a leak. Before heading to the bathroom, I told Mike where I was going and asked if he was going to be OK. (Meaning, did he have to crap again or could he pump gas?) Mike assured me he was fine, so I headed into the station to take a wizz.

As I was going, I noticed how the toilet in there was RIGHT NEXT to the urinal and I thought for a moment how totally cool (or totally hot!!) it would be if Mike were in there right next to me sitting on the toilet with his pants down bumming out a huge load. But then I figured I had already really lucked out that day with Mike and that my buddy just HAD to be all crapped out!

As I was finishing up at the urinal, I heard a knock at the door. The handle turned and the door slowly opened as I heard Mike call to me, "Greg, you using the toilet?? I detected urgency in Mike's voice as if pleading with me to PLEASE let the answer be "No."

"No. Why? You need to dump again??"

Just then the door whips open and a severely-loaded Mike quickly dashed in clearly quite desperate for the services of a toilet. "Yeah, I sure do..." he replied moving urgently toward the crapper. Mike was already pulling his pants down apologizing as he desperately prepped for yet another badly-needed shit. "I'm really sorry for this bro, but I can't help it." The look on Mike's anxiety-ridden face and the apologetic tone in his strained voice registered obvious humiliation and desperation as my badly-loaded friend, about to be totally overwhelmed by a shit, frantically unbuckled his belt and hurriedly unzipped his trousers.

With overpowering pressure from all the excrement in his loaded throbbing butt QUICKLY weakening him, a defeated Mike hurriedly dropped his pants in unconditional surrender and urgently mounted the toilet right next to me. It was not even an hour since the shit-laden Mike had bummed out his 3rd really major dump that day, yet here he was again, overwhelmingly loaded with crap, and weakened on the toilet, pants down in defeat surrendering yet again to another really major shit. I don't think Mike necessarily WANTED to give up and crap less than two feet from me but he was clearly beaten, no match for the awesome massive shit that had overtaken him. This was roughly 60 seconds after Mike told me he was fine to pump fuel and that he did not have to go to the bathroom! Talk about a quick reversal of fortune!!

Without other options, the impressive load in Mike's inundated butt pounding relentlessly, desperate need easily overwhelmed pride and decorum. Growing up sharing a bathroom with six brothers and years at football camps really helped the badly-loaded Mike out in this situation. Bumming on the toilet pants down in front of other guys really didn't bother the toilet-bound Mike too much. Having his bowels in such disarray and getting weak did.

Once seated on the pooper, his surrender complete, the beaten Mike blasted a thunderous huge bowl-splattering fart announcing his distress to the world. An instant later, it was off to the races as absolutely HUGE butt spasm took over rendering Mike helpless and sending the badly-loaded athlete into the throes of a shit. And I mean a really big mean nasty totally overwhelming SHIT!!! All sorts of soft loose crap, poop, excrement and shit came rushing out of Mike who could only sit there getting weak looking straight ahead with a look of helpless frustrated resignation, his turbulent bowels letting loose once more. My helpless toilet-bound buddy was so loaded, so weakened, so overwhelmed on the toilet, his monstrous load so massive & so powerful the defeated Mike had absolutely no chance of resisting it. The overpowering shit load just exploded out of the desperately-loaded young man as if it were shot from a bazooka.

"Uggggggghhh…. Oh Jesus!" My helplessly crapping friend moaned reflexively from the huge aggressive butt spasms as all the crap thundered out and completely overwhelmed Mike. The sound of large mushy shit chunks storming out of Mike's crap-laden ass hitting the water in a colossal barrage was both obvious and rapid-fire in succession. Too weak to offer any resistance to the massive devastating onslaught, the groaning Mike could only sit helplessly pants down rapidly filling the badly-needed toilet with shit. It was blatantly obvious that the badly-loaded Mike really needed to take a really major shit really bad. Really!!

There could now be no doubt but that the overwhelmed Mike was seriously loaded with turds and this truly major dump could well rival anything else I had ever seen him take. I could tell his major dumps were really getting Mike down emotionally as well as making him weak. As the last of the big overwhelming crap wave left his pooping young body, the weakening Mike was shaking his head and grimacing.

As for me, I was just amazed standing there gaping watching my incredibly-loaded best friend blowing up on the toilet being absolutely steamrolled by a big monster pants-down dump with nothing to impede my full view of the spectacle. No door, no stall, no divider, no nothing!! Just me and the desperately-loaded Mike bumming on the badly-needed toilet! I had been with Mike now several times over the past few years when he had taken a shit, but this was the very first time where I was quite literally standing right over him where I could see it all from the start. I would be lying completely if I told you I was not thoroughly enjoying seeing this virile, handsome fit young athlete helpless with his pants down relieving himself on the toilet in the throes of a great big bowel-busting shit right in front of me, or if I told you I found it anything short of completely amazing and arousing. I absolutely could not believe just how badly the weakened toilet-bound Mike needed to take a shit or how weak Mike was getting. Nor could I believe the sheer astronomical size of said shit. Sneaking a look at Mike's grimacing face with my peripheral vision, I saw his eyes were starting to glaze over and roll up in the top of his head as more and more shit rushed out of his body piling up in the badly-needed toilet beneath him, clearly a good sign the helplessly dumping young man felt thoroughly overwhelmed by his overpowering massive shit. The clear crisp audible sound of Mike's stools crackling out of his fit, muscular 19-year-old body and hitting the water in rapid-fire plops had me REALLY fired up. However, I got myself somewhat under control before the helplessly crapping young athlete could see just HOW fired up his incredibly massive dump had me!!

I then sneaked a bit longer look at the bumming Mike's long legs and feet. His bare thighs and knees were just slightly spread so that they were pointed at 11 o'clock and 1 0'clock respectively (with 12 Noon being straight ahead). Mike's white briefs were stretched around his muscular calves while his size 38/30 jeans were dropped almost completely to the floor just draped over his size 16 white canvas sneakers. Mike's feet were pointed slightly in the 11:30 and 12:30 positions and I noticed that the back of Mike's feet lifted up slightly and his toes curled up while bumming out his excrement, but were flat to the floor and straight during periods of respite. I stared at the floor for several moments at Mike's dropped pants as if mesmerized. It would be some time before the badly-loaded Mike would be able to pull them back up.

It wasn't more than half past noon and the helplessly bumming Mike was already in the throes of his 4th major crap of the day. Poor guy was loaded with more bombs than a B-52!! Seriously, Mike was dropping more huge logs than Paul Bunyan!! The toilet on which the groaning Mike sat so helplessly bumming his crap out getting weak was SO close to the urinal where I stood, the ONLY thing I would have needed to do to put my hand on my pooping buddy's shoulder or back while all that shit was thundering out of the badly-loaded young man would have been to just moderately extend my arm. Mike's head was now bowed as if in shame as more and more soft loose crap came gushing out of the defeated young man hitting the water in loud rapid-fire plops. If the weakened Mike was uncomfortable with me standing so close to him as he sat pinned down helplessly crapping on the toilet, he was obviously a whole lot more uncomfortable with how much shit was going through him in such a short period and how weak he was getting.

I wasn't sure what to do, but I had to say something. "You'll be okay bro." I began. "It's just a case of the craps and your body will eventually right itself."

"This is BAD bro." Mike objected, distress and frustration readily evident in his voice. "I've never been loaded with so much SHIT in my life. I wish I had listened to you about the beer and pizza last night. I'm really getting weak bro." (Reader's note: We later determined Mike and other family members had a moderate case of food poisoning from family meal the day before. Bad pizza and beer were NOT to blame for Mike's distress.)

"Hey. We live & learn. It's not like you're sick and throwing up. You've just had to dump a lot. It will pass." (I had meant to say Mike would get through the situation, not make a bad pun.)

At that, Mike's lean well-defined muscles started tensing in his neck, shoulders, back and rib cage as his undulating butt spasms started back up in force.

"Urrrggh… Oh God…"

Mike then started pooping again as a WHOLE lot of very soft loose crap came thundering out of my distressed toilet-bound friend in an awe-inspiring wave of semi-solid excrement that totally overwhelmed Mike and piled up in the badly-needed toilet beneath my helpless buddy with impressive speed and making the groaning Mike weaker from the effort. Feeling even more strength ebbing away, the bumming Mike could only sit helplessly getting weak on the toilet, shaking his head through the whole devastating onslaught and looking up at me with a look of helpless resignation in his pleading green eyes, dismay on his grimacing face readily evident. I knew this last overpowering crap wave had really punished the distraught young man weakening on the toilet real bad. The massive shit waves going through my distraught buddy were actually increasing in frequency and intensity and the excrement coming out of Mike was starting to sound even softer and mushier. I then made my way past the dispirited young man on the toilet to the sink by the door to wash up.

"I don't know if I can make it to the game tonight bro. I'm getting too weak." Mike finally said in resignation and defeat after the last of the most recent wave of crap left his weakened young body. Mike didn't even bother to look up as he spoke, his head bowed in abject humiliation. This most recent monster crap wave prompted the overpowered Mike to swivel around, find the lever and flush the shit-laden toilet.

"Oh come on!!" I objected. "We've planned this for weeks and it's the Yankees!! You can't just give up like that!!"

"What do you want me to do??" Mike returned. "This whole day is turning into one great big massive shit! I'm spending more time ON the toilet than off. I'm shitting my brains out and the only good that does is to make way for MORE shit! If I go down to the game like this, I'll spend most of the game with my pants down bumming on the shitter! And if the toilets are taken when I have an emergency, I'm dead! I've almost shit myself twice today already!!" (I never heard Mike use the word "shit" or a form of that word five times in a paragraph before, so he really had an unusual amount of "shit" coming out of him at BOTH ends!!!) ;-)

I heard the frustration in Mike's voice and he was right. This latest great big dump had come on with almost no warning at all and the desperately-loaded Mike had just barely been able to get from the car to the bathroom and get his pants down before being completely overwhelmed by a shit. Mike was already quite weakened from the dump he was having and each devastating wave of soft loose crap left the discouraged Mike even weaker and more run-down than before. Mike knew his strength was slowly ebbing away with each surge of loose mushy excrement that went through him and it frustrated the toilet-bound athlete not to be able to do anything about it. Mike's pants were down, and so were his spirits as he continued farting on the crapper while we talked.

"OK." I replied. "Here's what well do. The game is at 7. That gives us 6 hours. You don't have full-blown diarrhea (yet), but its close. Why don't you take some Pepto Bismol and a HALF dose of Imodium AD with some Gatorade to keep you hydrated? And you probably should have that with a couple apples." "Most of that sounds reasonable, but won't apples just cause me to shit more??" Mike asked. "Oh, eventually they will. But apples are great just for re-balancing your system."

"OK." Mike replied as I finished washing up. "At this point, I'm ready to try ANYthing. I just want to be able to stop shitting!"

I then walked out of the bathroom but left the door unlocked to be able to let myself back in. Mike continued to sit with his pants down farting, staring blankly at his white briefs stretched around his calves. It was plainly obvious there was still a whole lot more shit inside Mike and all the loaded guy could do was sit helplessly and wait for the next overpowering wave to evacuate his body and weaken him more. Mike is the kind of person who meticulously cultivated an image of having things under control. In this moment of helplessness however, the exact opposite was true. Nothing quite like a good bowel disorder to remind us of our humanity. In all the years I have known Mike, this was by far the most vulnerable I had ever seen him.

As I walked out of the bathroom, I left the door unlocked to let myself back in despite the risk of exposing the toilet-bound Mike to public humiliation. I figured if I saw someone walking toward the bathroom, I could warn them someone was in there before they walked in to discover the loaded young man on the toilet pants down around his ankles in the throes of a big mean nasty shit. I suppose Mike could have gotten up and locked the door himself, but he was quite weakened by now and looked as if this big overpowering dump had him pretty well down for the count, so my weakened buddy wasn't going anywhere until I got back.

The relentless dump continued to weaken Mike and really work him over, and sure enough, the next major crap wave to go through the helpless Mike was not long at all in coming. As I closed the door, I heard an exceptionally loud sharp fart resonate in the porcelain bowl. Walking away, Mike's huge undulating butt spasms returned in force to overpower him again, and I heard a lot more popping and crackling as the dismayed Mike resumed rapidly filling the badly-needed toilet with lots more soft loose excrement. At the end of the massive surge, I heard the overwhelmed Mike breathing heavily as he let out a groan/sigh of relief mixed with more frustration. Mike was REALLY in the throes of a toilet-busting shit and getting weaker with each overwhelming wave that hit him so I knew it was important to get his bowels under control.

I then proceeded to the main part of the gas station where I soon found the requisite Gatorade, Pepto, Imodium, and a couple Golden Delicious apples. I figured that ought to do the trick since it always worked for me. During this time, I heard still more loud toilet-resonated farts emanate from the bathroom where the helplessly bumming Mike sat pinned down on the toilet getting weak anxiously waiting for help to arrive. As I got the stuff, the loaded young athlete was overwhelmed on the toilet again with yet another overpowering crap surge. The crapper sounds were muffled since I was outside but I heard the shitter flush again leading me to conclude the pooping Mike must have pumped a whole bunch more stinky loose mushy crap into the toilet (weakening him more in the process) prompting yet another interim flush. That was already two flushes so this great big toilet-busting dump the seriously-loaded Mike was having was going to be at least a triple-flusher. I really didn't want to be a party to ending such a spectacular series of dumps. As I've said numerous times before, Mike always looked really hot sitting pinned down on the crapper pants down around his calves. And I would be totally lying if I said I wasn't thoroughly enjoying every moment of this monster toilet-busting dump being had by this young toilet-bound athlete. However, I could readily see and hear the pooping Mike really was miserable and demoralized in his weakened condition as more of his strength ebbed away with each overwhelming shit wave. I figured if I didn't want Mike to nix the ballgame tonight, I had better help him. (Note: Some of you may ask if Mike could have done all this for himself and the answer is an unequivocal yes. Mike is more than self-sufficient and a highly capable problem solver. Eventually, he would have either figured out he needed to treat himself or let the condition run its course. However, at the moment, I was thinking a bit more rationally while the weakened Mike was discouraged and caught in the moment feeling sorry for himself.)

After paying for the merchandise, I headed back to the bathroom to rescue the beleaguered Mike only to discover my struggling friend was still helplessly pooping on the toilet being thoroughly overwhelmed by a shit. Making my way back, the badly weakened Mike came under attack again from another relentless wave of soft mushy crap which easily overwhelmed the groaning young man and further sapped even more of his strength in the process. As I opened the door, I was greeted by the sharp crackle of a whole lot more soft loose excrement cascading out of the crapping Mike who just sat pinned to the toilet helplessly groaning with his face in his hands, clearly weakened by the dump he was having. All his soft mushy shit hit the water with several very loud splashes. The look on the weakened Mike's face and his body language told me he couldn't take much more punishment and that my toilet-bound friend just wanted to go home and stay there the rest of the day.

Even knowing what a big crapper the bumming Mike was, I started wondering where this seemingly inexhaustible supply of crap coming out of Mike was all coming from. Before today, I didn't think the human body was capable of producing so much crap in a single day, much less a few hours. I shouldn't have underestimated Mike. What was going on now was beyond just large-scale pooping from a prodigious young crapper. Mike was clearly sick now and needed to treat this condition.

"Hey Bro." I started. "I got you something." I then pulled out the Imodium and the Gatorade.

"Oh Thanks!" Mike said finally looking up even smiling a bit. "But you could have waited until I got out of here." Mike seemed more embarrassed about me seeing him in his run-down weakened condition than about me seeing him pants down and overwhelmed in the throes of a shit. Mike was badly weakened as all the loose uncontrollable crapping that morning had sapped much of his strength, energy and stamina. However, his spirits seemed to brighten almost immediately at the prospect of treating his bowel condition.

"I thought that might be a while!!" I replied laughing. Quite a while in fact!! "And, the sooner you take this, the sooner it will take effect."

I then opened the Imodium and broke a tablet in half which I handed to Mike along with the Gatorade. As Mike took the tablet with the Gatorade, I opened up several Pepto tablets which I then gave Mike to chew. Mike continued to sit on the toilet weakened, his pants down, but now at least he had his eye on the toilet paper roll.

"Thanks bro...." Mike began. "Say, do ya think I can bug you for another favor?"

"Sure." I replied.

"Well, I think I'm finally done crapping, at least for the time being, but this dry toilet paper is tearing my butt up and I'll be sore as hell if I wipe with it any more. Can you see if they have any Wet Wipes out there??"

"Sure." I replied. "Let me go check." I was pretty sure the station had them. Making my way back to the main part of the store, I quickly found the wet wipes and paid for them. By now, I was getting a quizzical look from the guy behind the counter who probably spotted Mike follow me into the bathroom, followed by me returning to the bathroom with Imodium and now buying Wet Wipes.

"It's my buddy." I explained a bit sheepishly. "He's had a nasty case of the shits today and he can't deal with the dry paper on the rolls 'cause it's making him sore."

The attendant didn't seem satisfied with my answer and gave me a condescending "Whatever" look. It kind of bothered me at the time, but now I don't concern myself with the approval of gas station attendants making $5 an hour. :-)

Anyway, Mike really needed to wipe his heavily-soiled butt so I returned to the bathroom with the merchandise. When Mike saw me bring in the Wet Wipes, he had a most grateful look.

"Bro!!!!" he beamed, "You are a LIFE saver!!" I noticed Mike had already drank down a full 32 oz. Gatorade so I suggested he get another one before we left. I'm guessing Mike was probably thirsty because all the semi-diarrhea going through him had left him a bit dehydrated. It's counterintuitive to drink more water when you have a lot of loose runny shit running through you, but that's exactly what you should do. I then opened up a package of wet wipes before handing it to Mike then walked out to wait for him outside while he wiped his bum. I figured I would leave while Mike wiped and spare him SOME modicum of dignity after being totally overwhelmed by a shit right in front of me. Since wet wipes are way more efficient at cleaning your bum than dry toilet paper, it only took Mike 5 passes or so to clean up before flushing and finally pulling his pants back up. I then heard water running at the sink so I knew Mike was washing up.

When a relieved-looking Mike finally emerged, he rolled his eyes and verbally expressed his relief. "Whew!!" Mike exhaled very deeply. " I hope that holds me for an hour or so!!" Mike was probably right. His pants had been down so much this day, they were started to get permanent creases! We had more errands to run and it probably wouldn't be too long before Mike was really loaded again and would have to find another toilet to bum on. But that would be then, and this was now. Mike had been really weakened by the dump he just took so hopefully, the Imodium would start to take effect before too long. Mike had just been completely and repeatedly overwhelmed on the toilet and I was worried that having another great big huge dump like the one he just had might finish the weakened young man off totally and sideline him for the evening. I had only given Mike half a dose because you only want to slow things down, not stop him up altogether. No sense replacing one intestinal problem with another.

"Are you ok?" I asked.

"I feel totally run down and probably couldn't bench press a can of coke if I had a spotter, but I'll hang in as long as I can." Mike had just admitted his bout of the shits had left him feeling weak, but he did so humorously which gave me renewed hope. He was already looking like he was feeling better.

"Cool! I think you're going to be ok." I had to say that for encouragement. "Tell you what. When we get to TSC, I'll let you chill in the car and get what we need myself."

"Thanks. But I would rather go in all the same. I hate sitting around and I may need to find a bathroom again real fast."

"No problem," I replied. "whatever is going to work best for you."

Before we left, Mike got another Gatorade to hold on to for the next medicine dose if/when it was needed. When we got back to the car, we had to finish putting gas in the tank as Mike had been unable to finish the job earlier due to an incredible need to take a shit which had overtaken him so quickly.

Did the Imodium and Pepto take effect for Mike or did he spend the rest of the day with his pants down around his calves?? Did we make it to the baseball game??

Well, the long and short of it is yes we did. I posted that answer back on page 1866. Josh (then 17) was NOT so lucky and ran into some drama later that afternoon and evening which I will post about later, but character limits preclude for now.

Be Safe,


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