Perfect for the Outhouse

[steemin]

Enjoy!

Don't use a cell phone in a bathroom

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.
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 snatches 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.
Scott

[trapin]

Classic. I love it.

[DeepBlue68]

It's not very often that I laugh out loud when reading a joke alone...but that had me goin' pretty good.

[DJW32]

That was funny! I was laughing so hard, I was crying. Steemin, thanks

[Steve68]

My stomach muscles hurt!!!

[6'9"Witha69]

People around me are wondering what is so funny. Tears were forming I was lauging so hard!

[mdprovee]

That one is CLASSIC. I will have to share this one.

[Beegs]

It is amazing what a good writer can do! I was laughing wide open. Very well written, can you freaking imagine the one liners that guy has to pick women up? LOL for sure!

[Jagarang]

I was crying. Steemin,

Please do NOT use this phrase in association with any more responses to this story!!!

[69rs]

OMG-That was hilarious! I have not laughed like that in a long time!

[steemin]

Please do NOT use this phrase in association with any more responses to this story!!!

Yeah my nickname Steemin has caused me grief on more than one occassion..
On a recent snowmobile trip I made the mistake of leaving my helmet unattended overnight. Across the back of the helmet it says
"STEEMIN".
The next day we rode all over stopped to get gas.
Went to a restaurant for lunch etc...
It was not until late in the afternoon that I noticed that my "buddies got creative after a few adult beverages.
They used an exacto knife and cut out the word "TURD" and taped it right below STEEMIN.
Hence I rode around all day with STEEMIN
TURD

On the back of my helmet.
Maybe I need a new handle?
Scott

[CraigMorrison]

TAHNK YOU!!! I really needed that today. Laugh out loud

[BLUE72CAMARO]

That just made my day. That is the funniest thing I have seen in a long time.

Thanks man.

[John McIntire]

that was great, I can totally relate!

John

[mpozzi]

You missed your calling and should be a writer for any mag that needs something funny written for it. I haven't laughed like that in years!!!

This MUST be shared . . .


Mary Pozzi

[Bill Howell]

[Mr.Powers]

I salute you, I was laughing so hard I couldn't breath.

[RaceMan]

WOW!! that was a good one

[Beegs]

The best part is that he doesn't let up, just when you think it can't get funnier......it does!

[6'9"Witha69]

I have to say that is funnier than the eBay leather pants ad!!