Below are a few of my favourite stories. A couple of them were just unlucky, or in the wrong place at the wrong time. Dont lie to yourself, they definately apply to all of you in more ways than one. And by the way, whenever I refer to "a friend of mine", I am not referring to myself, except when I am. In which case you will never know unless it is in fact you who I am talking about, in which case you'll know. You'll know.
"Oops, you crapped on uncle Jack's farm"
A newly wed friend of mine was staying at her uncle Jack's Aloe farm with a bunch of family and her newly wed husband. The family decided to go for a long stroll around the farm. My friend (let's call her Susan) and her husband were strolling along when the feeling suddenly hit Susan. There was not a toilet in sight When you gotta go you gotta go.Susan and her new husband (which, I might add, had no idea of her IBS at the time they married) opted to stray to the back of the crowd and nonchalantly observe the Aloes,one of millions on the farm. When the coast was clear, Susan darted for the nearest cover, and went about her business. Needless to say when she was done, the only form of tp around her was an abundance of aloes. Ouch. No thanks. So she went for the only possible option, she just used her undies and then tossed them aside either to be eaten by a hungry dassie or to be used as very crap fertiliser for the aloes. Thinking nothing of it, and carrying on with her stroll, she mentioned none of this to her husband and tried to act like she hadnt just performed this demeaning act. Until the next day when they went on a game drive around the farm and passed the exact spot where the misdemenour had occurred. Susan realised in horror that it was at this place because, when she had carelessly disposed of her panties, she had, in fact, thrown them directly into the tree above her whose poor, unsuspecting branches hung directly over the road, and thereby, her unassuming shitty undies hung there too, just waiting to be discovered by her family and her new husband. Very pleasant.
"Oops, you crapped and broke the toilet"
You know when you go to a new friend's house and you're too afraid to do a number 2 because you havent yet established where poo-humour stands in your friendship? Or simply where poo stands? We've all been there. This story is one of my favourites. *Mike and a couple of his friends had gone over to their new friend *Amy's house for the weekend. I repeat, new friend. One is never comfortable pooing in a new environment, particularly a new friend's home. You dont want to offend them, and you also dont want them to know that you poo. So what do you do? You cant just not poo the entire weekend. My best technique is the one I call "the shower" technique. Where you say you're going to have a shower, then you go about your business and shower afterward, giving the smell time to evaporate by the time you vacate the shower, leaving your unassuming host none the wiser.
However, this technique doesnt work for everyone. Especially when the toilet breaks because the poo you have made destroyed their plumbing. This was the case for my poor friend *Mike. He is also a fan of the "shower" technique, and made ample use of it over the weekend at his new friend's house. It worked until the toilet didnt want to flush because of his monster duke. Mike was flustered, he had no idea what to do. I mean, what would you do? You dont want to alert your host to the fact that you have broken their toilet by crapping in it, because what if they come in and try to fix it and see your poo? Goodbye new friend, hello ostracism. It's a sticky situation. So Mike did what any humiliated homosapien would do, he started the shower. He then scooped out the poo into a plastic bag (God knows where that came from) and climbed out the bathroom window, taking his loot with him. Now, any normal human being would simply have run away, carrying their bag of faecal matter on their back, and left the country. But not Mike. No. After climbing out the window he found a secluded spot in the garden, away from the prying eyes of his host and he began to dig a hole. He buried his own crap in his new friend's garden like it was a beloved pet who had been a part of the family for decades. After this he returned to the bathroom via the window and carried on with his fake shower. Hours later he emerged, feeling very proud of himself. I dont know whether to be proud or appalled, but it does make you think, doesnt it?
"Oops, you crapped when you fainted"
Shame. This is a most unfortunate story of a friend whose dehydration and sickness caused her to void her bowels on the kitchen floor of her family friends' chalet in the Christmas holidays. She was already sick with food poisoning due to Berg water, which didnt help, and so she avoided the family outing to the golf course and opted for a quiet morning at the chalet, crapping her brains out. At some point she was fooled into thinking she was strong enough to go to the kitchen and pour herself a refreshing glass of Coca Cola. She was wrong. The blood went straight to her head and she fainted on the kitchen floor. When she came to, she discovered to her dismay, that she had sharted on the kitchen floor. ("Sharted" Def: When you fart and a bit of shit comes out) Thank the pope anybody who may have been around to witness the event were out on the golf course. But still, it happened. And somebody had to clean it up. Im just saying.
"Oops, you crapped on the dance floor"
This is among one of the worst. You think its funny to fart on the dance floor because nobody knows that its you. But its a different story when you crap your pants on the dance floor. Particularly if you are wearing a g-string and a skirt. There isnt really anywhere for it to go. So what does one do? A friend of mine suffered this exact dilemma. Later, she pondered whether she could've behaved more appropriately and avoided the situation altogether. But thats irrelevant, because it had already happened.
Once she'd crapped her pants, or skirt, she knew she had to get to the bathroom, albeit a bit too late. But how does one get there when you are wearing a g-string and a short skirt? Do you walk swiftly to the bathroom just to get there and risk dropping doodies on your way? Or do you creep and clench the whole way there, but then allow the smell to linger which'll make your peers more suspicious of your slow and unsturdy creep? Tough call. Very tough call. Im not sure how she got there, but word is she's still alive and thriving, so everything must've worked out.
Even if you've never told anyone about your mishap, it doesn't make it disappear.
We're all the same. We're all just crusing through life, breaking hearts and trying not to crap our pants.
Lolzies...lets not forget that incident when a dear friend of ours had to hold herself up by the car strap after an evening out at The Pizza Shack. Trying not to crap, prompting a yell from her dad "....... DID YOU JUST CRAP IN YOUR PANTS"!!!!!!!
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