[smoosh]

Originally Posted by scorped

So, I have one, happened just yesterday. I'm at work and my stomach starts gurgling; immediately I'm mad at myself for having a spinach omelet for breakfast. Of the two closest restrooms, neither is available, so I have to do that clenched-cheek walk all the way to other side of the building. And of course, once I get there, the mens room is occupied. In a panic I do the only thing I can do in the moment; I say eff it and use the ladies room.....


.....and naturally, when I'm done and try to slink out stealthily, there's someone waiting to come in behind me. And, since my luck was already going so great, it happened to be my least favorite co-worker, and the one with the biggest mouth. So, by tomorrow, half the company will know I was in the ladies room, and left it smelling less than rosy.

The transgender bathroom laws should provide a reasonable excuse...

[UncleWede]

On those occasions when I have used the women's restroom, I always feel compelled to wipe the seat, even if I put it up before I went in, just in case the next person accuses me of peeing all over the seat.

And just how DID the seat get pissed on BEFORE I snuck in there??????? Poor aim while hovering?

[1MOREMOD]

I just leave it up to prove wasn't me

[NEFARIOUS]

I'll go...

TLDR: First time having the stomach flu: Boss still expected me to come in. Pulled over to puke, only about 30% of puke hit the toilet.

Finally reached work, had many false alarms, decided the next fart was another "cry wolf" but shat myself. I found black trash bags I used as an apron to go to my car, she didn't like that. She finds a floral drawstring skirt as a "viable alternative"; I decided I'd rather call my friend to drop off a pair of slacks.

Full version:

http://www.e90post.com/forums/showpo...9&postcount=60

[PINeely]

During my senior year in college everyone had reached that stage where you're relaxing and counting the days. We drank constantly and got familiar with one local bar. Calm atmosphere, easy to find a table off to the side and split a few pitchers over conversation. I met a guy in one of my spring classes and he was pretty cool. Both of our dads are Air Force men, same music taste, all that stuff. Since we were all going to the bar that night I invited him along to play pub quiz. He accepts, we plan to meet there at 7:30. I get there a little early and go upstairs to order a beer. I was just about to sit down when the aforementioned guy walks in. He has a popped yellow polo, lip gloss and, I shit you not, a fucking ferret on his shoulder.

He sits down and starts paling me up like we've known each other for years and everyone in the whole place is looking at me like where the hell did you find this guy. It quickly became apparent that he had a few screws loose, conspiracy theories and whatnot. Meanwhile the ferret is running all over the table, the lip gloss is on the rim of his glass, the polo keeps coming unpopped and he keeps popping it back. He pulls out a jar of vienna sausages and tells me to feed one to the ferret to get it to like me, I don't want to be rude so I do. My friends arrived one by one soon after and I had to surreptitiously explain to each of them exactly what had happened. They still give me shit to this day, and I honestly probably deserve it. About an hour into the night he vanished and I never saw him again, even in class.

The best part of the story: I later found out that he was kicked out of the dorms for letting some 30-something guy live with him there. Apparently the older guy didn't like to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night so he would pee in bottles and leave them around the room. Those somehow got spilled and they had to shut the whole hall for the rest of the semester while it was cleaned up. The guy dropped out soon afterwards.

TLDR: Learn to read people or you'll end up feeding a ferret at a bar.

[1LRM3]

Originally Posted by PINeely

During my senior year in college everyone had reached that stage where you're relaxing and counting the days. We drank constantly and got familiar with one local bar. Calm atmosphere, easy to find a table off to the side and split a few pitchers over conversation. I met a guy in one of my spring classes and he was pretty cool. Both of our dads are Air Force men, same music taste, all that stuff. Since we were all going to the bar that night I invited him along to play pub quiz. He accepts, we plan to meet there at 7:30. I get there a little early and go upstairs to order a beer. I was just about to sit down when the aforementioned guy walks in. He has a popped yellow polo, lip gloss and, I shit you not, a fucking ferret on his shoulder.

He sits down and starts paling me up like we've known each other for years and everyone in the whole place is looking at me like where the hell did you find this guy. It quickly became apparent that he had a few screws loose, conspiracy theories and whatnot. Meanwhile the ferret is running all over the table, the lip gloss is on the rim of his glass, the polo keeps coming unpopped and he keeps popping it back. He pulls out a jar of vienna sausages and tells me to feed one to the ferret to get it to like me, I don't want to be rude so I do. My friends arrived one by one soon after and I had to surreptitiously explain to each of them exactly what had happened. They still give me shit to this day, and I honestly probably deserve it. About an hour into the night he vanished and I never saw him again, even in class.

The best part of the story: I later found out that he was kicked out of the dorms for letting some 30-something guy live with him there. Apparently the older guy didn't like to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night so he would pee in bottles and leave them around the room. Those somehow got spilled and they had to shut the whole hall for the rest of the semester while it was cleaned up. The guy dropped out soon afterwards.

TLDR: Learn to read people or you'll end up feeding a ferret at a bar.

wtf did I just read... LMAO!!!! your buddies will never let you live that one down... never.

[PINeely]

Originally Posted by 1LRM3

wtf did I just read... LMAO!!!! your buddies will never let you live that one down... never.

I could write a novel with my bizarre college stories. A lot of them would probably be at home in this thread actually lol

[RJ_]

Originally Posted by Axius

Too many words. Anyone who actually reads just put some cliff notes.

TL;DR-

>Drunk Belgie makes out with chick
>Awake next day, mind's spaghetti
>Receive text from chick, thinks with little Belgie
>Drives to girl. She's still in bar parking lot for some reason (?)
>She's an ogre, Belgie literally couldn't even. Drives away.
>Sees her 3 years later, everything was cool

[Axius]

Originally Posted by RJ_

TL;DR-

>Drunk Belgie makes out with chick
>Awake next day, mind's spaghetti
>Receive text from chick, thinks with little Belgie
>Drives to girl. She's still in bar parking lot for some reason (?)
>She's an ogre, Belgie literally couldn't even. Drives away.
>Sees her 3 years later, everything was cool

Wow. That would have sufficed from the get go.


Thank you but, not thank you? Wasted 10 seconds of life. Back to the beer I go.

[KingOfJericho]

I remembered another as I was driving tonight.

Freshman year in college my girlfriend had a roommate who never slept in the room (had a boyfriend off campus) so I stayed there most nights. One morning as we were laying in bed and my chick was still sleeping I had to fart in a major way. I let about five sizable and very audible farts fly. I went to change positions and when I turned around the roommate and her boyfriend were sitting at her computer... they heard everything. They were looking at me like I just slaughtered a puppy in front of them. It was so awkward.

[1MOREMOD]

I got blackout puking drunk in Vegas and we had already checked out of room so slept on the public bathroom floor apparently. Wasn't sober at all at airport slept on the floor there also and was asked to move because people had to step over me while boarding. Got on plane and was little better could see straight but massive turbulence. Got up to puke in bathroom and was told couldn't use the bathroom due to turbulence.

[KingOfJericho]

Originally Posted by 1MOREMOD

I got blackout puking drunk in Vegas and we had already checked out of room so slept on the public bathroom floor apparently. Wasn't sober at all at airport slept on the floor there also and was asked to move because people had to step over me while boarding. Got on plane and was little better could see straight but massive turbulence. Got up to puke in bathroom and was told couldn't use the bathroom due to turbulence.

Please... go on.

[1MOREMOD]

I blew it on the stewardess for stopping me from using the rest room

[1MOREMOD]

I borrowed a buddies car he wasn't home, and promptly backed it into a huge ditch. Found a neighbor with a tractor and he pulled it out. Drove half way to my house and ran it out of gas. Got out and hitchhiked home called my friend to tell him where his car was I was down with it.

[1MOREMOD]

Stuck a knife into a lamp socket to see if it was working. Jumped off a roof with garbage bag to fly. Took a swim in catholic church fountain. Picked up hitchhiker at a jail in belize. Shit in public in cabo during spring break. Much more. I'm like Lloyd Christmas only lower iq.

[///M Power-Belgium]

Serious turbulence on this page...

[EALm4]

Have you guys read about the GS Private Plane incident? lol if not here's a copy and paste. Bit long but god damn hilariously written and 100% vetted true by multiple sources.

Before a company goes public, the highest level executives embark on a multi-city tour with their investment bankers to drum up support for the upcoming IPO. This trip is called a roadshow and since the group will typically visit dozens of cities on a tight schedule, a private jet is the preferred means of transportation. During a roadshow, it's not unusual to visit two or three cities in a single day so work starts at the crack of dawn. That doesn't mean the group goes to bed early. Every night, the bankers treat their clients to a wild night out in whatever town they are in, complete with thousand dollar dinners and endless alcohol. No matter how hard the group parties the night before, the private jet will lift them off to their next destination very early the next morning.

Just for a minute, pretend you're an investment banker traveling with some very important clients on one of these roadshows. Now imagine that you spent the previous night drinking way beyond your limit only to be startled out of bed by a piercing 6:30 am wake up call. In an attempt to get your head and body feeling remotely human again, you scarf down some waffles, eggs, bacon and at least two glasses of coffee at the hotel's breakfast buffet before jumping on the shuttle to the private airport. Within a few minutes of arriving at the airport, your entire group is seated and the plane begins to taxi down the runway. At this point you might feel a bit of relief as the morning's blur subsides. All you have to do is sit back and relax for the one hour flight to the next city.

There's just one problem. In your rush to get out of the hotel, down to breakfast and onto the plane you forgot to do one very crucial thing. Go to the bathroom. And I'm not talking about peeing. You have a stomach full of dinner, desert, drinks, eggs, waffles and coffee churning around your lower intestine at 30,000 feet. But that's not the worst part. True horror sets in when you realize you're not on a spacious 20 person G5 with couches, beds, lay-z boys and a fully tucked away private bathroom. No, on this day you are traveling on a six-person puddle jumper sitting shoulder to shoulder with your clients and co-workers. But wait, somehow the story gets even worse…


The Most Embarrassing Private Jet Flight Of All Time:

Just over halfway through the flight, all the coffee in my stomach feels like it's percolating its way down into my lower intestine. I hunker down and try and focus on other things. What feels like an hour, but probably isn't more than twenty minutes, passes. We then enter what turns out to be pretty violent turbulence. With each bounce, I have to fight my body, trying not to shit my pants. "Thirty minutes to landing, maybe forty five" I try and tell myself, each jostle a gamble I can't afford to lose. I signal to [the flight attendant] and she heads toward me.

"Excuse me, where is the bathroom, because I don't see a door?" I ask while still devoting considerable energy to fighting off what starts to feel like someone shook a seltzer bottle and shoved it up my ass. She looks at me, bemused, and says, "Well, we don't really have one per se." She continues, "Technically, we have one, but it's really just for emergencies. Don't worry, we're landing shortly anyway."

"I'm pretty sure this qualifies as an emergency," I manage to mutter through my grimace. I can see the fear in her face as she points nervously to the back seat. The turbulence outside is matched only by the cyclone that is ravaging my bowels. She points to the back of the plane and says, "There. The toilet is there." For a brief instant, relief passes over my face. She continues, "If you pull away the leather cushion from that seat, it's under there. There's a small privacy screen that pulls up around it, but that's it." At this point, I was committed. She had just lit the dynamite and the mine shaft was set to blow.

I turn to look where she is pointing and I get the urge to cry. I do cry, but my face is so tightly clenched it makes no difference. The "toilet" seat is occupied by the CFO, i.e. our fucking client. Our fucking female fucking client!

Up to this point, nobody has observed my struggle or my exchange with the flight attendant. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." That's all I can say as I limp toward her like Quasimodo impersonating a penguin, and begin my explanation. Of course, as soon as my competitors see me talking to the CFO, they all perk up to find out what the hell I'm doing.

Given my jovial nature and fun-loving attitude thus far on the roadshow, almost everybody thinks I'm joking. She, however, knows right away that I am anything but and jumps up, moving quickly to where I had been sitting. I now had to remove the seat top – no easy task when you can barely stand upright, are getting tossed around like a hoodrat at a block party, and are fighting against a gastrointestinal Mt. Vesuvius.

I manage to peel back the leather seat top to find a rather luxurious looking commode, with a nice cherry or walnut frame. It had obviously never been used, ever. Why this moment of clarity came to me, I do not know. Perhaps it was the realization that I was going to take this toilet's virginity with a fury and savagery that was an abomination to its delicate craftsmanship and quality. I imagined some poor Italian carpenter weeping over the violently soiled remains of his once beautiful creation. The lament lasted only a second as I was quickly back to concentrating on the tiny muscle that stood between me and molten hot lava.

I reach down and pull up the privacy screens, with only seconds to spare before I erupt. It's an alka-seltzer bomb, nothing but air and liquid spraying out in all directions – a Jackson Pollock masterpiece. The pressure is now reversed. I feel like I'm going to have a stroke, I push so hard to end the relief, the tormented sublime relief.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." My apologies do nothing to drown out the heinous noises that seem to carry on and reverberate throughout the small cabin indefinitely. If that's not bad enough, I have one more major problem. The privacy screen stops right around shoulder level. I am sitting there, a disembodied head, in the back of the plane, on a bucking bronco for a toilet, all while looking my colleagues, competitors, and clients directly in the eyes. "Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!" briefly comes to mind.

I literally could reach out with my left hand and rest it on the shoulder of the person adjacent to me. It was virtually impossible for him, or any of the others, and by others I mean high profile business partners and clients, to avert their eyes. They squirm and try not to look, inclined to do their best to carry on and pretend as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening, that they weren't sharing a stall with some guy crapping his intestines out. Releasing smelly, sweaty, shame at 100 feet per second.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry" is all the ashamed disembodied head can say…over and over again. Not that it mattered.

http://www.celebritynetworth.com/art...t-of-all-time/

[1MOREMOD]

That's funny shit, literally

[G35POPPEDMYCHERRY]

i died, but i can relate. sometimes u just gotta take a shite

[Mardio]

My embarrassing story was in high school. We had a school fair where three high schools came together for the event. I was hanging out with a group of buddies when one of them pointed out Jenny Taylor. Who was she? She was a fashion model, chearleader, prom queen, and every teenage boys dream. She went to a different high school but I proudly told my buddies I knew her, we used to be neighbors in grammar school. My friends called out bs and dared me to talk to her. I obliged and confidently strutted over to her while eating a bag of cheetos. She was surrounded by lots of her friends and mine followed me so there was a huge group as I engaged her. She gave me a friendly hug and said "hey" and I said "hey" back, unfortunately when I said "hey" a huge cheeto flew from my mouth and on to her forehead. Oh man was I mortified! All the kids starting busting up laughing. She played it off cool and just wiped it off but the damage was done. I still get shit from my old high school buddies for that episode.

[jtodd_fl]

Originally Posted by Mardio

My embarrassing story was in high school. We had a school fair where three high schools came together for the event. I was hanging out with a group of buddies when one of them pointed out Jenny Taylor. Who was she? She was a fashion model, chearleader, prom queen, and every teenage boys dream. She went to a different high school but I proudly told my buddies I knew her, we used to be neighbors in grammar school. My friends called out bs and dared me to talk to her. I obliged and confidently strutted over to her while eating a bag of cheetos. She was surrounded by lots of her friends and mine followed me so there was a huge group as I engaged her. She gave me a friendly hug and said "hey" and I said "hey" back, unfortunately when I said "hey" a huge cheeto flew from my mouth and on to her forehead. Oh man was I mortified! All the kids starting busting up laughing. She played it off cool and just wiped it off but the damage was done. I still get shit from my old high school buddies for that episode.

It's MARDIO!

[MKSixer]

Originally Posted by PINeely

During my senior year in college everyone had reached that stage where you're relaxing and counting the days. We drank constantly and got familiar with one local bar. Calm atmosphere, easy to find a table off to the side and split a few pitchers over conversation. I met a guy in one of my spring classes and he was pretty cool. Both of our dads are Air Force men, same music taste, all that stuff. Since we were all going to the bar that night I invited him along to play pub quiz. He accepts, we plan to meet there at 7:30. I get there a little early and go upstairs to order a beer. I was just about to sit down when the aforementioned guy walks in. He has a popped yellow polo, lip gloss and, I shit you not, a fucking ferret on his shoulder.

He sits down and starts paling me up like we've known each other for years and everyone in the whole place is looking at me like where the hell did you find this guy. It quickly became apparent that he had a few screws loose, conspiracy theories and whatnot. Meanwhile the ferret is running all over the table, the lip gloss is on the rim of his glass, the polo keeps coming unpopped and he keeps popping it back. He pulls out a jar of vienna sausages and tells me to feed one to the ferret to get it to like me, I don't want to be rude so I do. My friends arrived one by one soon after and I had to surreptitiously explain to each of them exactly what had happened. They still give me shit to this day, and I honestly probably deserve it. About an hour into the night he vanished and I never saw him again, even in class.

The best part of the story: I later found out that he was kicked out of the dorms for letting some 30-something guy live with him there. Apparently the older guy didn't like to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night so he would pee in bottles and leave them around the room. Those somehow got spilled and they had to shut the whole hall for the rest of the semester while it was cleaned up. The guy dropped out soon afterwards.

TLDR: Learn to read people or you'll end up feeding a ferret at a bar.

I'm late to this but you just won the internet for the week.