Saturday, June 9, 2012

I've said it before, If this is the worst thing that can happen to me today, then my life is awesome. Except for maybe this.

Sometimes awful things happen to you. Truly awful tragic things that make you wonder who you slashed to death with a kitchen knife in your past life to cause the karmic realm to hate on you so ferociously. But you suck it up. Cos some of us are pretty staunch like that. And you move on. Or if you are an attention seeking whore, you write about it.........just like this.

Something happened to me yesterday. Something so disgusting that I wasn't sure if I wanted to share it or not. And then I told someone about it, & they laughed so hard they were crying shame tears for me.

So here we are.

You know that scene from Bridesmaids when everyone gets the shits from eating bad Portuguese food? And when the bride to be is running across the road to the toilet & proceeds to make kakas in her pants?

If you've clicked where this post is going & are questioning whether or not you want to know what happened to me, I suggest you leave now. Y'all know by now that there ain't nothing sacred with me.

Well yesterday, while sitting quietly at my desk minding my own business, dabbling in a bit of actual work, I found myself needing to pass wind. For the record, as much as I seem to write about farts on this here blog, I am by no means a frenzied fart bomb dropper.

Anyway, as I let the built up intestinal wind unleash itself slowly from my backside, to my absolute horror I realised that wind wasn't the only thing released from my backside orifice.

I shat in my own pants.

Before I could fully register what had happened I was high tailing it to the work bathroom. Thank christ no one else was in the office at the time.

Upon inspection, yes it seemed the violent diarrhoea that had been plaguing me since the early hours of yesterday morning had not fully subsided. And I misjudged my abilities, or lack thereof, to omit a simple fart.

Another thing, regardless of the fact I swear like a truckers whore, I am indeed a lady. I don't like to dally in the bathroom for any longer than necessary. I am clean & borderline obsessive compulsive with personal hygiene. So much so, that sometimes my vigorous backend cleansing ritual leaves me feeling like I've wiped my ass right off. With a kitchen scourer. And it smarts.

So I found myself somewhat stranded with a stinky mess in my undergarments in the one work toilet. Any minute now one of my drivers could come in to use the bathroom. What the fuck do I do?

I took my chucks off, removed my brand new black skinny jeans, carefully removed the horror undies, & then I panicked. Before I could even think about what I was doing, I had shoved my soiled panties in the sanitary disposal bin. Fuck my life. Seriously what is wrong with me?

There I was, still stranded in the toilet, except now I had no panties, only a slightly moist in the ass pair of shit jeans.

It wasn't a big mess. Luckily my epic butt cheeks had contained the mess like they were trying to trap a small forest animal. Praise the fat ass. I cleaned myself up, then remembered I had a spare pair of undies in my gym bag. I re-troued, momentarily commando, & penguin walked, cheeks clenched like my entire life depended on it, back into my office to fetch my gym bag.

Back in the safe haven of the toilet, I put on my clean pair of lady bloomers, & my gym pants. Cos I couldn't put my black jeans back on. There was a moist patch on the ass crack that one can only assume was courtesy of my spontaneous anal leakage problem.

Then I rang my husband. Ashamed & feeling slightly foolish, I requested that he deliver me a clean pair of jeans to my place of work. After hosing himself laughing for a good 10 minutes he finally agreed.

He turned up 15 minutes later & could not look me in the eye. I sat at my desk, my top half all officey & proper, & my bottom half looking geared up to slug it out in the gym. I looked like a complete fuckwit.

Clean pair of daks on, I got on with my day. But I couldn't help but feel a bit nervous about the demon pants buried deep in the sanitary disposal bin in the toilet. A man comes & empties that bin at the start of every month. He's always happy even though he possibly has one of the worst jobs in the world, & he always leaves me a small packet of jellybeans on the counter. I don't even want to think about what he's going to think when he discovers the feral panties.

I am going to try & mentally will them to decompose into dust with my awesome mind powers.

Failing that, I have two other options. Either I attempt to dig them out & find another way of disposing of the upset colon crime, or I leave town the week he's due to come in. I won't accept his gracious jellybean offering. I don't deserve it.

Because I am a giant baby who shits in her pants.

Please pray for me people. Pray that my boss or any of my other work colleagues do not read this post. Because I will die.

I may be a cool guy, but shit really does happen. In my pants apparently.

UPDATE: The 'When farts gone bad' tragedy pants have been retrieved from the sanitary disposal bin. DO not ask.

Have you ever had something so embarrassing happen to you that you swore you'd never tell anyone? I've kinda set the bar pretty high but go on set your secret free. We are all friends here.

Peace & love
Mrs Shitty Pants x


25 comments:

  1. This is all I could think of when I read your story! I love your blog and I think you are awesome btw :) http://weknowmemes.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/i-may-have-over-trusted-that-fart.png

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    1. Jamie, I think you're awesome for still thinking I'm awesome after confessing I shat in my own pants on the Internet. Cheers for the link. Will check it out now.

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  2. When I was pregnant I started laughing so hard at Target that I pissed myself in the dressing room (they forget to mention at the doctor's office that pregnancy gives you the bladder control of a toddler after a 3 day beer bender). Worst part? When we walked out of the dressing room I totally blamed it on one of the little kids who'd been in there with his mom before me. I win at life. :)

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    1. I would have totally done that too. Seems more plausible that a small child had pissed all over the door. Well played my friend. Well played indeed x

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  3. Haha..... I'm so happy they were somehow retrieved! My worry wasn't so much for the guy who would have collected them - but for the stench they would have created as they ripened lol. *That* would have been embarrassing! I guess my worst would have been a period leak - but my friend noticed and I changed before anyone else saw - so it wasn't that terrible.

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    1. Haha thank you for sharing this. I think most women can empathise with the old sneaky bleeder leakage. Really does suck a festy gonad being a lady sometimes.

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  4. I've had 3 kids and pushed them all out my fadge and have never had any leakage problems thank god. However, I had my oldest kid when I was only 20 and I was single Mum, and I had fabulously huge tits while breast feeding. I was out one night with a friend, which believe me did not happen very often at all. I was chatting to a lovely looking man and suddenly realised that he was stating at my chest a bit too much. I looked down and saw that I had 2 huge wet patches on my chest and some lovely dribble marks as well. And that is why I didn't have sex for 2 years after my kid was born. Traumas like that.

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    1. Sweet Jesus, every day I hear more & more things that put me off pushing a watermelon sized vag shredding crotchling out my beave. I am adding this to the list.

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  5. Bex, its called over trusting your fart, and yes, I was laughing with you, not at you.

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    1. That makes me feel slightly better about shitting myself. Thanks x

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  6. Haha I've sharted myself before as well! Thankfully it wasn't a diahorrea one but I felt disgusted with myself none-the-less. I told you about the time I blocked the ladies toilet at work with a rock hard, ass-tearing boulder poo. My poor bloodied rectum...
    I farted out loud in a ladies office once too. That was awkward.

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    1. Carolyn I still have your detailed email regarding that terror poo. To date it is the best email I have ever received. I love that we have bonded over your gigantic shit.

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  7. Apparently you're more of a lady than I am if going commando for the rest of the day wasn't an option. The only time I put undies on is if I'm going to be wearing a skirt, so that would be never. Butt (didja see what I did there?), I never, ever, ever trust a fart, just because there's absolutely no line of defense between my pants and a juicy one.

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    1. My sister did the no undie shart thing the week before last. She told me after I text her & told her about my accident. It automatically made me feel better.

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  8. Bless your heart. We have all been there or somewhere near. I am reminded of my middle grandson at the Wooly Worm Festival and also at Vacation Bible School last year. He seems to shart quite a bit. He is 9, and when I had to take him clothes at Bible School I asked if he felt okay. He gives me that look that only kids looking at idiot adults can look, and says "Whut? I thought it was just a fart. Did you bring me some clothes?"

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    1. Ah bless, your grandson is beautiful! So honest & brave about his problem.

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  9. Once, after a night of drinking at a friend's house that was so epic I had to sleep over, I found myself awoken at 5 am with some tummy rumblings.

    I am, by nature, a morning pooper. And my friend had at the time a toilet with questionable flushing capabilities. Now, I am not the one who usually gets shit shy over a pal's house, but the last thing I wanted to do was overflow a toilet that was barely working in the first place. So, I figured that I would just hightail it home for my morning poop.

    I live 45 minutes away. Also, she lives in the middle of nowhere. Meaning, should an emergency occur, there are no rest areas around to relieve myself. As an outsider, you can already see the flaw in my plan, right?

    Like a hero, I flew out of there, determined to make it back to my bathroom so I could shit comfortably... with the newest issue of Glamor Magazine.

    I would love to tell you that that's exactly how it went down, but it would be a lie.

    I shit in my pants. In my car. 10 mins into my drive.

    So, for 35 more mins, I had to sit in my own feces with all my windows down (because sometimes your own smell really is offensive.) Did I mention I borrowed some pajama pants?

    I shit in my friend's pants.

    Needless to say, i cleaned up as soon as I got home. But I bought my girl new pants. Because I'm classy like that.

    My heart goes out to you.

    Hugs!

    Valerie

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    1. Holy shit I laughed reading this. I have a phobia of shitting in other people's toilets, like borderline mental illness type phobia. I've nearly shat & yakked in a taxi before. When I had a stomach bug. I was so close to duel exploding from each orifice that I started to have a panic attack.

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    2. I feel the same way! Usually me and my asshole are on the same page with this. We almost always wait til we get home. But apparently SOMEONE wanted to make a point about eating lots of cheese when your lactose intolerant.

      Point made, anus... Point made.

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  10. In the States there's a diet pill called Ali. I tried it. I will never give in to the lures of false promises again. Those 3 little pills a day turn all the fat you consume that day into runny oily poo.

    Sitting on the computer chair at home (thank GOD I wasn't at work), much like you, I decided I'd release a little air. Oh Holy Mary Mother of God that was NOT just gas. When I realized that it felt like my ass was oozing I realized that I was sitting in what can only be described as a small oil spill. Completely ruined my favorite sit around the house pants and I had to convince my husband to throw out the computer chair. Even though it was pleather and easily cleaned the memory was too much. It had to go.

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    1. I am clapping like a retard seal reading this. It's so comforting to know that I am not the only giant baby in the world.

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  11. I had to consciously not shit myself when I was reading this. Thank God that I NEVER do anything embarrassing, like over trust my tolerance and pass out in the gutter or puke on some person's beloved new chair that they just spent the entire evening talking about or faint in a lecture hall full of 200 people, or get bucked off of my horse in an arena with 10,000 people watching, or sweat profusely ALL THE TIME or yell loudly and wave (like a retarded seal), only to discover that I don't, in fact, know that person that I am screaming at. And I would NEVER ever announce private things at random and inappropriate times or fart on the second date. Nope.

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  12. Ohhh you are not the only one lady. I once had to stop for an emergency poop on the side of the road late at night. The nice people who pulled over to help a stranded girl got the shock of their life when they got to the front of my car only to discover me squatting and moaning. By mutual eye contact we both silently agreed that this incident never had witnesses.

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  13. The comments make me realise that sharting is the last taboo. I had no idea so many people were suffering, there needs to be some kind of awareness campaign. And to turn this into a lame comment- I have to ask, how did you accumulate so many followers? Do you have any tips? I have been blogging for a year and only have 14 (though I do have a fair few facebook followers)... I don't feel my content is the issue, though feel free to check me out and tell me if that is the case!

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I love reading your comments. Comments are sexy.