Have you ever soiled yourself as an adult?

[Thomas_Brady]

His head was gone at that stage …the only pandemic was in his jocks

[TheUlteriorMotive]

I once got the shits on a drive to Connemara. I burst into a pub in Oughterard (my aunt who was a nun was deceased and the convent seemed too risky a choice) cc @flattythehurdler - only to find some cunt had had a nose bleed all over the cubicle so it was like a scene from American Psycho. Cross the road I went and whatever I found in the next pub I was going to go for it. So I did.

I later stopped in Moycullen and the pub toilet was acceptably clean.

[Thomas_Brady]

Happier times.

[LionelRitchie]

This story suggests you had not in fact yet soiled yourself as per thread title. If you had, blood around the cubicle would have been of little importance as you patted yourself and attire to as best a level as possible.

Waddling across the road with trousers preflled, is not likely and so have to question the details.of your tale here.

Please explain citing references.

[glenshane]

@Tank

It was shortly after making this post yesterday evening that I left for a run in the Park. It was a beautiful summer’s day and the Park was crowded with people from all walks of life. On days like this Ireland seems like a paradise. As I ran I imagined myself handing out a political pamphlet to all these people. It would be titled “Why Leo’s Picnic Matters”. It would be funny and convincing. Of course I knew I would never really do this but the thought filled me with enough excitement that my pace was extremely quick. This was comfortably the best run I’d had since my week in hospital, a month and a half ago. Everything seemed so effortless. I was back.

Around the 7km mark my gliding was suddenly interrupted by a sharp and unexpected discomfort in the bowel or anal area. I was immediately forced to stop and I was crippled over with the bloating feeling. It is incredibly unlike me to stop when I’m running. However, I intuitively sensed that if I ran through this pain I would spectacularly shit myself. As I stood clutching my lower stomach, afraid and confused as to what had just happened, a beautiful young couple jogged past me. “That’s embarrassing” laughed the man in my direction. What was happening? Did I have Crohns or IBS?

I tried to jog on again but was soon forced to stop again. I badly needed to go to the toilet. Had I not gone before I left on the run? I had felt fine when I started. This had never happened me before in my entire running career.

I realised that I was in a terrible situation. I was over 2km from home and unable to run. The Park was swarming with people. Every nook and cranny was filled with groups enjoying the weather. There was nowhere I could run and nowhere I could hide. I didn’t think I could make it home without shitting my pants.

I limped on for as far as I could. I was getting frantic, looking right and left for somewhere with no people. Could I sneak into the Aras? Finally I came across a small glade of trees in the middle of one of the Park’s great lawns. On my night runs I sometimes called it the “evil glade” because of how it looked in the dark. People were strolling past it in all directions but no-one was going inside. Realising I could go no further I waddled over at top speed. On my way I manually forced my buttocks closed with my hands, to stop the shit from spilling out. As soon as I made it inside the glade I removed my hands from my ass cheeks and hadn’t even time to fully pull down my shorts before bright orange goo started spraying from my hole onto a nearby tree. The shit was spraying up as high as my waist. Its colour was almost florescent.

I couldn’t believe that this was happening. I could hear the laughter of some of the people walking by but no-one came near. I grabbed a handful of grass to clean my shitty wet ass. There were no decent sized leaves on the ground here, maybe the deer ate them all. I pulled up my pants and tried to waddle away, only to immediately rush back to the trees and my ass erupted again.

Eventually I walked back to the road and walked out of the busy park. Luckily my shorts were black so it wasn’t immediately obvious that I was covered in my own shit. I realised I was in a race against time - I had to get home before I shat myself again. The thought of this spurred me into trying to run again and again I felt sick.

Finally I made it out of the Park and onto the street but I still had a mile or so to travel before I got home. I was never going to make it. And now there were no trees to hide behind. I was going to spontaneously shit myself right in the middle of the street in Dublin. I would probably be arrested.

Frantically I began searching for a toilet. I spotted the Central Criminal Court, beside the exit to Phoenix Park and ran up to the entrance. I slammed my shit-stained fists desperately against the glass doors but to no avail. They were locked. I tried a nearby pub next, Nancy Hand’s, but it was locked also. The moment of final judgment was fast approaching. Everywhere was locked and there was nothing I could do. My heart was pounding.

Miraculously, I wandered home in a daze without shitting myself again. I simply accepted my fate and stopped running. This stopped the diarrhea. When I got home I googled “diarrhea when running” and discovered that it’s a common condition that affects most runners, albeit not a condition that had ever affected me during all the marathons that I’ve trained for and completed. Doctors don’t know exactly what causes it but possible causes include colitis (an inflamed area of the inner bowel or colon) or the bowel being slightly out of place. I had seen a spot of colitis in my colonoscopy a few weeks ago and the CAT Scan during my stay in the hospital had also shown that my bowel was slightly out of place after the infection.

I really want to be able to run again and I hope my bowel gets better.

The End

By God. It’s as if Hemingway shat himself while running in Phoenix Park

[flattythehurdler]

[StoneCold]

You would have been better off shitting on the street than going to the toilets in Heuston anyway @Tank

[Thomas_Brady]

Why what happened you bud?

[StoneCold]

They are fucking rotten I wretch any time I have to enter.

[Thomas_Brady]

Would you not go in the phoenix park like most normal people?

[binkybarnes]

@glenshane

By God. It’s as if Hemingway shat himself while running in Phoenix Park

Moby Gick!

[Thomas_Brady]

The laughter of those strangers will haunt @Tank for years.

[glasagusban]

For Whom the Bowel Tolls.

[habanerocat]

@StoneCold

They are fucking rotten I wretch any time I have to enter.

It’s bad alright, but you have to think of the amount of people that use that toilet every day. It must be an incredible number. I couldn’t think of one that gets more use in Ireland.

[Juhniallio]

@glasagusban

For Whom the Bowel Tolls.

That’s a belter.

[Elvis_Brandenberg_Kr]

@glasagusban

For Whom the Bowel Tolls.

The Great Shatsby.

[StoneCold]

There’s a yard at the back of the zoo where the animal shite is collected. If @Tank was in possesion of his faculties he could have knocked there; I’m sure they would have obliged him

[myboyblue]

He could have hopped into with the hippos and wallowed in his own shite with them.

[artfoley]

@glenshane

@Tank

It was shortly after making this post yesterday evening that I left for a run in the Park. It was a beautiful summer’s day and the Park was crowded with people from all walks of life. On days like this Ireland seems like a paradise. As I ran I imagined myself handing out a political pamphlet to all these people. It would be titled “Why Leo’s Picnic Matters”. It would be funny and convincing. Of course I knew I would never really do this but the thought filled me with enough excitement that my pace was extremely quick. This was comfortably the best run I’d had since my week in hospital, a month and a half ago. Everything seemed so effortless. I was back.

Around the 7km mark my gliding was suddenly interrupted by a sharp and unexpected discomfort in the bowel or anal area. I was immediately forced to stop and I was crippled over with the bloating feeling. It is incredibly unlike me to stop when I’m running. However, I intuitively sensed that if I ran through this pain I would spectacularly shit myself. As I stood clutching my lower stomach, afraid and confused as to what had just happened, a beautiful young couple jogged past me. “That’s embarrassing” laughed the man in my direction. What was happening? Did I have Crohns or IBS?

I tried to jog on again but was soon forced to stop again. I badly needed to go to the toilet. Had I not gone before I left on the run? I had felt fine when I started. This had never happened me before in my entire running career.

I realised that I was in a terrible situation. I was over 2km from home and unable to run. The Park was swarming with people. Every nook and cranny was filled with groups enjoying the weather. There was nowhere I could run and nowhere I could hide. I didn’t think I could make it home without shitting my pants.

I limped on for as far as I could. I was getting frantic, looking right and left for somewhere with no people. Could I sneak into the Aras? Finally I came across a small glade of trees in the middle of one of the Park’s great lawns. On my night runs I sometimes called it the “evil glade” because of how it looked in the dark. People were strolling past it in all directions but no-one was going inside. Realising I could go no further I waddled over at top speed. On my way I manually forced my buttocks closed with my hands, to stop the shit from spilling out. As soon as I made it inside the glade I removed my hands from my ass cheeks and hadn’t even time to fully pull down my shorts before bright orange goo started spraying from my hole onto a nearby tree. The shit was spraying up as high as my waist. Its colour was almost florescent.

I couldn’t believe that this was happening. I could hear the laughter of some of the people walking by but no-one came near. I grabbed a handful of grass to clean my shitty wet ass. There were no decent sized leaves on the ground here, maybe the deer ate them all. I pulled up my pants and tried to waddle away, only to immediately rush back to the trees and my ass erupted again.

Eventually I walked back to the road and walked out of the busy park. Luckily my shorts were black so it wasn’t immediately obvious that I was covered in my own shit. I realised I was in a race against time - I had to get home before I shat myself again. The thought of this spurred me into trying to run again and again I felt sick.

Finally I made it out of the Park and onto the street but I still had a mile or so to travel before I got home. I was never going to make it. And now there were no trees to hide behind. I was going to spontaneously shit myself right in the middle of the street in Dublin. I would probably be arrested.

Frantically I began searching for a toilet. I spotted the Central Criminal Court, beside the exit to Phoenix Park and ran up to the entrance. I slammed my shit-stained fists desperately against the glass doors but to no avail. They were locked. I tried a nearby pub next, Nancy Hand’s, but it was locked also. The moment of final judgment was fast approaching. Everywhere was locked and there was nothing I could do. My heart was pounding.

Miraculously, I wandered home in a daze without shitting myself again. I simply accepted my fate and stopped running. This stopped the diarrhea. When I got home I googled “diarrhea when running” and discovered that it’s a common condition that affects most runners, albeit not a condition that had ever affected me during all the marathons that I’ve trained for and completed. Doctors don’t know exactly what causes it but possible causes include colitis (an inflamed area of the inner bowel or colon) or the bowel being slightly out of place. I had seen a spot of colitis in my colonoscopy a few weeks ago and the CAT Scan during my stay in the hospital had also shown that my bowel was slightly out of place after the infection.

I really want to be able to run again and I hope my bowel gets better.

The End

By God. It’s as if Hemingway shat himself while running in Phoenix Park

A farewell to arse

[EstebanSexface]

There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and shit