Page created 28 Apr 2003 by Juice
Plain and simple- worst bowel movement stories.
Hmmm, how pleasant.
I want to know if this was actually started by juice or if it was welcome posing as juice.
But somehow I knew it was Juice as soon as I saw the title.I'm not sharing any unless he goes first.
that this entree title is non-compliant. I'd like to change it to a menu-item, and not just a food oriented slogan.And I won't be sharing any stories.
I knew it was Juice as soon as i saw the title as well
I should have realized that it was him, but he's on so seldom that I was wondering if he actually got his ass on a computer and came on here.
i was up early one morning. everyone else was asleep. i was hungry. i rummage through the fridge for a while, and what do i find but a big, brand spanking new jar of one of my all-time favorite snack foods(they're not just a garnish anymore):PICKLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i can't express in words the love that i have for pickles, an affinity which probably began in the womb...... anyhow, so i start in on this jar of fresh, crisp, kosher dills.one, nowhere near enough. two, still not sated. three, not even close. four, well, i may as well stop counting because i'm not done until the WHOLE jar is gone. so, i'm sitting there on the kitchen floor in a white t-shirt, tube socks, and my underoos, looking down at this empty jar which just minutes ago was full of crunchy vinegary goodness, and for the first time in my short life i know true despair. BUT WAIT! pickles start out as plain old cucumbers, which i don't even like. they've got the crunch, sure, but they're nothing until they've been immersed in this bittersweet nectar of yore. EUREKA! this magic elixir takes bland, tasteless vegetables and turns them into mankind's greatest treasure. hope springs eternal as my "empty" jar becomes full again! even more pickle goodness, and i don't even have to chew! i was blind. how could it have taken me so long to see the light? i put the jar to my lips and drink electric nectar. Ambrosia. i didn't even stop to breathe until it was all over. i put the jar down, basking in the afterglow of my first truly religious experience. when suddenly..... brummmhhpplllpppmmmhhhrrrrmmmmhhhbbbblllppprrrmmmbbbbbhhhhrrrrrrmmmppppp this is close as i can come to describing the sounds which began issuing from my tummy. these sounds intrigued me, but i didn't have much time to ponder what they could possibly mean because there was a sudden urgency in the center of my being which could only mean one thing: TIME TO RUN. and i did, all the while knowing that it was in vain, because even as i was hoisting myself up off the kitchen floor, that urgency was expressing itself in tangible terms. now, you must understand that i had a long way to go before i could reach the safe haven of a bathroom. i was living in my grandparents' house, which was as big as it was labyrinthine. i was in the kitchen, which was at the back of the house, on the first floor. my objective lay at the end of an obstacle course comprised of a dining room, livingroom, recreation room, and ending in a winding staircase up to the second floor. at the top of that staircase:sanctuary. as i entered the diningroom i could sense that my spiderman underoos were beyond redemption, but all was not lost- all i'd have to do is clean myself off, hide the undies, and none's the wiser. this plan became less viable as i got to the living room, at which point my briefs began leaking, there contents slowly streaming down my legs as i beeline through the rec-room, leaving a trail behind me. all illusions of a discreet cleanup are shattered as i am jet-propelled up the stairs, at speeds beyond that reached by any seven year old, before or since, a green plume of exhaust issuing from behind me. i top the stairs, bolt through the bathroom door, and reach the toilet just as the last of the demon is exorcised. nothing made it into the can. and so, the moral of this little tale?
one CAN have too much of a good thing
or
absolute pickle corrupts absolutely
or
too much pickle juice make tummy go boom-boom.
kudos for the first poop post!
kudos. or bran muffins. or pickles in this case.
"The sweetest honey is loathsome in its own deliciousness."
a great telling of a not-so-great tale, personally I feel sorry for the underoos.
that this forum be renamed "bowl full of motts"
i broke the ice and still no one's willing to talk turd?
I used to live with this guy.
i just can't think of any stories that come near the one you posted man.