Shit Stories: Part Number Two
As a regular service to our readers, we've been re-opening old questions.
Once again, we want to hear your stories of shit, poo and number twos. Go on - be filthier than last time.
( , Thu 27 Mar 2008, 14:57)
As a regular service to our readers, we've been re-opening old questions.
Once again, we want to hear your stories of shit, poo and number twos. Go on - be filthier than last time.
( , Thu 27 Mar 2008, 14:57)
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Don't, Just Don't
On a trip to New York, whilst enjoying the best Americana on offer, I thought:
"I'm in New York, what better way to get the authentic New York experience, than by buying a pretzel from a pretzel vendor"
Any New Yorkers on the board probably just choked on their coffees...
Now I like the big pretzels especially with herbs and what have you, but had never had a salt one before. To say that this pretzel had more salt on it than was in all the oceans of the earth would be an understatement.
The fallout from the pretzel didn't manifest itself until the evening, when in a restaurant, my body gave me a 5 second warning. I made my excuses and had a good half hour splatterfest in the restaurant's facilities.
On my return feeling somewhat refreshed, my concerned companions enquired if I was OK, to which I replied that I was and that that pretzel I'd gone out of the way for earlier had upset my stomach a bit.
I was blissfully unaware of what was to come the next morning...
Departure Day, 5am: I sit bolt upright with pains in my abdomen and rush to the toilet. Despite a lot straining I produce nothing but slightly murky water. I go back to bed only to do the same half hour later. This process continues until 9am when things step up a gear.
The pain feels like I have lava flowing through my lower intestine whilst simultaneously having fire demons in there poking me with pitchforks.
At this point I was half-naked, lying in a foetal position, whimpering like a dog, fingers digging into the mattress, and tears of pain streaming down my face. It was and still is the most pain I have ever been in.
The time to leave for the flight was getting closer, and my partner had gone off to get some breakfast. I was at the point of thinking that I would end up in a hospital in New York having my digestive system replaced, when a final pang signalled I should get myself to a water closet. I ran and released.
That moment was like a sunrise, birds flew into the sky, opera music was heard, babies were born, I think I may even have seen god.
My partner came back to find me withered but otherwise fine, my ordeal was over, but I was 15 stone lighter and a bit more grey in appearance.
Never, never, never, never, never, never ever get a salt pretzel from a vendor in New York.
( , Fri 28 Mar 2008, 16:33, 1 reply)
On a trip to New York, whilst enjoying the best Americana on offer, I thought:
"I'm in New York, what better way to get the authentic New York experience, than by buying a pretzel from a pretzel vendor"
Any New Yorkers on the board probably just choked on their coffees...
Now I like the big pretzels especially with herbs and what have you, but had never had a salt one before. To say that this pretzel had more salt on it than was in all the oceans of the earth would be an understatement.
The fallout from the pretzel didn't manifest itself until the evening, when in a restaurant, my body gave me a 5 second warning. I made my excuses and had a good half hour splatterfest in the restaurant's facilities.
On my return feeling somewhat refreshed, my concerned companions enquired if I was OK, to which I replied that I was and that that pretzel I'd gone out of the way for earlier had upset my stomach a bit.
I was blissfully unaware of what was to come the next morning...
Departure Day, 5am: I sit bolt upright with pains in my abdomen and rush to the toilet. Despite a lot straining I produce nothing but slightly murky water. I go back to bed only to do the same half hour later. This process continues until 9am when things step up a gear.
The pain feels like I have lava flowing through my lower intestine whilst simultaneously having fire demons in there poking me with pitchforks.
At this point I was half-naked, lying in a foetal position, whimpering like a dog, fingers digging into the mattress, and tears of pain streaming down my face. It was and still is the most pain I have ever been in.
The time to leave for the flight was getting closer, and my partner had gone off to get some breakfast. I was at the point of thinking that I would end up in a hospital in New York having my digestive system replaced, when a final pang signalled I should get myself to a water closet. I ran and released.
That moment was like a sunrise, birds flew into the sky, opera music was heard, babies were born, I think I may even have seen god.
My partner came back to find me withered but otherwise fine, my ordeal was over, but I was 15 stone lighter and a bit more grey in appearance.
Never, never, never, never, never, never ever get a salt pretzel from a vendor in New York.
( , Fri 28 Mar 2008, 16:33, 1 reply)
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