re: Social media "conspiracy" theory regarding everyone pooping their pants

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Aw dang dude, you're right, we should shut down the economy cuz everyone is gonna get explosive diarrhea. Let's make a big pandemic about it.

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Retarded histrionics. Nice.

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Yea, diarrhea really isn't that big of a deal either. Just hang a little closer to the toilet for a few days, how terrible.

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Other than being among the most common causes of death to all mammals including Humans it ain't a big deal. Keep that in mind when someone mentions America not being great enough for them....in a lot of the world people fear diarrhea like we fear an air conditioner going out for a few hours....its terrifying....

Fun fact, back when I worked fire/ems, at a time where I was mostly on the ambulance. Was really needing to shite and a call came in, a motorcycle wreck on the interstate. My partner could handle anything but the smell of shite, he would throw up. This dude is pretty banged up and we are trying to stabilize him, as we are doing that the urge comes back in an awful way.

Long story short, I shite all in my pants on the side of the interstate, we are in ambulance and I tell my partner I shite myself, he immediately starts throwing up. We are behind the pt, and all of a sudden we hear him yell "What the frick is going on back there/" It was awful but nearly 20 years later I can laugh about it. I had to ask a guy from rescue to ride with us and when we got to ER I took my underwear off and wiped myself down, all down my leg, and threw in trash. Was miserable experience

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Nary a shart?

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I have a great story about this.

Several years ago, my friend John lived in Savannah, and his wife had just left him. I called to tell him that some friends were meeting at a bar in downtown Atlanta to celebrate a friend's graduation from Georgia State. John had always had a crush on the graduate, so I figured the trip might lift his spirits.

John and I were having a few drinks with some of the other husbands and boyfriends when his ex-wife walked in. She was friends with the graduate, so it wasn't completely unexpected, but it absolutely sent John into a tailspin.

He proceeded to drink two pitchers of beer and then started hitting on every woman in the bar. Every single one rejected him.

At some point we lost track of him for about an hour. Then I looked up just in time to see a guy grab him by the arm and say, "We're going to clean this shite up," as he dragged John toward the bathroom.

I followed, assuming I was about to break up a fight because John had hit on the guy's girlfriend. Instead, I walked in and found John on his hands and knees wiping the bathroom floor. He looked up, saw me, threw the paper towels in the trash, and silently walked out of the bar.

As I followed him outside, I overheard one woman say to her friend, "That guy stinks."

I went outside looking for John, but he was nowhere to be found. He had disappeared into the Atlanta night.

Three days later he finally called and explained what had happened.

After seeing his ex and drinking far too much, he went into the bathroom to use the urinal. While he was standing there, he sharted himself. It ran down his pants leg and onto the bathroom floor. The bar owner saw him walk out without cleaning up the mess, tracked him down, dragged him back into the bathroom, and made him clean it up.

Hearing that woman say he stank was apparently the final blow. Completely defeated, he got into his 1995 Honda CRX and drove back to Savannah in about two and a half hours. Doing the math, he must have averaged close to 100 mph with a BAC somewhere around .20.

Just as he crossed I-95 on his way into Savannah, he ran out of gas. He spent the night sleeping in his car on the side of the road.

The next morning he left a note on the windshield saying the car was out of gas and started walking down I-16. Eventually he climbed over a fence into a nice subdivision, where he found a guy working on his car. The guy gave him a couple beers while they worked on his car before giving him a ride home.

Monday morning John got a coworker to drive him back to retrieve his CRX. Only problem was it wasn't where he left it. He called the police to report it stolen.

The officer told him that the car had actually been towed the night before. John got heated insisting it had been legally parked. The officer had enough and said they had to tow it because, by the time they got there, it was sitting on four cinder blocks with all the windows smashed out.

If John wanted it back, he'd have to pay the towing bill plus $100 a day in storage fees. He didn't have enough money to get it out of impound, much less repair it, so for all I know that 95 CRX is still sitting there.

I've had some pretty shitty weekends, but never one quite that shitty.

Only time I shite my pants was in college while in my sleep, from food poisoning...

Thanks McDonald's, haven't eaten a Big Mac since then...

Slo Flo Prolapse has had explosive diarrhea of posts for a couple of decades.

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I have never shite my pants as an adult.

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Great job holding in your farts like some kind of fancy princess.

It's fun to get diarrhea.