Weird places or situations where you had no choice but to do a SHIT!

[djdeeds]

I was inspired by the recent elevator video where a guy was trapped for hours and needed to shit. made me remember a few occasions where I was stuck in a difficult situation.
I'll leave a couple of my own examples and look forward to hearing your own stories.
There was a time I was at a formal event (suit and tie etc) very fancy, and I had already dumped a shit before realizing there was no paper. so I took my shoe and sock off and wiped with my sock then just wore my shoe on a bare foot.
Another time I was working at a Church and the toilets were locked, so I hid in a rose garden and shit behind the bushes , I used the corner of a curtain that was flapping at an open window to wipe my ass on and worried about God jinxing me for about six months afterwards.
Another time when I worked for a landscaping business I was so busting to shit one day I ran into a storage shed and shit into a bag of fertilizer LOL , I used a bamboo stick and kinda stirred it in hoping nobody would even notice cos it already stank.
Have you ever been in a weird situation you just needed to shit no matter what? and what happened?

 

[slickrick27]

Your crazy bro, I shit in a plastic bag in the back of my truck at the bus station parking lot one time.

 

[1Stinkbean]

Once shat into a Burger King cup that was handed to me at the drive thru containing a soft drink an hour before, in the back of a delivery truck. Fortunately I still had enough fry grease stained napkins to clean the balloon knot. Not my best day, nor fondest memory.

 

[Chief Queef]

After years of using Porta John's, I put this dreadful scenario to rest. I will defacte almost anywhere. However, if this fear is still a reality, I suggest diapers. You're social life may suffer, but what is that compared to peace of mind...

 

[methedup77]

5 yrs old kindergarten at a Catholic school. It was a small town. Boys bathroom only had 2 stalls. I needed to shit. Both stalls occupied. I went outside behind this shed like building. (It wasnt recess). And shit on the ground. They came and then called my mom to come get me to change my clothes. Not cause I shit in them but that was 41 yrs ago. So it’s foggy but pretty certain cause I didn’t have toilet paper to wipe my ass and had my pants down waiting for someone to come to my recuse cause I’ll be damned I have shit on my clothes.

After years of using Porta John's, I put this dreadful scenario to rest. I will defacte almost anywhere. However, if this fear is still a reality, I suggest diapers. You're social life may suffer, but what is that compared to peace of mind...

Ports John? I’ve had diarrhea at work and didn’t have time to line the seat with toilet paper so just sprayed all over the back end. Of it. Wiped my ass and left it as is. Fuck those nasty things. They don’t clean em well.l at work. They just take a garden hose and rinse the whole thing out.

 

[djdeeds]

Once shat into a Burger King cup that was handed to me at the drive thru containing a soft drink an hour before, in the back of a delivery truck. Fortunately I still had enough fry grease stained napkins to clean the balloon knot. Not my best day, nor fondest memory.

LMAO at "Balloon knot"

5 yrs old kindergarten at a Catholic school. It was a small town. Boys bathroom only had 2 stalls. I needed to shit. Both stalls occupied. I went outside behind this shed like building. (It wasnt recess). And shit on the ground. They came and then called my mom to come get me to change my clothes. Not cause I shit in them but that was 41 yrs ago. So it’s foggy but pretty certain cause I didn’t have toilet paper to wipe my ass and had my pants down waiting for someone to come to my recuse cause I’ll be damned I have shit on my clothes.


Ports John? I’ve had diarrhea at work and didn’t have time to line the seat with toilet paper so just sprayed all over the back end. Of it. Wiped my ass and left it as is. Fuck those nasty things. They don’t clean em well.l at work. They just take a garden hose and rinse the whole thing out.

Agree, they are designed to be hosed out. There's literally drain holes for it. I think females have mastered the squat without any skin contact with toilet seats - they definitely have the advantage as far as skill level.

 

[DokraOwl]

I can't confirm or deny the following story as having happened to me or not, just take it as an account of fiction. I had just returned back to NYC from the DR in early Feburary and had gotten food poisoning. I was going to a wedding and I had diarrhea really badly. Every few minutes on the way to the venue I had to pull over and take a shit on the side of the road. I finally get to the parking lot of the wedding hall and realize I suddenly needed to take another shit so opened the door and shit on the floor but some inevitably got on the car and some other places too. I drove the car a good five feet forward and 30 seconds later handed the valet the keys.

 

[Bruno Schulz]

Once, while 18 or 19 and working at a deli in a supermarket, I was struggling to get through my morning shift while keeping my colon from evacuating. I had beer shits a-brewin' and a-stormin' in my angry vengeful guts, and like any man trying to fight forces of nature like wind, heat, snow, or hail, I was bound going to lose. Since the deli was always busy from around 11-to-1 when people were shopping for lunch, I was baby-stepping back and forth hurriedly to different parts of the deli counter and back and forth to different customers in an endless stream. I say "baby-stepping" because my cheeks were clenched like a beartrap and straining to keep myself from embarrassing myself with an errant fart or worse. I'm sure I was sweating from the exertion on my ass cheeks alone, never mind the busy lunch rush. Well, "worse" wound up happening. I felt a hot noxious alcohol fart slip out...and then some. The "some" was warm soupy nonsense that my bowels simply quit trying to absorb the water out of - as healthy guts are wont to do. But mine weren't healthy; mine, like I said, were angry; actually, not only were they angry but they were also tired and puckishly mirthful that morning. And as result of that confluence of spite and mean-spiritedness, mine just gave up on the job and spit that mess out into my Calvin Klein boxer-briefs. I had to quickly excuse myself and embarrassingly abandon my post to my co-workers, who I hoped would be too busy to notice the funky miasma creeping up all around them. I'm sure that was just wishful thinking on my part because anyone who has had alcoholic shits knows there's no funk like that funk. Anyway, once inside the employee bathroom I dropped my pants and underwear to find what I expected: soupy greenish-brown sludge in the middle of my boxer-briefs. I say in the middle because where the shit settled happened to be where the backs of my balls were resting. So now I had shitty underwear and shitty balls, and had to figure out how to clean myself and my underpants quickly and get back out to work. But wouldn't you know it! There was no liquid soap to get me on the road to recovery; there was only...granulated soap. Whatever! I had to make do. So I took off my trousers and underwear completely. I double-checked to make sure the soup hadn't seeped through to the seat and crotch of my pants. And I mean it when I say it, though the good lord had abandoned me thus far that morning, he didn't damn me completely, and my trousers were unblemished. So, praise Jesus! Meanwhile at the sink, I was grinding granulated soap into my my boxer-briefs under a stream of tap water. Unfortunately, my underwear was ribbed, and the ribs were now filling with a mixture of undissolved grain soap and soupy beer poo. After several minutes of fruitless washing, and feeling like Sisyphus if Sisyphus was an alcoholic degenerate loser working at a posh deli counter serving upper-middle class and well-to-do cunts, I cut my losses, wrung my undies as much as I could, put them back on, and faced the lunch crowd once again. But now, and I don't know if it was my imagination or not, but for the remainder of my 8-hour shift I could smell the heretofore unknown odor of soapy poo constantly. And this, of course, just made my shift crawl by as my paranoia of smelling like a homeless pants-shitting wino was making me belabor every moment of embarrassment - stretching every minute into 10. If my co-workers smelled anything at all they were kind enough not to mention it. Though I wish they would have and I would have then known that my imagination was not playing tricks on me and I was, therefore, not paranoid. Whatever the case, after hours of poo-funk paranoia and embarrassment my shift ended. I got some alcohol on the way home, did some laundry, and proceeded to get shitty like every other night. The End.

 

[methedup77]

Once, while 18 or 19 and working at a deli in a supermarket, I was struggling to get through my morning shift while keeping my colon from evacuating. I had beer shits a-brewin' and a-stormin' in my angry vengeful guts, and like any man trying to fight forces of nature like wind, heat, snow, or hail, I was bound going to lose. Since the deli was always busy from around 11-to-1 when people were shopping for lunch, I was baby-stepping back and forth hurriedly to different parts of the deli counter and back and forth to different customers in an endless stream. I say "baby-stepping" because my cheeks were clenched like a beartrap and straining to keep myself from embarrassing myself with an errant fart or worse. I'm sure I was sweating from the exertion on my ass cheeks alone, never mind the busy lunch rush. Well, "worse" wound up happening. I felt a hot noxious alcohol fart slip out...and then some. The "some" was warm soupy nonsense that my bowels simply quit trying to absorb the water out of - as healthy guts are wont to do. But mine weren't healthy; mine, like I said, were angry; actually, not only were they angry but they were also tired and puckishly mirthful that morning. And as result of that confluence of spite and mean-spiritedness, mine just gave up on the job and spit that mess out into my Calvin Klein boxer-briefs. I had to quickly excuse myself and embarrassingly abandon my post to my co-workers, who I hoped would be too busy to notice the funky miasma creeping up all around them. I'm sure that was just wishful thinking on my part because anyone who has had alcoholic shits knows there's no funk like that funk. Anyway, once inside the employee bathroom I dropped my pants and underwear to find what I expected: soupy greenish-brown sludge in the middle of my boxer-briefs. I say in the middle because where the shit settled happened to be where the backs of my balls were resting. So now I had shitty underwear and shitty balls, and had to figure out how to clean myself and my underpants quickly and get back out to work. But wouldn't you know it! There was no liquid soap to get me on the road to recovery; there was only...granulated soap. Whatever! I had to make do. So I took off my trousers and underwear completely. I double-checked to make sure the soup hadn't seeped through to the seat and crotch of my pants. And I mean it when I say it, though the good lord had abandoned me thus far that morning, he didn't damn me completely, and my trousers were unblemished. So, praise Jesus! Meanwhile at the sink, I was grinding granulated soap into my my boxer-briefs under a stream of tap water. Unfortunately, my underwear was ribbed, and the ribs were now filling with a mixture of undissolved grain soap and soupy beer poo. After several minutes of fruitless washing, and feeling like Sisyphus if Sisyphus was an alcoholic degenerate loser working at a posh deli counter serving upper-middle class and well-to-do cunts, I cut my losses, wrung my undies as much as I could, put them back on, and faced the lunch crowd once again. But now, and I don't know if it was my imagination or not, but for the remainder of my 8-hour shift I could smell the heretofore unknown odor of soapy poo constantly. And this, of course, just made my shift crawl by as my paranoia of smelling like a homeless pants-shitting wino was making me belabor every moment of embarrassment - stretching every minute into 10. If my co-workers smelled anything at all they were kind enough not to mention it. Though I wish they would have and I would have then known that my imagination was not playing tricks on me and I was, therefore, not paranoid. Whatever the case, after hours of poo-funk paranoia and embarrassment my shift ended. I got some alcohol on the way home, did some laundry, and proceeded to get shitty like every other night. The End.

Underwear are disposable. Plenty of times in a portojohn at work if shit in then? I grab my pocket knife and cut em off and throw em. Clean my ass and go commando the rest of the day.

 

[Bruno Schulz]

Underwear are disposable. Plenty of times in a portojohn at work if shit in then? I grab my pocket knife and cut em off and throw em. Clean my ass and go commando the rest of the day.

Not mine. Mine have sentimental value. I still have those that I wrote about. I 've got them framed above my bed even, between my velvet Elvis and my velvet Mother Teresa.

 

[methedup77]

Not mine. Mine have sentimental value. I still have those that I wrote about. I 've got them framed above my bed even, between my velvet Elvis and my velvet Mother Teresa.

I bet it’s also framed right next that that STAIND poster you have stapled to your wall.

 

[Harumph]

Apart from occasional Montezuma's Revenge Splats, my worst evacuating memories are from experiences with Movie Prep prescriptions prior to colonoscopies. Those were horrifically traumatizing for me! I wouldn't wish them on any creature alive or dead!

 

[fitz2654]

Fukin funny stories was have a shitty day my self here really made me lol thanks for sharing my brother at 9 years old shit his pants in the back seat of a family road trip with like 8 of us aboard hot summer day in the eighties the ol man still never pulled over lmfao sat in his shit for hours if that car was still here I bet you can smell it still

 

[Awaiting the Vultures]

I work in construction and was working on someone's house one time and they weren't home and I ended up shitting in their back yard

 

[Blood_Sport]

My oldest son was just over 2 years old and had just progressed to using a toilet without a step or add on child seat.. we were shopping in the January sales in Homebase, he was running around while we had his 6 month old brother in the car seat. We walked around into the bathroom display area and my son was messing around with the taps on the wash basins, he was getting upset that they didn't have water in them, we then asked why he was so upset about it,he said that he always washed his hands after going to the toilet... Where did you go to the toilet, we asked.. he pointed and said, that one, I went over and lifted the lid to find some sloppy turd surrounded by a moat of yellow piss.. and a few skid marks just to compliment the rest of the mess... we left the shop quickly and without any purchases.

 

[lechmich]

I remember one time in the 90s working in old Saigon on my way back to the hotel after a very cheap night of beer and what turned out to be dodgy seafood. Getting extreme pain from toxic gastrocolic reflex on the back of a cyclo on a bumpy HCMC backstreet is something you do not want. I urgently motioned the driver to pull over as I fought for bowel control. Now in these regions, it is quite common for the gutters to be used as sewers, but for foreigners who have hotel rooms to stay in, it is generally frowned upon with vigor. I managed to get my gear down just a bit late as a full on steaming projectile flow missed the gutter and went half way across the footpath-not good form. I explained to two ladies who witnessed the atrocious incident that I was Russian (not) and enquired if they were finished with the day's newspaper...

 

[SMOKESKULL]

I was just in Hawaii and we were walking around looking at stuff when suddenly I knew I needed a toilet right away. We headed to a mall in the distance but both bridges over the creek were closed due to damage. I ran behind a pickup truck in a parking lot and fired a streak of shit about 5 feet long. Lucky my wife had kleenex. Not sure if there was cameras around or uf anyone in the mall could see but I just got the fuck out of there.
The guy whose truck I shit behind was prolly WTF is that smell when he picked up his truck

 

[ThunderCat]

For fuck sake....
What have i done.....
Look what that video has started....
🤔😂🤣😂🤣

 

[Bostonjohn]

Sharted on a greyhound once.... it was a rough trip.

 

[ThunderCat]

LMAO at "Balloon knot"


Agree, they are designed to be hosed out. There's literally drain holes for it. I think females have mastered the squat without any skin contact with toilet seats - they definitely have the advantage as far as skill level.

I always put toilet roll down on seats at public toilets and also hover over them...I NEVER sit down...EVAAAAAAA!!!
😬😬

Once, while 18 or 19 and working at a deli in a supermarket, I was struggling to get through my morning shift while keeping my colon from evacuating. I had beer shits a-brewin' and a-stormin' in my angry vengeful guts, and like any man trying to fight forces of nature like wind, heat, snow, or hail, I was bound going to lose. Since the deli was always busy from around 11-to-1 when people were shopping for lunch, I was baby-stepping back and forth hurriedly to different parts of the deli counter and back and forth to different customers in an endless stream. I say "baby-stepping" because my cheeks were clenched like a beartrap and straining to keep myself from embarrassing myself with an errant fart or worse. I'm sure I was sweating from the exertion on my ass cheeks alone, never mind the busy lunch rush. Well, "worse" wound up happening. I felt a hot noxious alcohol fart slip out...and then some. The "some" was warm soupy nonsense that my bowels simply quit trying to absorb the water out of - as healthy guts are wont to do. But mine weren't healthy; mine, like I said, were angry; actually, not only were they angry but they were also tired and puckishly mirthful that morning. And as result of that confluence of spite and mean-spiritedness, mine just gave up on the job and spit that mess out into my Calvin Klein boxer-briefs. I had to quickly excuse myself and embarrassingly abandon my post to my co-workers, who I hoped would be too busy to notice the funky miasma creeping up all around them. I'm sure that was just wishful thinking on my part because anyone who has had alcoholic shits knows there's no funk like that funk. Anyway, once inside the employee bathroom I dropped my pants and underwear to find what I expected: soupy greenish-brown sludge in the middle of my boxer-briefs. I say in the middle because where the shit settled happened to be where the backs of my balls were resting. So now I had shitty underwear and shitty balls, and had to figure out how to clean myself and my underpants quickly and get back out to work. But wouldn't you know it! There was no liquid soap to get me on the road to recovery; there was only...granulated soap. Whatever! I had to make do. So I took off my trousers and underwear completely. I double-checked to make sure the soup hadn't seeped through to the seat and crotch of my pants. And I mean it when I say it, though the good lord had abandoned me thus far that morning, he didn't damn me completely, and my trousers were unblemished. So, praise Jesus! Meanwhile at the sink, I was grinding granulated soap into my my boxer-briefs under a stream of tap water. Unfortunately, my underwear was ribbed, and the ribs were now filling with a mixture of undissolved grain soap and soupy beer poo. After several minutes of fruitless washing, and feeling like Sisyphus if Sisyphus was an alcoholic degenerate loser working at a posh deli counter serving upper-middle class and well-to-do cunts, I cut my losses, wrung my undies as much as I could, put them back on, and faced the lunch crowd once again. But now, and I don't know if it was my imagination or not, but for the remainder of my 8-hour shift I could smell the heretofore unknown odor of soapy poo constantly. And this, of course, just made my shift crawl by as my paranoia of smelling like a homeless pants-shitting wino was making me belabor every moment of embarrassment - stretching every minute into 10. If my co-workers smelled anything at all they were kind enough not to mention it. Though I wish they would have and I would have then known that my imagination was not playing tricks on me and I was, therefore, not paranoid. Whatever the case, after hours of poo-funk paranoia and embarrassment my shift ended. I got some alcohol on the way home, did some laundry, and proceeded to get shitty like every other night. The End.

Why didn't you just go back COMMANDO!??
😂