Made a stir fry a while back that had around a third of a pound of habaneros in it. Never doing that again. Didn't shit my pants...but holy hell, did I ever feel like a piece of shit for around two days. Almost called in sick to work because of it. Couldn't even be in the kitchen while it was frying up....take a deep breath, run in, stir it a bit, run out, open the window, hang my head outside and breathe some of the sweet, sweet -30 degree air. Rinse and repeat for 20 minutes. And yes, I finished it. All of it. I'd never hear the end of it if I didn't!
what if it happened at work? That happenes to a few people too. I've heard work stories and other stories about pooting and shitting. In some cases, the stains are hard to clean. That got to be embarrising when people go in public like at a clothing store and shitted in pants without noticing it! That situation happened at a clothing store once. My mom said something about it to me. I've heard work stories about my dad when he worked at Amerin UE electric company. He led out a big one, fart. Many people heard it, that was funny.
Farting in the plane is the most hilarious thing you can do. Even better if the other guy has to grab the oxygen mask because of the awful, awful stink. Bonus points: the only outflow for the cabin air is in the back, so the fart goes back and gasses the poor passengers, whereas we're relatively safe up front
i keep thinking, i should creat a fart song myself* welcome to a song called "Blow" -in one moment, I gotta go, go take a blow, where ever you are, I gotta fart, don't come near me, because it'll blow your mind, [oh no (the back up singing part)] it turned out to be shit, and it just won't quit, time can't rewind, that's the news, ah, I gotta shit all over again, in 5 mins., [no! (the back up singing part)] in 15 mins, that's the end." free-style in 10 mins top**
I'll tell you my story. It was a spring Friday. I worked the entire day. It was busy alright. I ate tons to recover from all the work. Being a server, I get a free meal per shift I work. I worked two shifts (Lunch, Dinner) and I ate a absolutely spicy bowl of mongolian bbq and another one, but a larger portion of it, with shrimp, tofo, carrots, bean sprouts, and other vegetables. It was also quite spicy, I was challenging myself. In fact, it was so spicy, I had to down it with a glass of milk. This was my mistake. I cleaned up after closing, while having the worst possible stomach ever. EVER. I mean, not only was it turning, churning, but it was.. like talking to me. As if some poor soul was being punished for a crime they didn't commit. I got into my car, half hour later. On the way home, the studs on the roads and bumpy ride did nothing to help my anguished stomach. I felt bloated, inflated. I was almost home, but I had to stop by a grocery story to buy some milk. I stopped my car and my stomach felt like a dinosaur, as it roared at me. I had a thing against shitting in public stalls back then. I let out a slow, quiet fart as I entered the story. My, It felt really awkward. Like forcing a ballon to the bottom of the pool. At the same time, it was the warmest fart I've ever encountered. It's like that feeling when you sit on a really soft nice pillow, but instead of it being big, it was just on your inner-asscheeks. I noticed something was wrong that nice, comforting feeling, never left. I was shocked, but mostly, I was numb. Numb, from the slow realization I might have just shit myself. I thought little about it as I walked down the Isle. Too late. I knew it was so when I got to the end and felt my asshole unable to keep this boiling chocolate pudding inside. It was hideous, as I grabbed the milk carton. I rushed to the self-check out, hoping to spare myself the social suspicious i might have shit myself, and have a nasty smell coming from me. I got there, and I hurried past the self check out. It was closed. Oh good-lord, did I feel the sweat coming down from my forehead. Waiting in line, I could feel alittle more of my hot chunky chocolate escape from me. The head of a bean-sprout, the jagged edges of undigested carrots, and the burn of jalapenos. I couldn't stop it, like a tiny hole on top of an upside-down sealed fresh waterbottle. I squeezed and squeezed and it wouldn't halt. I paid for my damn milk as fast as I could and walked as fast as I could out of the store. I knew I had really an accident when I got outside. The air was cool, breezy. I could feel the pudding in my pants harden. Like clay. I got my car, I hoped to God when I saw down, it would not explode out of my pants into my car. I rushed home, it was less than a mile away. I arrived, and I opened the door, slammed it and rushed to the toilet. I didn't even bother closing the door, there was no time to waste. I sat down and shitted the most comforting, relieving diarrhea I've ever had in my life. Like a Dam breaking through, there was no more tension in my body. However, I looked at my pants, and I saw I really did shit myself. ... For the first time since I was in diapers. /le-end.
Up in newcastle on the piss, having a good night with lads, decide to end the evening by having a fahl (really fucking hot indian curry) with mates, rob had never had a fahl before, strongest he'd had was a chicken tikka masala, so this damn near killed him, we all get taxi's back home, rob wasn't doing so good so i made sure i got him to his house, wake up in his backyard sometime the next day, his bedroom window is always unlocked and about 7or 8 foot off the ground, he's trying to climb it himself, he's straining so hard to pull himself up, he shits his pants and falls on his arse to make it worse. Was a good night.