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Why you don't answer your phone in a public bathroom (900 hits)

Category: Humor -> Dirty Humor

Rating: -1.84 on 13 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by <webmaster.at.shittystories.com> (View user info) at 2008-05-20 11:27:56 EDT


All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning computer, incompetent co-workers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with a bowl of ass cleansing fibre cereal, following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell. As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to pick up an order for the wife. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about togo. I hurried to the mall bathrooms. I surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 1 through 5 for your convenience:
1. Occupied.
2. Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to theoccupied one.
3. **** smeared on seat.
4. **** and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered onseat.
5. No toilet paper, no stall door, something growing near base of toilet.
Public Bathroom Stalls

Clearly, it had to be Stall #2. I trudged back, entered, dropped my trousers and sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful ****ter. I wasn't happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot. I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. ****ter was blathering to Mrs. ****ter about the ****ty day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My ass let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier. Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder with one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude — a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit the resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently. Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased (2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there was more to come (3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench. It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence. "Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??" Now there was no stopping me. I pushed for all I was worth. I could swear that in the resulting cacophony of rips, squirts, splashes, poots, and blasts, I was actually lifted slightly off the pot. The amount of stuff in me was incredible. It sprayed against the bowl with tremendous force. Later, in surveying the damage, I'd see that liquid poop had actuallymanaged to ricochet out of the bowl and run down the side on to the floor. But for now, all I could do was hang on for the ride. Next door I could hear him fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task. Little ****tles of conversation made themselves heard over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw up... in my mouth... not... make it... tell the kids... love them... oh God..." followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching. Alas, it is evidently difficult to hold one's phone and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by string of swear words and gags. My ****-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet. There was a lull in my production, and the restroom became deathly quiet. I could envision him standing there, wondering what to do. A final anal announcement came trumpeting from my behind, small chunks plopping noisily into the water. That must have been the last straw. I heard a flush, a fumbling with the lock, and then the stall door was thrown open. I heard him running out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who'd be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle that unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor flooded with filth. As I left, I glanced into the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know. I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has managed to transfer my Shamefulness to my anonymous ****-mate. I think it'll be a long time before he can bring himself to **** in public — and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in the latrine. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the bathroom

www.shittystories.com

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User Reviews


Submitted by matnotharry (user info) at 2008-05-20 13:16:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

Holy Asterix Batman!

Submitted by HateMudkips (user info) at 2008-05-20 13:07:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

plagiarized.

poopreport.com

don't ask why I know this.

Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2008-05-20 12:24:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

**** you, dip****.

Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2008-05-20 12:20:00 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

nope.

Submitted by messmind (user info) at 2008-05-20 11:58:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Censoring on a unmoderated webdump? smart move.

Welcome to Uber.

Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2008-05-20 11:41:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

Didn't read it. I assume from the title that you have urinated on your mobile phone.

I'm afraid this means that you are not a success.

Submitted by orph (user info) at 2008-05-20 11:41:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

holy censored block of text!

Submitted by FALLEN (user info) at 2008-05-20 11:41:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

You should be honored that I logged in just to rate this piece of ****.
Welcome to Uber and remember

1. Go **** yourself.
2. never post a ****ing ****ball of a post like this again.
3. You are a worthless ****monger that should spend your days shoving ***** up your *** and ramming a horse ****bag into every ****ing hole you have.
4. Get the **** out, you *******.
5. hit the enter key to avoid the big block of text.

thanks



****head



Submitted by sexualchocolate1984 (user info) at 2008-05-20 11:38:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

I normally like shitty stories, shit can be funny. However, not so when it's star'd out.

**** off **** sucker.

Submitted by F.J.Bell (user info) at 2008-05-20 11:31:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

{shit comment about how shit this was}

shittycomments.com

Submitted by GodChicken (user info) at 2008-05-20 11:31:39 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

No Comment

Submitted by Littlebint (user info) at 2008-05-20 11:30:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

Wow a username that really says it all!

Submitted by Method (user info) at 2008-05-20 11:29:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

this was ****


Homer: I'm a bad father!

Selma: You're also fat!

Homer: I'm also fat!

Saturdays of Thunder