Hold onto your butts, readers. It’s time for Tushy’s 2019 Poop Horror Stories. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll want to keep a change of clothes in your car. Because at the end of the day, everybody poops. It just doesn’t always make it into the toilet.
Poop Horror Story #1: Loose Noodles
In college, I ate one of those cheap microwave spaghetti dinners after warming it up in one of the public microwaves on campus. While driving home, I hit traffic on the 405 South in Los Angeles. That’s when it hit — the unmistakable gurgling that signaled an epic poop about to come.
Before long I was sweating, furiously clenching my butt cheeks, and just hoping for a break in the traffic that would let me exit the freeway. My only glimmer of hope was that I was close to the office where I worked part-time. It was closed by then, but I had a key to the building. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally made it to the office, parked and sprinted up the stairs.
You know those times when you really have to pee and you make it just under the wire? You’re there, hovering over the toilet with your underpants halfway down, knowing that relief is seconds away. So you let your guard down and accidentally pee all over yourself.
It was a lot like that, but this time with epic, burning, cheap spaghetti dinner poop.
Poop Horror Story #2: Nanny Diarrheas
I have been a nanny for close to 10 years. One time, I was taking care of a four-month-old boy, and I took him to a music class for babies. All of a sudden, he has a poop-splosion so big, it went straight out his diaper and onto my lap. The moms in the class just looked at me, horrified. No one offered any baby wipes, paper towels, or anything. The teacher of the class just acted like she didn't notice, even though the putrid smell of digested breast milk was filling the room. Luckily, I had an extra outfit for the baby. Unfortunately, I didn’t have one for me. Needless to say, we did not stay for the remainder of the class.
Poop Horror Story #3: POOperty Brothers
I'm a Realtor and I was showing houses to a couple that I hadn't met in person yet. The first place that we went to see was a vacant lot for new construction. We had to meet the listing agent at the lot to view the floor plans. As he was going on and on talking about the property, my stomach really started rumbling. I was hoping it was just gas but as the minutes passed, the urgent sensation in my bowels kept getting stronger. I knew if I didn't leave quickly, I would poop my pants right there.
It was a bit unprofessional, but I had to excuse myself to "go use the restroom." In the three minutes that it took me to race to the Wendy's down the street, my bowels exploded. It was horrifying. In that moment, as I was driving my brand new Altima, time stood still. The warm soft poop filled the crevice of my butt crack and then turned upwards towards my back.
I now understood why babies cried when they pooped their diapers. I wanted to cry too, but I was too shocked. It took about 15 minutes, but I managed to clean myself up enough in the Wendy's bathroom so that I could go back to my clients. Needless to say, that pair of underwear never made it out of the Wendy's bathroom. RIP cupcake print underwear, gone too soon. I did go back to work and I made it through showing my clients three more houses in the next hour and a half. I had violent diarrhea again later that night after I got home. It was awful. The only positive was that the nice couple ended up buying the very first property. So in the end, I guess it was worth the butt eruption.
Poop Horror Story #4: Gas Tank on Eww
Why, just this last Monday, I went a-poopin' in my pants (by accident, naturally). I was driving when it happened, and my car didn't have enough gas to make it all the way home. So I stopped at a gas station to fuel up, drawers droopin’, and I saw my friend Khushbu for the first time in years. She hugged me, while I had my own poop in my pants. I was so embarrassed that I sent her a follow-up email.
- Bill R.
You’ll never know when the horrors of an unexpected poo will sneak up on you and drag you down into the stinky pits of despair. Be prepared with TUSHY Travel! Our portable bidet fits in your purse, backpack, or glove compartment. It’s the perfect way to clean away all of that toxic booty slime and butthole grime with a clean refreshing stream of water.