Stephen King made me crap my pants

Before you make assumptions, I wasn't frightened at all; but this evil heartless bastard still made me shit my pants.

Here's how it happened.

I was messing with the computer when I was suddenly hit with an urgent need to go to the bathroom and drop a duece. So, naturally; I went downstairs to the basement toilet, planning on reading a book which I had left down there earlier. It was one of King's books, a part of the Gunslinger series.

But the book wasn't there. I pinched my cheeks together, holding back the emmenant anal explosion that was begging to be set free. I desperately looked around for the book, but it was nowhere in sight. I had done a little laundry earlier, so I made my way over towards the washing machine in the hopes of finding the book.

And that's when it happened. The ass cannon had fired.

I gave up looking for the book and took care of business, cleaning my underwear and showering afterward. First time I have ever shit my pants. Fucking Stephen King.

And get this, after everything was over; the book appears as if by magic not far from the toilet.

You owe me a new pair of underwear, King.

I thought it was only going to be a fart

My butt had a message for me. It said, "I'm going to fart." So I leaned to the side and let one rip. What my butt didn't tell me was that the fart was loaded.

I was in a small office at work, thankfully one without witnesses, so I made my way down the long hall way to the back restroom that no one used and let the rest of it out.

But there was no toilet paper.

You would think paper towels would be more efficient at removing poop due to their texture, but they're not.

I just washed that thing!

What the hell?

I scrubbed myself down in the shower, made sure all of my parts were clean (especially the areas known to develope stink), and the moment I dry off my gut tells me it needs to let some shit out.

Now my freshly cleansed brown eye will spew forth a most vile filth.

And not having had time to dry properly, the toilet paper is just going to get flimsy and rip real easy. I'll have to take care.

Then I can flush and wait for it to fill back up before restarting the shower. Hopefully this time I won't have to shit again when I step out.

Random Question # 3

So when you eat corn and/or peanuts, do they reform in your stomach before coming out in your poop?

Down the tubes

I used to think automatic toilet flushers were awesome.

Then I had to poop one day at work.

I tried to avoid it, but I was passing way too much gas and my stomach was like "You better go poop or I'm gonna leave stains." I decided that I had to do it.

So I took a stroll down the hall to the rarely used mens room at the end. It's a pretty old building and the bathroom was pretty small, the two stalls were tiny.

I grabbed one of those paper things that you put on the toilet seat and checked the first stall, it was filled with a dark yellow piss and a fat little turd bobbing along and having a grand swim in the nasty yellow pool. I opted for the next stall.

The next stall was sparkling clean. I'm telling you the damn thing smelled like a breezy sunshine afternoon in a field of wild flowers. I lined the paper thing to the seat, turned around and started to drop my pants.

The damn thing started flushing, I turned around and the fucking seat was going down.

My asshole was like "Shit! Hurry, go get another one!" He was right, so I pulled my pants up and held them with one hand as I walked accross the empty restroom to get another toilet seat. I lined the damn thing up, dropped my drawers and started to sit when FLUSHHHHHHHH.

Mother fucker! My butt hept trying to convince me that it would be okay, reminded me of the sunshine and wildflowers, but I refused to sit on a bare public toilet seat no matter how clean it was. I saw the first stall for the warning that it was.

I hobbled accross the restroom one more time, walking with my cheeks pressed firly together. I got the fucking seat protector and walked into the stall again. I held the seat protector to my butt and sat down on the toilet seat as it flushed. Thankfully the paper was now wedged between my butt and the toilet seat, and I could finally get the ordeal over with.

I should be arrested for what I did to the toilet that day.

About Elevators

I work in an old building. We have three elevators that are far from trust-worthy. Many people have been stuck in them for extended amounts of time, but so far I have been immune.

I'm the last one to leave the office (hell, the whole building), so if the elevator gets stuck I'm pretty much in there all night.

Which brings me to the realization of a new fear.

When the doors to the elevators slide shut, I sometimes realize that I should have peed before leaving the office. I mean, if I do get stuck, I'm gonna have to just go at some point. And then I'll be stuck in an elevator trying to avoid a puddle of my own urine.

It keeps me awake at night sometimes.