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Your Gnarliest Poop Stories

Illustration for article titled Your Gnarliest Poop Stories

Everybody— even Beyoncé — poops. Sometimes things do not go well. Let's discuss it.

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My favorite Poop Gone Awry story is a bit of an internet urban legend that I first heard from an old coworker of mine, who swore it happened to his friend who lives in LA. Story goes that a guy who has long had a pining crush on a girl finally gets the nerve to ask her out. He's nervous, but, to his relief, things are going pretty okay on the date; both parties are having a great time. But then he farts, and a little something extra comes out with the stored gas. Crap. Literally.

The guy tries to keep his date from knowing what had happened by convincing her to stop at a Gap store, where he buys a pair of pants. They arrive at their next destination (in the version I heard, it was an outdoor concert) and the guy makes a beeline for the commode. As soon as he gets in, he tears off his poopypants and boxers, balls them up, and chucks them out of a window. Cleans himself up. Opens the Gap bag. And it contains...

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A sweater. The checkout girl at the Gap accidentally gave him. A. Sweater. Instead. Of. Pants.

In other versions, the couple is on a train heading home from New York City, or in an apartment some distance from the ground floor. And it always ends with horrified laughter, because errant poop is horrifying, even if it's the star of a story that turns out to be made up.

But before we get to what I'm expecting will be literally the crappiest pissing contest ever, let's talk last week's winner, the beloved and consistently hilarious cassiebearRAWR, who is into such porns as rape porn, hypnosis porn, something called vore that I dare all of you to google, and milking. Also revealed: is an actual bear.

Now, get ready to talk shit.

Image via Shutterstock

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Dr Mrs The Monarch

I think I can win this.

I pooped my pants at Disneyland. During the big Christmas show. In front of a crowd (how didn't get confirmation, but...)

Let me set the scene: It's Christmas season a couple years back, my person and I are annual passholders and we get an invite to the Super Special Christmas Choir show at Disneyland. We decide to go, but I kind of feel like shit (yep) all day.

We have to wait in two cattle calls, showing special tickets and wristbands, the works. While that's happening I'm starting to get worried because something is wrong, but I don't know how very wrong yet. We're seated in a large crowd in front of a stage area in the front of the park. (If you're familiar with Disneyland, it's on the side of the train station that faces Main Street.) There are like 500 people, and at least a hundred performers. We're seated in the third row from the front and we can't escape back through the crowd. Plus, there are ushers who are not letting people get up to help control the crowd.

The show starts. There are a lot of candles and some singing. There are a billion people who are all having their super special Christmas magic time. I suddenly am like 100% sure I'm going to barf.

Finally, desperately, I run the only place I can... toward the stage. I try to pull off to one side so I don't ruin the show, and I manage to make it to the edge of the side of the stairs of the train station, about two feet from the edge of the singing choir (who, very professionally, do not stop). I vomit there.

Immediately there are ushers, but WHAT CAN THEY DO THEY ARE INTERNS IN COLLEGE OR SOMETHING. My person is still sitting, in shock, in the crowd of people who just saw me barf.

I do my best to run-walk toward the bathroom that's around 150 feet away, but I only make it to the grass island between the Christmas event and the bathrooms and I shit my pants. It just happens and I can't stop it. It doesn't even really feel like I shit my pants it happens so fast — more like suddenly there just *is* shit in my pants. At the same time I vomit again. Some very helpless Disney worker says, "Are you okay?!"

NO. I remember saying NO really clearly. Obviously not okay.

By the time I make it to the bathroom it is very clear that not only have my pants been shit in, they have been destroyed. I am now in a public restroom in Disneyland during the busy Christmas season with no fucking pants. And they were my favorite jeans! My husband eventually finds me, buys me a pair of velour pants with Mickeys on the butt, and we leave.