Tag Archives: school

Jul 04 2014
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The One That Got Away

I have many stories to do with my bowels but the most prominent one comes from the time in graduate school. Ever since college, my bowels have become suspect at best mostly because of my poor diet at the time and what I later learned to be early onset of IBS. This time wasn’t different, except, it was. At the time I was attending graduate school in San Diego, CA, living at home with my parents. On this fateful day, I had come to school early so I could study with my classmates and get some homework done. My stomach started it’s usual rumblings as I hadn’t taken a dump earlier that day when I usually do. I decided that I could wait it out and get some food first before taking a dump. So I headed over to Taco Bell where there was a huge line. My bowels decided that it didn’t want to wait so I quickly left the line to head to the bathrooms in the building where I usually take my classes. What I didn’t realize at the time is that these toilets were meant for dudes that are 6′ tall at the least. I’m 5’6″ so that means that I have to sort of climb up onto the seats with my legs dangling over the edge and my toes barely touching the floor. Due to the height, this made me clutch ass cheeks more than usual since I couldn’t properly relax my legs as I can compared to when I sit on a toilet that is lower to the ground. I did the best I could with what I was given and let loose. But this wasn’t a regular blow out dump, this was the clinging kind that refused to clear my ass as easily. This sometimes happens when your bowels go from ass explosion to stubborn stools. Thankfully my legs were long enough to stand up without having to slide off the seat because I could still feel the shit between my cheeks that refused to plop into the bowl. That happens sometimes but I was too high up to lift my legs up and just use toilet paper to get it off. At that time, my habit for pooping consisted of me facing the toilet when it came time to wipe. This day changed my habit for life. I spun around like I usually did to inspect said crap and went to go wipe. As I did my business, I noticed something missing. The crap was no longer there. I looked around and couldn’t find it on the floor or anywhere on me so I shrugged it off as if it had gone into the bowl after all and it was only my imagination. I finished wiping, pulled up my pants, went to wash my hands and grabbed my backpack. I left the bathroom feeling better and headed back downstairs to Taco Bell to grab some food. As I was walking along, I noticed a little smell, but thought nothing of it. I get in line. That’s when the stench hits me. The dude in front of me was kind of grungy so I figured it might be him but the smell was a little too familiar. So I started inspecting myself. That’s when I discovered that the piece of poo I had thought fallen into the toilet, had in fact fallen, but landed on the back of my pants on the outside and had smeared itself all over my back and on my backpack. I already had ordered my food at this point so I waited and grabbed my food quickly without looking up and hurried out of there. I got to my car dropped the food into the seat, took off both my pants and t-shirt, wiped off the excess crap and bolted home. My friends called me asking me where I was and I told them I had to head home to change since my parents dog had crapped on my backpack and I had to go and change. I lied my ass off as I was too embarrassed to tell them what really happened. After I got home, I showered and changed, cleaned off my backpack, ate my food and threw my shit covered clothes into the washer. To this day, I face away from the bowl and carefully get up to wipe my ass instead of the full stand I used to do.

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Apr 23 2013
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Kill the messenger

One day at my school in Georgia during PE we were playing flag football on the football field, and a boy that no one (literally no one) liked named Jacob went out on the field, lowered his pants, squatted, and deposited a warm poop onto the freshly mowed football field. He stood up, raised his pants, took his HAND, and picked up said freshly baked turd. He then walked with it in hand to the nearest sideline trash can and threw away his shameful wrongdoing. The PE coach quickly but loudly told him he was being sent home for the day; he burst into tears for the fear that his parents would uncover his dirty secret.

Jacob and I were not only classmates, but we also belonged to the same church youth group. After I witnessed the unsightly event, I felt the need to share my horror with the other members of the group. However, some of the other kids told Justin’s parents that I’d fabricated this unchristian and unbelievable story – his parents were still oblivious to all of it. Within hours both of his parents showed up at the main office screaming and throwing things because their innocent baby was being bullied by a little girl. I was later forced to make a brutally awkward public apology for “weaving this tale of lies,” and Jacob gave me a dead stare and said nothing –  even though I’d just covered his behind by convincing every adult that I’d made up that true story, which also happened to be telling a lie in church. To this day no one’s entirely sure if the bathroom was locked, the line was too long, or there was some wager lost. There was also a quiet rumor that he may have been protesting the fields fertilizer. Or maybe he’s just that crazy.

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Apr 20 2013
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Animal House

In college, I was driving in my big Caddy on my way to class one summer, and I got hit with a real need to go. I didn’t think I would make it to the classroom building in time, so I pulled off and went to my frat house. Nobody was around, and at this point I thought I was going to die. I rushed into the house and up the stairs to the bathroom. Everything was gone. The bath was being renovated. I looked around desperately, and there was no bucket. Not even a trashcan. I ran to a room at the back of the house on the second floor and stuck my ass out the window and let it all out. Not sure if any saw me, but they would have been ruined for life if they had.

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Apr 01 2013
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Some parties you don’t want an invite to

The Poop Date
by Norton Loomer

I learned everything I know about modern dating while sitting on the toilet one day after school.

Normally I don’t use the student bathroom for my business, but I had a teacher meeting to get to and didn’t feel like making the quarter mile trek to the staff bathroom, only to find the stall occupied by one of the pot-smoking janitors. Besides, it was after school, so I figured I was in the clear. Sure enough, the bathroom was empty, so I locked the door, dropped my pants, sat down, and admired the writing on the wall while I waited for the big event.

I wasn’t too far along when two rowdy students, way too rambunctious for a public bathroom, began making a ruckus. At first I thought they were just there to change for whatever after school activity they did, so I just continued to sit and mind my own business. They let out a string of profanity, but other than that, they weren’t really causing me any problems. I sat there and tried to go undetected, being careful not to expel any bursts caused by the buildup of six hours without a bathroom break.

But left alone I would not be. When the initial shouting was over, a whispering began. I couldn’t quite make out what the young lads were saying, but it seemed to have something to do with me occupying the stall. I continued to focus on my own business, but sometimes the pressure gets to be too much.

Then the banging started. “Hey, who’s in there?” one of them shouted in an awkward pubescent squeak while the door rattled and quivered. Unsure the little latch would hold, I ripped off some toilet paper and prepared for departure.

“Hey, answer us!” the other one shouted.

“Yeah. Get outta there. We’re on our poop date.”

I quickened my pace, but not in time. Like a nimble monkey, one of the students emerged over the top of the stall and shouted something unintelligible at me before leaping off in what looked like fear.

“Hey, I think it’s the track coach,” he whispered after a surefooted landing on the tile.

“I don’t care,” the other one shouted. “This is our poop date! He needs to get out of there.”

Embarrassed for all of us, I finished wiping but remained fixed to the seat. I wanted to give them the chance to escape. I’d already seen one face, and although I hoped it was a vague enough depiction that I wouldn’t recognize him in the hallway, I knew I would never be able to forget him.

“I’m outta here,” the climber said.

“No. You need to stick around for a poop date.”

The climber didn’t acquiesce. There was some shuffling of bags and feet followed by steps that gradually distanced themselves from the toilet. Then silence. Surely they were gone.

I rose, pulled up my pants, and stepped out of the stall, the toilet automatically swallowing behind me. Marching to the sink, I spied a young man hanging out by the urinal. He gave me a funny look, but I refused to make eye contact. I pretended it wasn’t one of them, that the funny look was just the reaction to seeing a teacher in the bathroom. Students don’t seem to think we have normal lives. They don’t expect to see teachers outside of the classroom. We don’t even have bodily functions. We’re just weirdos who coop ourselves up in a classroom for days on end, slaving away at lesson planning and paper grading.

After my meetings were over, I went down to the track to organize cross country practice. On my way into the stadium, the climber, dressed now in his football gear, gave me a curious smile, and I knew my embarrassment exceeded his. I nodded to let him know I would never speak of this, and his return glance told me that he would make his dating life a bit more private from now on.

That is until he posted a picture of himself naked on Twitter. At least that’s what I heard.

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