Advice Please

[Sirfindafold]

who gives a fuck?

[MgoBlue-LightSpecial]

Why would a guy who calls himself an "A-hole" really be concerned about this?

[Mikey]

Just convince yourself that he'll think it was somebody else.

[Screw_Michigan]

I just destroyed a bathroom in the buiilding where I am employed. Not physically destroyed, but olfactarily (sp?). Anyway, a nice guy who I run into all the time came into the area just as I exited the bathroom. I hesitated...do I warn him or not? I went on, hoping he would turn to the stairwell door rather than the restroom door. He didn't. He may be dead now. If he survived, should I apologize to him next time I see him?

Should this have been addressed to Heloise or Miss Manners rather than T1B?

I thought you retired?

[Goober McTuber]

I just destroyed a bathroom in the buiilding where I am employed. Not physically destroyed, but olfactarily (sp?). Anyway, a nice guy who I run into all the time came into the area just as I exited the bathroom. I hesitated...do I warn him or not? I went on, hoping he would turn to the stairwell door rather than the restroom door. He didn't. He may be dead now. If he survived, should I apologize to him next time I see him?

Should this have been addressed to Heloise or Miss Manners rather than T1B?

Is .net no longer an option?

[Cuda]

Why would a guy who calls himself an "A-hole" really be concerned about this?

Exactly right (don't fucking get used to it).

[indyfrisco]

Use the "Dude - somebody just really fucked up the can - I almost vomited" scenario. Always works. :D

Too late now. He already took the walk of shame without a peep. Sometimes, inaction is action within itself.

[ucantdoitdoggieSTyle2]

it'd be tantamount to admitting that my shit stank to high heaven.

You sound like a broad. It's shit, dude. It's supposed to stink. You should be high fiving/chest thumping peeps for totally kicking the shit out of the men's room.

[smackaholic]

Yeah, it's one of those deals where, if I said something now, it'd be tantamount to admitting that my shit stank to high heaven.

Yet, on the other hand, I don't particularly want this dude thinking I'm the nastiest sumbitch in the building either. We got one guy who "owns" a bathroom due to the nasal hair-smoking dumps he takes. No one will go near the damn room...ever. I don't wanna be equated with him.

You work with lumpy?

Lumpy was this morbidly obese fukk I used to work with. Actually, he was about a hundred pounds past morbidly obese. Anyway, the plant's men's room was, unfortunately next to the break area. Most of the building was typical industrial type building with about a 30 ft high ceiling. The can had a normal height drop ceiling with a pretty beefy ceiling fan which vented into the rest of the factory. This was not a problem for normal folks as the volume of air outside was enough to dilute the stank to a point where it was unnoticable outside the shitter.

So, lumpy would go on his morning bombing run around 9-9:30 when a number of folks were generally in the break area having coffee. The fukking area would empty at the site of the lumpster waddling towards the can as the entire area would become uninhabitable when he dropped the bomb. Nothing scarier than to be sitting in stall one and see the lumpman's unmistakable shoes and sequoia like ankles appear next door. You'd pinch that fukker off and run if you had any sense.... or olfactory nerves.

[Trampis]

Yeah, it's one of those deals where, if I said something now, it'd be tantamount to admitting that my shit stank to high heaven.

Yet, on the other hand, I don't particularly want this dude thinking I'm the nastiest sumbitch in the building either. We got one guy who "owns" a bathroom due to the nasal hair-smoking dumps he takes. No one will go near the damn room...ever. I don't wanna be equated with him.

I worked in a warehouse a long time ago and the old guy who was the warehouse manager was the same way. The warehouse was an old building with and old style bathroom, meaning there were about 4 stalls and 6 urinals. The end stall was his. Due to all the caffeine he got from drinking 4-5 Cokes a day he must have took 4 or 5 dumps a day. He littered the end stall with newspapers and If I remember right he had an ashtray also for his dureing poop smoke.

He also had really bad bleeding pshoriasis. He'd be itching all day, picking scabs...good guy though, likeable.

[R-Jack]

Reminds me of a similar thread that got axed in the KaOtis fiasco. I couldn't believe I still had it saved, or had it saved at all.

First off, I’d like to give myself a pat on the back for my recent weight loss. I joined up a gym in April after I tipped the scales at 215 lbs on my last checkup. I never weigh myself and my clothes didn’t seem to be fitting different so I never noticed the 15 lb spike. Fuck that. I started hitting the gym and have been going at least five times a week doing weights and cardio. Yesterday I hit 191 on the scale at the gym. Fuckin A. Not only do I feel slimmer, stronger and have more energy, the severe lower back pain that has plagued me the last few years just disappeared after actually doing some core training.

Of course I have made some changes to my eating habits to make this work worth the while. I always thought that I ate healthy, but that scale proved that I was obviously a healthy eater. I cut out a lot of refined flowers and HFCS and kept a healthy eye on fiber and protein content. With that said, I am just leaving exit wounds in my fucking toilet on a daily basis. Just yesterday I was able to take in 80 grams of fiber within 1700 calories of food. You motherfuckers can punch my ticket for Kansas City. I’m headed to the Shit Taking Hall of Fame if I keep this routine up.

I told you that story to tell you this story. I have plenty of reasons to think my boss is a goddamn idiot, but almost demanding that I cut my vacation short next week to attend a tedious training meeting that I have already been a part of. I had to explain to him that not only have I attended this training, I have been trained on how to deliver this training. While the douche was stammering “…but…but...but my records show…” I had to put human resources on speaker and have them explain that I was right. Even after that the son of a bitch still had the nerve to ask if I was able to work that same day because so many people are going to this training. Needless to say, I walked out of there with my vacation intact. The life of a register jockey is fraught with challenge I tells ya.

After this abject failure of a discussion, I head off to my nearby Pete’s for a cup of coffee. While I am there, there put out a pot of piping hot tea for the patrons to sample. As the semi washed hippie queer handed me my cup of joe, I saw a little old lady who either had the shakes or the same shooting hand as Gene Wilder in Blazing Saddles and she was going for the tea. I try to help her out and reach for the tea saying “allow me ma’am”. She tried to slap my hand and snapped at me “I can do it dammit”. Well, OK fine. I can either do a good deed for an old lady or I can watch some decrepit bitch burn the fucking skin off her flesh under her own power. Either way I walk out with a warm feeling and a cup of coffee.

After that first sip I could tell the 80 grams of fiber from the day before was going to work its way to the promised land soon. As soon as I was sure I wasn’t going to shit my pants if I tried, I made it my civic duty to cropdust that quivering twat on the way out. As I slid by and released a silent but powerful blast as she was seated on a bench right at my ass level. I sneaked a peek in the window after she left and she was making that same crinkled nose and furrowed brow “I smell shit” look that Dick Vermeil would always make when he paced the sidelines.

Mission accomplished and I head back into work. Within five minutes of getting back I had to make a Jamaican swimming team. I get to the middle stall and just fucking empty out. I felt bad for those around me. I wasn’t sure, but I think common courtesy would require me to tap both sides of the partitions and say “sorry bro”.

Lemme ask a question here? Any of you ever take a shit so big that you after you wiped you just HAD to stare at it like you just hit a 500 ft home run and stayed in the batters box to watch it land? This was such a time. I went yard on that bowl. I would’ve done the slow walk to first if I had room in the stall, so I had to settle for walking out with one flap down like Jeffery Leonard in 1987. It took three tries to get all of that shit down the pipes. One thing that didn’t flush was the lingering scent of too much fiber extracting every type of unwanted toxin out of your lower intestine, which left a touch of burnt tire aroma for some reason.

It was a little after lunch when all this went down, so the men’s room was thankfully busy. I say that because I there were two co-workers washing up when I got to the sinks and the toilets that flanked me were occupied. Why does this matter? Because guess who walks into the bathroom next?

My boss.

I see him coming in from the mirror as I am washing my hands. He sees me washing up and waves with a goofy smile like he didn’t just try to rip my vacation time an hour ago because of his own ineptness. What I see from the mirror can only equate to total pwnage. It looks like the poor dolt also has no need for just a urinal and is looking for a toilet. I just mentioned the two adjacent stalls were occupied, didn’t I? My boss only option was the seat I left warm that the scent of a total and violent evacuation that still lingered. I saw him step in, only to take a step back, pause, take a deep breath and close the door.

I smiled a thousand smiles. He had no choice but to almost taste my ass and there were too many options going in and out of the restroom for him to pin it on me. Although it was just a coincidence, what I did to that man could’ve been criminal. This wasn’t some victimless crime like pot smoking or gay bashing either. He got sick later on in the day and left early. It may or may not have been my fault, but I’m sure the 22 pounds of shit he had to inhale right after the fact didn’t help matters. It’s just tells me that karma is alive and well in this world. You fuck with a man’s vacation and you end up getting the Kobe treatment in a Shaq freestyle rap.

In other words, don't sweat it Sam. Dude had it coming to him for something.

*btw this story is pretty old. I'm pushing 175lbs now.

[ucantdoitdoggieSTyle2]

First off, I’d like to give myself a pat on the back for my recent weight loss. I joined up a gym in April after I tipped the scales at 215 lbs on my last checkup. I never weigh myself and my clothes didn’t seem to be fitting different so I never noticed the 15 lb spike. Fuck that. I started hitting the gym and have been going at least five times a week doing weights and cardio. Yesterday I hit 191 on the scale at the gym. Fuckin A. Not only do I feel slimmer, stronger and have more energy, the severe lower back pain that has plagued me the last few years just disappeared after actually doing some core training.

Of course I have made some changes to my eating habits to make this work worth the while. I always thought that I ate healthy, but that scale proved that I was obviously a healthy eater. I cut out a lot of refined flowers and HFCS and kept a healthy eye on fiber and protein content. With that said, I am just leaving exit wounds in my fucking toilet on a daily basis. Just yesterday I was able to take in 80 grams of fiber within 1700 calories of food. You motherfuckers can punch my ticket for Kansas City. I’m headed to the Shit Taking Hall of Fame if I keep this routine up.

I told you that story to tell you this story. I have plenty of reasons to think my boss is a goddamn idiot, but almost demanding that I cut my vacation short next week to attend a tedious training meeting that I have already been a part of. I had to explain to him that not only have I attended this training, I have been trained on how to deliver this training. While the douche was stammering “…but…but...but my records show…” I had to put human resources on speaker and have them explain that I was right. Even after that the son of a bitch still had the nerve to ask if I was able to work that same day because so many people are going to this training. Needless to say, I walked out of there with my vacation intact. The life of a register jockey is fraught with challenge I tells ya.

After this abject failure of a discussion, I head off to my nearby Pete’s for a cup of coffee. While I am there, there put out a pot of piping hot tea for the patrons to sample. As the semi washed hippie queer handed me my cup of joe, I saw a little old lady who either had the shakes or the same shooting hand as Gene Wilder in Blazing Saddles and she was going for the tea. I try to help her out and reach for the tea saying “allow me ma’am”. She tried to slap my hand and snapped at me “I can do it dammit”. Well, OK fine. I can either do a good deed for an old lady or I can watch some decrepit bitch burn the fucking skin off her flesh under her own power. Either way I walk out with a warm feeling and a cup of coffee.

After that first sip I could tell the 80 grams of fiber from the day before was going to work its way to the promised land soon. As soon as I was sure I wasn’t going to shit my pants if I tried, I made it my civic duty to cropdust that quivering twat on the way out. As I slid by and released a silent but powerful blast as she was seated on a bench right at my ass level. I sneaked a peek in the window after she left and she was making that same crinkled nose and furrowed brow “I smell shit” look that Dick Vermeil would always make when he paced the sidelines.

Mission accomplished and I head back into work. Within five minutes of getting back I had to make a Jamaican swimming team. I get to the middle stall and just fucking empty out. I felt bad for those around me. I wasn’t sure, but I think common courtesy would require me to tap both sides of the partitions and say “sorry bro”.

Lemme ask a question here? Any of you ever take a shit so big that you after you wiped you just HAD to stare at it like you just hit a 500 ft home run and stayed in the batters box to watch it land? This was such a time. I went yard on that bowl. I would’ve done the slow walk to first if I had room in the stall, so I had to settle for walking out with one flap down like Jeffery Leonard in 1987. It took three tries to get all of that shit down the pipes. One thing that didn’t flush was the lingering scent of too much fiber extracting every type of unwanted toxin out of your lower intestine, which left a touch of burnt tire aroma for some reason.

It was a little after lunch when all this went down, so the men’s room was thankfully busy. I say that because I there were two co-workers washing up when I got to the sinks and the toilets that flanked me were occupied. Why does this matter? Because guess who walks into the bathroom next?

My boss.

I see him coming in from the mirror as I am washing my hands. He sees me washing up and waves with a goofy smile like he didn’t just try to rip my vacation time an hour ago because of his own ineptness. What I see from the mirror can only equate to total pwnage. It looks like the poor dolt also has no need for just a urinal and is looking for a toilet. I just mentioned the two adjacent stalls were occupied, didn’t I? My boss only option was the seat I left warm that the scent of a total and violent evacuation that still lingered. I saw him step in, only to take a step back, pause, take a deep breath and close the door.

I smiled a thousand smiles. He had no choice but to almost taste my ass and there were too many options going in and out of the restroom for him to pin it on me. Although it was just a coincidence, what I did to that man could’ve been criminal. This wasn’t some victimless crime like pot smoking or gay bashing either. He got sick later on in the day and left early. It may or may not have been my fault, but I’m sure the 22 pounds of shit he had to inhale right after the fact didn’t help matters. It’s just tells me that karma is alive and well in this world. You fuck with a man’s vacation and you end up getting the Kobe treatment in a Shaq freestyle rap.

In case there was ever any doubt, you punched your ticket to the HOF with this blast. If this isn't archived for all eternity, then someone outta be fired.

Perfection.

[indyfrisco]

R-Jack...so that post was lost when your nic was deleted in the Hooked Nose Shrunken Perkin fiasco, but you save your posts on your hard drive? wtf???

[R-Jack]

but you save your posts on your hard drive? wtf???

wtf indeed. A while back my wife found it when she was looking for one of her work documents she saved on Word. I couldn't figure out why the fuck I clicked yes on the option to save came up. In actuality, I had it saved because I sent e-mailed that story to a couple of old work friends who know my (then) boss. I saw Sam's thread and I check to see if it was still on my computer, and here we are.

For the record, I don't usually make a habit of saving my tedious and disgusting stories for posterity, allthough I wish I did on a few others

[MgoBlue-LightSpecial]

I remember that take. So, what was your wife's reaction when she read that?

[R-Jack]

I remember that take. So, what was your wife's reaction when she read that?

Wifey: "why can't I just find porn on our computer like in a normal marriage?"

[War Wagon]

I remember that take. So, what was your wife's reaction when she read that?

Wifey: "why can't I just find porn on our computer like in a normal marriage?"

She's a keeper.

[Dinsdale]

I remember the first time. And I think my favorite line is still:

This wasn’t some victimless crime like pot smoking or gay bashing either.

[Kansas City Kid]

R-Jack wrote: Within five minutes of getting back I had to make a Jamaican swimming team.

That is some funny shit. :D

Got one a-brewin' myself and need to stiff-leg it over to the can. Out slow like the RED OCTOBER and Sean Connery piloting this one........

[indyfrisco]

Got one a-brewin' myself and need to stiff-leg it over to the can. Out slow like the RED OCTOBER and Sean Connery piloting this one........

Soooooooo.........you equate taking a dump to Sean Connery coming out of your ass. Gotcha, Kaley.

[R-Jack]

So when I describe taking a shit, the narrative involves the sights, sounds, smell and situation. When you describe taking a shit, you talk about how Sean Connery is behind the helm of the thing sliding out of your asshole?

You got something you want to tell us? Like you and Scott watching 300 again tonight or something like that?

[ucantdoitdoggieSTyle2]

Oh... great movie. What was the Connery character's name again? Captain RamMyAss, right? I am not afraid.


Sin,
KC Scott