11-15 Good/Awkward/Funny Moments
11. I sh*t my pants when I headed back to Iraq after 2 weeks R&R. Every time I went back to Iraq from the US, I’d have the worst diarrhea for about 2 weeks. This time was a bit different. After 3 weeks of liquid sh*t pouring out of my ass, I decided to go to the military hospital in the Green Zone and see if they could help. I’m waiting in line with other people who have serious maladies and when my turn came I spoke to the waiting medics and told them about my problem. They in turn announced to anyone in ear shot that I had a “poopie problem” and “Do you need some medicine because your butt hole hurts?” “Pussy!” They continued to berate me for wasting their time as they had other serious injuries they needed to attend to and at this point everyone in the waiting room is having a good laugh at my expense. They finally gave me some Flagyl for my guts and some Imodium and told me to get the fu*k out of the hospital and not to come back again until I had a broken bone or gunshot wound for them to work on.
I gladly left and headed out the front door. I started to walk across the street from the hospital to the bus stop and had just put my right foot on the curb to step up from the street and I had to fart. I didn’t think anything of it and let it rip. In an instant, what must have been a gallon of liquid sh*t rocketed out of my ass, down my pants, filled up my boots, and began pouring out onto the hot asphalt. Now here I am, right foot on the curb, left foot in the street, and frozen in horror in a really twisted Captain Morgan’s pose with sh*t leaking out of my pants. The bus pulls up to the bus stop and the Pakistani driver opens the door and in his Pakistani accent says, “Well come on buddy let’s go!” I just turned and looked and him and said, “Nah man, please…please just leave.” He then proceeded to ask me why I was standing at a bus stop if I didn’t want to get on the bus and how illogical that is, etc, etc, etc. He obviously couldn’t see the humiliating situation I was in, but at this point, everybody on the bus was looking and they had a bird’s eye view. So now I’m arguing with the Pakistani driver, the rest of the soldiers on the bus are pointing, laughing, and taking pics. So I finally had enough and told the driver, “JUST PLEASE GET THE FU*K OUTTA HERE OK?!” So the driver gives me the finger and says “Fu*k you asshole!” closes the doors and the bus pulls away leaving me still frozen in my Captain Morgan’s pose with the liquid sh*t creating an ever growing pool around me.
The US embassy (where I stayed) is about a mile away so I suck it up and began walking the longest mile I’d ever walked in my life. It was easy to follow me along my journey because there was liquid sh*t squishing out of my boots with every step along the way. So I finally get to the US embassy and if you think the TSA and Homeland Security Nazis at the airport are tough to deal with, you’ve never been through an embassy checkpoint manned by Marines! Only 10 people are allowed into the checkpoint at a time. Once inside, a heavy glass and steel door shuts and you have to take everything out of your bag to be x-rayed and searched. You then have to walk thru a metal detector and then get frisked. Once all 10 people have been processed, the exit door opens to this airlock-like room and you can proceed to the embassy grounds. So needless to say, I’m dreading this obstacle standing in the way between me and my trailer and ultimately showering all of this sh*t off me, but I knuckle down and get in line. Eventually I make it into the “airlock” search room and one of the Marines says “Damn! Who ripped one?!” I humbly raised my hand and told him that it was much worse and I’d “Had an accident.” He walks over to me from behind the counter and says “Fu*k man! You’re leaking sh*t all over the fu*king floor!” “What the fu*k dude?” “One of us has to clean this sh*t up you know!” “Fu*king asshole!” (2nd time I’d been called that in 30mins) So I apologized profusely while a couple of people are trying to politely conceal their dry heaving and ask the Marines if they could just please let me go on thru. They replied, “Oh fu*k no!” “Not gonna happen!” “You’re gonna get searched just like everybody else fu*kin mc nasty.” So the 2 of them approach me closer (while the other 9 people are watching this spectacle) and proceed to play rock-paper-scissors to find out who’s going to have to frisk my sh*tty ass. Rock ultimately triumphed over scissors and a very pissed off Marine donned surgical gloves and frisked me, but only after I walked thru the metal detector leaving a trail of sh*t behind me of course. After I was frisked and thoroughly searched, I had to wait for everyone else to be searched, etc. It took what seemed like an eternity. Finally, the door opens and I begin the last 400 yard walk to my trailer while passing people look at me with various expressions of laughter, sympathy, and disgust.
I finally make it to my trailer and was especially quiet as to not wake my room mate, but alas, I wasn’t quiet enough and he woke up, sniffed, and said “Damn man, what’s that smell?” “Did you sh*t yourself or something?” Now I know he said that half jokingly, but then he wiped the sleep out of his eyes and beheld the horror that had been the past hour of my life, leaking out onto the floor of our trailer. I just said, “Yeah man, I’ll clean it up, but only after I shower if ya don’t mind.” He just shook his head and hacked a bit and then dry heaved a couple of times. I got in the shower fully dressed and proceeded to try and unf*ck myself out of this very sticky and smelly situation. After rinsing all fouled clothing and myself repeatedly, I quickly mopped the floors, changed clothes, and bundled up my uniform into a plastic bag.
As I made my way to the dry cleaners, I tossed my boots into a dumpster as there was no way a mile’s worth of squished in sh*t was ever going to rinse out. I also happened to notice bits of the sh*t trail I left along the way and this just added to my utter humiliation. I arrived at the dry cleaners to drop off my uniform and the clerk asked me, “Why are they wet?” I told him that I had mistakenly put them in the wash a couple of days ago, but then removed them once I’d realized my mistake and the reason they smelled so bad was probably mildew since they’d sat in a plastic bag for so long. The Indian clerk replied in his Indian voice, “No my friend, that smells like sh*t.” To which I replied, “Look man, can you just please fu*king take my clothes and dry clean them?!” “I’m having a real bad day.” To which he replied, “Ok ok, friend, but don’t be such an asshole.” Talk about a bad day in Baghdad…
12. A couple of seniors of my high school were pulling into parking lot, before school, in a “beater F-150”. It was a nice Friday morning and they had come up with this silly plan to do a drive-by mooning of some “popular girls”. ( No doubt to impress) They had done this before so they had a rehearsed plan. As they proceeded to pull closer to the girls, the driver honks his horn as the passenger drops his pants and sticks his ass all the way out the window. The passenger felt a nice fart welling up inside at this time, so he decided it would be extra funny to turn this into a drive-by gassing. He executed with precision timing.
Here is where it all goes wrong.
The previous day was Senior Ditch Day and he spent much of the previous day consuming copious amounts of alcohol, apparently passing out a number of times. So when he “let ‘er rip” it was not a bubble of gas he was releasing, so-much-as a torrent of bile and fecal matter, in the form of a geyser. From five feet away at eye level, he had unleashed 24pk o’ sh*t and hosed the girls. While the first escaped with little damage, the two other girls had taken direct hits. Vomit, screaming and crying was produced by many spectators.
13. When I was 13 a doctor wrote me an adult dose for a certain medicine based on my weight. I was a fat kid. Our body does not work that way and the medicine ended up constipating me for a month. I did not sh*t for a whole month. I got sick. I had racoon-like eyes, my stomach would jump or flutter by itself, I had cramps, etc. It was bad. I was miserable.
I finally told my parents how long it had been since i had sh*t and they freaked out and took me to the hospital. There, they gave 3 enemas back to back. After the third and final one, all that water softened all that sh*t up just enough that I could expel it. I ran to the nearest bathroom, gown open in the back, and tried to make it to the toilet.
My ass was hovering at a 45 degree angle above the toilet when the geyser burst. This next part is not a lie, but i know some of you will think it is, I got sh*t everywhere. On the ceiling (somehow), on the floor, the toilet was covered, the walls, even the sink got hit with some spray. Sh*t was literally, yes literally, sprayed on all walls and ceiling. It was everywhere.
I felt like a new kid after that. Cleaned myself up the best i could and then had to figure out what to do. There was no way i could clean it all up, I needed a janitor. So I walked out and politely told a nurse the bathroom need a clean up and badly.
A janitor was only a few rooms down for some reason so I saw him go by to clean it, but he did not know who I was, he got to the bathroom and the whole ER heard, “Oh Hell no, I ain’t cleaning this up. I quit.” and he did. I felt so bad, still do. I made some poor janitor quit his job over a sh*t-caked bathroom.
14. I work in IT at a graduate school at a large, semi-prestigious university. After attending to a call, I came back up the stairwell and as I opened the door I saw a yellow jacket (wasp) on the door frame next to the handle.
Keeping the door open (because I didn’t want the little asshole to get spooked and fly off), I took my shoe off and THWAPED him pretty hard (perhaps a little harder than intended). He fell, and I said to myself, “Good job, me, you saved the school”.
Almost immediately after that, there’s a school lockdown. I’m told to get in my office, lock the doors and shut the lights off. There’s some important government people who work here, so I figure maybe they do this as a drill every so often so whatever. But I’m still kind of nervous. I texted someone up at the front desk “wtf” and they texted back “there was a gunshot”.
I guess that staircase is pretty echo-y, because the next thing I know I’m trying not to laugh as police officer is questioning me, getting my information, and taking pictures of my kill like he’s the fu*kin wasp FBI. At some point I heard mention of a SWAT team on standby. It didn’t even die, it was still wiggling around as he was photographing the crime scene. I can’t work here anymore, everyone’s calling me “shooter”. I was just trying to help.
15. So I’ve been traveling in Africa for a while, now. About four days ago, I got really sick. I was puking all day, had diarrhea, stomach aches. It really sucked. Nothing seemed to help. Fast forward to today and still I haven’t left my hotel room for more than 20 minutes at a time since I got sick. I was feeling better, but really faint because I hadn’t eaten. I had a light breakfast and decided that I was going to go to the beach. I know that a lot of places here don’t have washrooms, so I chose wisely and went to a beach front bar where I was 100% certain that they had a bathroom.
So I’m on the beach, tanning, drinking water, reading, when all of a sudden, I need to sh*t NOW. So I get up and hobble over to the washroom with my butt muscles tensed up as to not leak liquid sh*t everywhere. “Lady! Lady! Sorry, the bathroom’s getting repaired right now, you can’t go in,” the bartender explains. “WHAT NO IT’S OK I’LL USE IT ANYWAYS!” “Umm, no you can’t, there’s someone fixing it.”
I was desperate, and I told him it was an emergency, and he laughed it off saying, “Just go in the ocean, everyone does.” Turns out the closest bathroom was a 7-10 minute walk away. So get into the water and start swimming out as fast as I can. I get about twice as far as the second furthest person and look around. No boats, no surfers, no swimmers. I pull down my bathing suit and start to let out a massive load of orange pudding-like sh*t. It creates this DISGUSTING cloud and half started floating up, so I swim a few meters away with my bottoms still down.
Then, I look down into the water and see there’s four scuba divers about 2 meters below me, completely grossed out, pointing at my cloud of diarrhea to warn each other and swimming away as fast as they could. I sh*t on scuba divers. I left the beach immediately and now I’m back at my hotel.
16-20 Good/Awkward/Funny Moments
16. This happened a few months ago. So I got off early from work and came home. My wife had been over at the neighbor’s place and was just coming back inside. I was just about to leave the bathroom (right next to our back door) and impulsively thought I could be really funny. So, waiting for the perfect moment, I opened the door and yelled right as she walked past.
It was perfect. She screamed and jumped really badly, and then began to laugh really hard as she realized what had happened. But there was one thing I had not taken into account during my impulsive decision. My wife was 39 1/2 weeks pregnant. Keyword: WAS. Yep. I scared my wife into labor. At first we thought it was just false contractions again, but very quickly realized that this was the real thing. Thirteen hours later and we have a beautiful, healthy baby girl.
Everything worked out well, but during labor my wife was NOT amused (though the doctor was a little) when she told him what had caused her to go into labor. Still, lesson learned: do not try to be funny by scaring your heavily pregnant wife.
17. This happened a few years back. I was at a free clinic for women to get a physical exam. They basically only check to see if you have scoliosis or not and clear you for all physical activity. After filling out my paperwork and waiting in line for about 4 hours, I was finally granted my five free minutes in the office.
I sat on the table in my t-shirt and shorts and smiled politely as the old man with the stethoscope entered. He bluntly asked “Please, show me your form.” To which I replied by sitting up as straight as I could on the table. He looked at me, and again he said “miss, I need to see your form.” Slightly frustrated, I sat up even straighter. When he again said nothing, I asked “How do you want to see my form? Sitting down? Standing?”
At this point the doctor is staring at me with a look of mass confusion. He asked me yet again to see my form and in a flustered panic, I took off my shirt and stood there in his office, showing off my perfect form. The doctor proceeded to burst out in laughter and through his cackling squeezed out the words “Your papers! I just wanted to see your papers.”
He told me in his 30 years of working that clinic, a girl had never stripped for him when he asked to see her form. I never went back. Moral of the stories, if they ask to see your form, they probably just want to see your paperwork.
18. One day I went to the store to get some oranges as I’m trying to eat healthier and needed some fruit in my life. On my way out I notice a homeless man sitting by the wall and thought I’d be generous and throw him an orange, so with a weak underarm throw the orange goes flying through the air and hits him square in the face, I quickly find out he’s blind after a lot of apologizing and offer to peel the orange for him.
19. I walk into Starbucks and take my place at the end of a rather long line. I notice in front of me a group of about 10 adult men who have Down Syndrome who are on a “field trip” and being chaperoned by an older woman. The woman turns to me and says “we are going to be a while, why don’t you go in front of our group.” She then loudly announces to her entire group that I will be skipping ahead in line and that it’s ok. I thank her and begin to walk up the side of the line, looking at each man in line as I pass to ascertain whether he has down syndrome, and continue forward to find where their group ends and my new place in line is. I lock eyes with the front most man who has Down Syndrome, and slide into line in front of him. A few moments later I get a tap on the shoulder, and the man I had moments ago locked eyes with begins to explain in a broken, defeated voice that he’s not with that group. I respond “oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were…” and my voice trails off as I realize that I had mistaken this rather unattractive man as having down syndrome and pretty much everyone in Starbucks saw it go down. He stood there uncomfortably shifting on his feet for a moment and then B-lined it for the door, didn’t even get his coffee. So awkward. I can’t even imagine the damage I did to his self esteem.
20. So this happened a few years ago. In grade school, we were pretty messed up and racist kids. The Mexican kids would always butt heads with the Asian kids and that would be settled in soccer games. Of course, during the games, obscenities would be thrown around. Won’t be forgetting this one anytime soon. My opponent yells at me “Hey I banged your mom last night” like a typical middle schooler. I shout back “Yeah, at least I have a mom” cleverly. Next thing I know, he’s running off the field with his head in his hands. Turns out, his mom had gotten deported last week. Later that week, he socked me in the jaw.