|
Never, not flushing is very rude, not to mention all my bodily functions fill me with shame and any evidence should be removed swiftly.
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 21:00 |
|
|
# ? Apr 26, 2024 12:12 |
|
Yeah, I always flush. Although the idea of leaving some juvenile gift to people is appealing on some level. Particularly if it turned out really good; but with my diet that hardly ever happens.
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 21:03 |
|
Technically. I always flush because I'm not a heathen who enjoys other people looking at my feces. But if it wouldn't flush I got places to be.
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 21:03 |
|
Stoic Commie posted:Because you aren't as smart as me drat
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 21:44 |
|
Kuato posted:Yeah, I always flush. Although the idea of leaving some juvenile gift to people is appealing on some level. Particularly if it turned out really good; but with my diet that hardly ever happens. I took a crustpunk to a hospital one time and he told about how when he was younger he used to make his friend Mikey produce a shitdollar (this is a dollar bill where one side is coated with a thin layer of human or animal poo poo) which he would stick down to the sidewalk in a busy part of town and watch as the greedy would stoop over to get their free dollar and come away with their fingers coated in poo poo. I thought you might appreciate this image and urge you to consider leaving a boggy log behind the next time you have an opportunity in tribute to it.
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 21:48 |
|
Someone make a new thread titled "Soup is the best thing to eat for breakfast" I want to post in it and Android app can't make new threads
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 21:53 |
|
You don't have to be greedy to pick up a dollar. WTF?
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 21:58 |
|
The Sphinxster posted:You don't have to be greedy to pick up a dollar. WTF? Lol
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 22:12 |
|
I mean seriously lol people got poo poo on their fingers in the very act of money grubbing how is that not automatic lol
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 22:13 |
|
I don't really *do* morning shits but that sort of roiling, noxious red-brown liquid runs that has the consistency of cooking oil and an acridly foul smell to it that permeates everything the moment the first hot squirt shoots down into the bowl so hard the shitwater spatters your gooch and the bottom of your sack and gums up the hairs on your scrotum, the harsh acidity of it that leaves your pucker raw and blistering before even the first wipe and even after a dozen you still feel dirty, making your skin clammy and sweaty from the irritation and the slight nausea and the certainty that twenty minutes later you will be in the exact same position again grunting and cursing quietly as the thin gruel pours out of you like a burst abscess, is no stranger to me I try not to pay too much attention or look too closely at the patterns on the toilet paper I buy; they remind me too much of the network of fissures that cover my red and ravaged anus. I haven't had a solid stool in four months. I remember the last time I consistently did so, mostly because it was the exact opposite of my current situation; my turds grew progressively larger, blacker, and harder, like the penises in the series of cuckold fetish videos I watched while masturbating for a couple hours late last Thursday. Eventually these sturdy logs--not to overdo the comparison to the male member, but they were so reminiscent of a phallus that I found looking at them made me feel inadequate--turned into nuggets, simply because pushing them out was such a laborious experience that I would inevitably have to stop for fear of a subconjunctival hemorrhage or passing out from a lack of oxygen, each crowning three-quarters-of-an-inch of dookie inevitably being snipped off like the head of a cigar or French aristocrat. After roughly forty minutes of this I would inevitably be left with a small pile of my leavings in the very bottom of the bowl, pitch-black and compact, sometimes squat and cylindrical in shape like a collection of vaguely sinister hockey pucks or more spherical, a pile of little round balls of poo poo as hard as ice, coal for bad children. I am convinced that making GBS threads is the closest I have come to knowing the feeling of dying. Not in general, and not every time, obviously, only with the endless and cloying rust-colored streams that I have discussed previously. It is an ostensibly normal bodily function that I undertake, I go through the same motions in my endeavors that a man dropping a perfectly healthy deuce would, but my sufferings separate me irrevocably from any sense of commonality with him, my humanity is sheared away from me mentally, physically I feel like this ordeal is not the mundane and routine expulsion of waste but instead the wracking tortures of a man nearing the end, my animal heart screams at me from my agonized core, it tells me I am dying, it feels it and it knows it, my mind and my reason knows it is temporary but my body knows the bowl will be my grave, the tank my headstone, it is the instinct of all creatures that tells me that these are the feelings dead men feel, this is the smell dead things make, and though I ultimately know I will not die from it my mind turns away, I reflect on my life and all its foolish mistakes and petty cruelties as if it truly were ending, since the thought that I will live on and experience this not once more but countless times, dragged by my bowels back to my porcelain prison, is truly more horrifying than the idea of my death. Some people express a fear of their bowel movement being heard in public bathrooms, a "performance anxiety" of a sort; one hears of this phenomenon in pop culture most often associated with urinating at the urinals in plain view of other men and the impediment thus being others' sight of you relieving yourself, but I don't think it's particularly surprising that it is just as much if not more of a problem for making GBS threads and sound as an impediment, since most cultures find flatulence and everything but the most discrete sounds of defecation to be shameful or embarrassing. I do not have this problem at all, though that may surprise you, as my shits are literally indistinguishable aurally from ordinary urination. I remember a time a month or so ago(perhaps more, I have always been a poor judge of the passage of time over the long term) I read an article about an experimental pure subsistence diet where a man essentially made this whitish slurry from all the essential vitamins and minerals needed for sustenance and combined it with enough water and calories, of what form I do not recall but it lacked roughage of any sort, to meet all of his bodies needs assuming a sedentary lifestyle typical of an office worker. Since his body was using literally everything he took in, he no longer needed to defecate, and he explained that while the mixture he'd made might sound good for dietary purposes it was a bad idea to subsist on in the long term since without regular use the muscles in the colon and sphincter would atrophy. Instantly I was seized with a mortal terror; it had been ages since my anus had produced anything other than rancid slime, and I was convinced that having gone so long without undertaking the efforts more traditionally associated with making GBS threads that I would suffer the same fate that the article writer warned of, albeit for a different and more tragic reason. Ultimately I decided such fears were unfounded. I certainly still strain myself while astride the pale horse--the angry scratches I occasionally carve into my acne-scarred thighs are a testament to this--and the panicked clenching of my pucker I maintain whenever the urge seizes me and I run wailing to the lavatory is a workout all its own.
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 22:35 |
|
Sheep-Goats posted:I mean seriously lol people got poo poo on their fingers in the very act of money grubbing how is that not automatic lol How much poo poo did you get on your hands preparing the dollar? edit: not saying it isn't funny but I get another laugh at you probably also
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 22:37 |
Sheep-Goats posted:I took a crustpunk to a hospital one time and he told about how when he was younger he used to make his friend Mikey produce a shitdollar (this is a dollar bill where one side is coated with a thin layer of human or animal poo poo) which he would stick down to the sidewalk in a busy part of town and watch as the greedy would stoop over to get their free dollar and come away with their fingers coated in poo poo. I thought you might appreciate this image and urge you to consider leaving a boggy log behind the next time you have an opportunity in tribute to it. Why were you taking him to the hospital?
|
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 22:44 |
|
Oh a 3rd party made his friend get poo poo on his hands to make a "greedy" stranger get poo poo on their hands. Anyway, that makes it way worse.
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 22:47 |
|
The Sphinxster posted:How much poo poo did you get on your hands preparing the dollar? The guy mentioned it being a crustpunk doing it, so the poo poo was probably cleaner than his hands or the rest of him for that matter.
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 22:56 |
|
A few months ago I used the bathroom at Target. Took a giant dump. Like the biggest dump of the year. It was gross. Had a combination of logs, chunks, and diarrhea liquid goop. Lots of toilet paper too. I went to flush.....and nothing. Toilet was broken. I went to the customer service desk and told the guy the toilet was broken and apologized in advance for the mess they had to deal with. I imagine the person cleaning it up will remember that sight for the rest of his life.
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 22:59 |
|
Someone from my high school would routinely poo poo on the floor of a stall at a Target/Walmart/Farm and Fleet type of store as a ha-ha joke. He was later found to be a psychopath and convicted rapist. You can tell a lot about a person in how they poo poo. really makes u stop and think
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 23:01 |
|
I prefer not to play away games.
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 23:08 |
|
WaryWarren posted:Someone from my high school would routinely poo poo on the floor of a stall at a Target/Walmart/Farm and Fleet type of store as a ha-ha joke. He was later found to be a psychopath and convicted rapist. You can tell a lot about a person in how they poo poo. really makes u stop and think If that's true then I'm the next Charles Manson.
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 23:13 |
|
The Sphinxster posted:How much poo poo did you get on your hands preparing the dollar? I would imagine that you just keep a dollar handy and give it a couple of good wipes on your rear end the next time you take a dump. Then, I don't know put it in a ziplock or something. Come to think of it, that's a little to involved and kind of makes it not funny anymore.
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 23:16 |
|
I work shifts. Days, nights and afternoons. Weekly rotation. The cleaning staff doesn't rotate. The lady who works days is a loving oval office. Easily the most hated person at work. Not only do I leave my poo poo in the toilet I also wipe my rear end and leave the paper on the floor. It pleases me greatly to know she has to flush my poops and pick up my lovely leavings. There have been many emails from HR regarding this. I hate her.
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 23:32 |
|
The Sphinxster posted:How much poo poo did you get on your hands preparing the dollar? None idiot you make Mikey do it. Mikey is a literally retarded person who hangs out with you because he has no friendship options in this world and you leverage this against him in order to get the shitdollar built in the first place.
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 23:53 |
|
Just ask all my ex's
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 23:54 |
|
Jim Barris posted:Why were you taking him to the hospital? It was my job.
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 23:55 |
|
Ricardio posted:I work shifts. Days, nights and afternoons. Weekly rotation. Lol
|
# ? Nov 7, 2015 23:57 |
|
Once when I was around 8 or 9 I was hanging out with my cousin at a park. We went back to his place and smelled something terrible. We tracked the smell down to his room and found that his beloved Guinea Pig Marbles had died. We were both very sad and decided he should be cremated like they had done with Grandpa. That way we could could save his ashes in a Batman cup and leave them on the mantle. So we collected his remains and some lighter fluid and headed down to the public bbq to burn Marble's body like the heathen kings of old. What we didn't know was that you had to stick a corpse in an insanely hot oven to reduce it to ash. We thought you just had to light it on fire and let the natured take care of the rest. So we dumped Marbles in the bbq, soaked it in lighter fluid and lit it on fire. his hair sizzled, his toenails caught on fire but he went out pretty quick. We resoaked his half charred, toenailless corpse again and relit it. I don't know if you have ever smell burning Guinea hair and melting flesh, but it isn't pleasant. His hair was now fully burned off and his skin was blistering, but still no ashes. At this point we were starting to gather some attention from other people at the park. We panicked and thought they would call the cops and arrest us for improper animal corpse handling and sent to to Juvie. We patted Marble's corpse out, ran to the public restroom and tried to flush it down the toilet. It didn't go great. Marbles swirled around the bottom of the toilet like the way Curly would twirl around the flooring yelling " woob woob woob woob woob", but he didn't flush. We tried again but nothing happened. Panicking even more, we stuffed him down the toilet and flushed again. His corpse got sucked halfway down , then the toilet started to back up and overflow. Panicked completely took over at this point and we left Marbles stuck in the toilet and ran back to my cousin's house, dug a hole in the garden, buried an empty shoebox and told everyone that's where Marbles was buried. I've always wondered what the next person to use that restroom thought when they found a half roasted guinea pig corpse sticking out of the toilet like some kind of Skeksi puppet.
|
# ? Nov 8, 2015 00:13 |
|
Your Gay Uncle posted:Once when I was around 8 or 9 I was hanging out with my cousin at a park. We went back to his place and smelled something terrible. We tracked the smell down to his room and found that his beloved Guinea Pig Marbles had died. We were both very sad and decided he should be cremated like they had done with Grandpa. That way we could could save his ashes in a Batman cup and leave them on the mantle. Pretty good post
|
# ? Nov 8, 2015 00:15 |
|
Your Gay Uncle posted:Once when I was around 8 or 9 I was hanging out with my cousin at a park. We went back to his place and smelled something terrible. We tracked the smell down to his room and found that his beloved Guinea Pig Marbles had died. We were both very sad and decided he should be cremated like they had done with Grandpa. That way we could could save his ashes in a Batman cup and leave them on the mantle. ahahaha
|
# ? Nov 8, 2015 00:18 |
|
Your Gay Uncle posted:Once when I was around 8 or 9 I was hanging out with my cousin at a park. We went back to his place and smelled something terrible. We tracked the smell down to his room and found that his beloved Guinea Pig Marbles had died. We were both very sad and decided he should be cremated like they had done with Grandpa. That way we could could save his ashes in a Batman cup and leave them on the mantle. holy poo poo lol
|
# ? Nov 8, 2015 00:20 |
|
now we're cookin
|
# ? Nov 8, 2015 00:28 |
|
One time after a week long opiate binge I took a poo poo that was literally the size of a football, hard as a rock, and covered with blood. I wiped, stood up and then the toilet water started flowing everywhere as it was no match for my turd. I left in a hurry since the toilet had some sort of load sensing mechanism that made it flush constantly and water was going everywhere.
|
# ? Nov 8, 2015 00:36 |
|
Your Gay Uncle posted:Once when I was around 8 or 9 I was hanging out with my cousin at a park. We went back to his place and smelled something terrible. We tracked the smell down to his room and found that his beloved Guinea Pig Marbles had died. We were both very sad and decided he should be cremated like they had done with Grandpa. That way we could could save his ashes in a Batman cup and leave them on the mantle. this guy owns
|
# ? Nov 8, 2015 00:44 |
|
When thinking about these poop stories I try to remember that they likely involve those silly American toilets. The ones where your balls, cock and rear end cheeks all float around in the water (or some kinda poo poo soup I guess...)
|
# ? Nov 8, 2015 00:50 |
|
yoloer420 posted:When thinking about these poop stories I try to remember that they likely involve those silly American toilets. The ones where your balls, cock and rear end cheeks all float around in the water (or some kinda poo poo soup I guess...) our balls and dicks are huge as is the rest of us
|
# ? Nov 8, 2015 01:10 |
|
|
# ? Apr 26, 2024 12:12 |
|
I knew a guy who would poo poo on the floor of public places and leave and thought it was the funniest thing in the world. A few years ago his wife got raped and I always wondered if the events were related somehow.
|
# ? Nov 8, 2015 01:21 |