This is actually one of the moments that inspired the creation of PoopReport. It's not as physically inappropriate as Tim D's story -- more like economically inappropriate. Once, after being stuck for hours in traffic crossing the Triborough Bridge here in NYC, I had to go so bad and so painfully that I forced my friend to pull over at the sketchiest McDonalds in the sketchiest section of the Bronx I'd ever seen. When the body makes demands, you have to answer... regardless of the fact that you might get killed while doing so.

Man... thats just RUDE. I would kill him.

Well I just wrote a story (Broken Toilet Blues) about having to shit in my kitchen garbage can.

The only other thing I can remember, other than the boring old "shit in the woods, wipe ass with leaf" stories, is one time when I slept over a friend's house and the toilet was plugged up. I wasn't going to make it till morning, so I squatted in the bathtub and took a huge stinky shit. I ran hot water and poked at the turds (maybe with my friend's parent's toothbrush, I don't remember) until they went down the drain.

I was driving home from college on a very lonely and empty highway, middle of the night and no toilet within a few hours. What did I do, well what any other shameless shitter would have done. I pull over and shit right in the middle of this deserted strech of road. I wish I could have seen the next car come through and run over my pile---their car would've had shit under it everywhere.

Y'know, I've done the whole "pee-in-the-woods-and-wipe-with-a-leaf" before, but I can't remember ever crapping anywhere besides a toilet.

When I was a kid, my friend and I both crapped on top of a backhoe. Not because we had to, just for fun, and because it was digging up woods we liked to play in.

My friend and I were running one day and we had the evil " Special Chili" for dinner.. we ended up shitting next to the road with a train going by but no cars even though it is a highway.. the conductors got a free show that day; they even beeped their horn as we were both bent over by the road, our white asses gleaming in the evening sun.. we both had the unfortunate green apple splatters.. but we did find some nice soft green grass to wipe our asses with..

as stated before in a previous story posted here, and several others, it was in a water catchment river going under Chandler Blvd. in Phoenix Az. It was basiclly a huge 50 foot deep canyon that captured the water from south mountian. I pooped in a damp, dark aluminum pipe, about 8 ft. in diameter, on top of an abandoned shopping cart. The tunnel was a cespool of waste carried from the mountain and the city. I wiped with napkins my friend ran and got a a McDonalds.

The best I've ever seen, was in an overturned section of water slide waiting to be constructed. it was on it's side, so the wall was on the ground. My friend went into the maze of slide segements and prefab metal peices, shit on the slide segment, and never wiped.

oh, yeah, the second one occoured at Pine Crest School's water park in Ft. Lauderdale, Fl.

I had an incident similar to Doniker. My, wife and I had just gotten home from eating out and both our guts were broiling. We only have one toilet in the house and she had dibs on it. Meanwhile I clenched my buttocks and paced in the hallway, praying for her to finish up quickly. When I realized she was in the same dire straits, I knew I had find an alternate solution. I headed to the basement and shit in a plastic bucket. It was a frothy brown mess, but man was I relieved! Next came the problem of disposing of my intestinal fortitude. I poured the foaming stinking mass into the the wash basin next to the wasking machine. It clogged up the drain and I had to use a screwdriver to poke the shit through the drain. I then spent what seemed like an hour disinfecting the bucket, washtub and screw driver. Next time, I'd just shit directly into the wash tub. Less clean-up.

i love pooping and diarrheaing!i think its a spiritual way to realease all your troubles.well lately i have been feeling terrible.one day at church i went into the confessionals to speak to god.i had had a greasy bean burrito that morning for breakfast.i went in there and got into a stressful conversation about my problems.i got so overwhelmed by me feelings that i felt i needed to relieve some of my troubles.and if you remember how i told you how i do that that means i took a huge dump right there...i was so ashamed i ran out of there as fast as i could accidently knocking a chair in front of the door leaving the poor Father Green trapped in the confessional with my stinky mess. If you have any questions or comments please contact me.

I dropped a load in the kitchen trash can once. The house we lived in had two bathrooms so there was no reason I should have had to resort to such an unseemly act, but I have two sisters and during this period of time they both lived in the bathrooms. I don't understand why they both couldn't share the same one, after all they were only doing things like curling their hair. They insisted on having a bathroom all to themselves, selfishly denying use of the facilities to others with more pressing needs. One of these times led to my downfall. I had to go, and it had to be soon. I didn't want to go outside, so the only option was the trash can. Unfortunately, my brother caught me in mid squat and while he certainly sympathized with my reasons no brother worthy of the title would let something so monumental go. Within hours the entire family knew of my shame, and he even dubbed me with a nickname that haunts me to this day. He calls me Oscar after the Sesame Street character who lives in a trash can. Dirty little bastard.

i was at a family get together when i was about 15 or so. it was a bunch of relatives i don't see that often, so i wasn't totally comfortable around them. anyway, i had to take a dump, but the bathroom was occupied. i waited and waited...no dice. so in desperation and defeat (i was on autopilot. i don't even remember my thought process), i went into the basement with a couple paper towels and a zip lock bag. i crapped onto the paper towels, stuffed my wrapped log into the bag and stashed it somewhere. i hope i put it outside, at least. otherwise, my uncle might read this and discover it was i who defiled his basement.

you know what they say, though: when you gotta go...

After leaving church one Sunday, hubby and I went to the local cafeteria and ate lunch. It was a gorgeous day, so with our bellies full and time on our hands, we decided to take a drive in the country. We had gone about ten miles out when the first of the shit pangs hit me with so much force it took my breath. "Oh my God!" I moaned, "you need to get me home NOW!" Hubby, who is an extremely low-key person, glanced over at me and saw that I was doubled over and clutching my abdomen. "What's wrong?" he asked calmly, "do you have to shit? Does your stomach hurt?" "Just-get-me-HOME!" I managed to croak through my clenched teeth. The pains were now washing over me in horrible waves If there had been anything in my drawers, my ass would have sucked it up like a Hoover. I was sweating, groaning, and gasping for air as hubby calmly turned the car around and headed toward home. We had gone about a mile when the damn burst. Sudddenly, my sphincter muscle would no longer cooperate. It turned loose, and my drawers filled with warm brown relief. I was nortified, but once the dump was in progress, there was no turning back. Shit continued to roll out, and the stench inside the car became almost unbearable. Hubby was not so low-key at this point, and began frantically rolling down his window. Then he stomped on the accelerator and got me home in record time. Fortunately, the car had leather seats and wasn't that hard to clean up. After a good bath, I felt wonderful.

i shit in my cats litter box

WHEN I WAS 5 I HADENT GONE IN A WEEK, AND I WOKE UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT WITH THESE SHARP PAINS IN MY BELLY. SO I WALKED TO THE BATHROOM BUT INSTEAD OF POOPING IN THE TOILET I CRAPED ON THE FLOOR AND LET OUT A MASSAVE LOG. I DONT KNOW WHY I DID THIS, IT STILL DONT MAKE SENSE. THEN WHEN I WAS 15 WE LIVED BY

THIS BUILDING AND I WOULD SHIT BY THE DUMPSTER (IRONIC)

I'm an old age pensioner who has difficulty using the stairs, and as my toilet is upstairs I often go out into the back garden for a shit and then wipe my arse in the grass. However one day I was out in the garden, I pulled down my pants, and just as the turd was half way out of my arsehole, Mrs Pug the neighbour poked her head out of her back door and saw me. Since then I now shit in old Braces bread bags in my kitchen, and either throw them in the garbage, or in the garden of the neighbour I don't like over the road.

Hey man, you should rub that mutherfucking bitch mrs Pug's face in the crap you done. It will teach her not to be so damn nosey in future.

After getting annoyed that my Sony Playstation was rejecting game discs, I got in a temper and threw it in the corner of the garage. About a week later on the way home from highschool I started getting cramping pains and rumblings in my stomach area that said I needed to take a dump, I was only a few yards from my house when I just had to go, and when you gotta go you gotta go! Unfortunately my mom was out and had locked the door, but the garage was open so I rushed inside and closed the door. It was dark inside and I grabbed a cloth and a large bucket from beside the door, pulled down my pants and sat down on the bucket with relief. There was this almighty rippp, followed by a splat as I opened my bowels and the trickling noise as I pissed, and the stench of shit filled the garage. So what relevance is the Sony Playstation? Well, after wiping my ass with the cloth, I then turned on the lights in the garage and peered into the bucket to see what mess I had made. There in the bucket was the Sony Playstation, swimming in piss with its CD lid open, splattered in crap and a large brown log on it. Well I burst out laughing when I saw it and so did my mates when I told them what had happend, we joked and suggested it be renamed the " Sony Playstation poo", "Sony Piss-station" or "Poo-station". Anyone beat this for a genuine story?

One day I was at work remodeling a house(bathroom included) and my boss left to get lunch. And then I was stranded and had to poop. With no neighbors around and no bathroom I headed to the woods to do my business. To my surprise I spotted I tire Without a rim under a shady pine tree. I sat down in the comfort of mother nature and my makeshift toilet and took a well deserved poop.

Most inappropriate toilet substitute: a wood chipper. However, it would be funny to turn it on afterward, but only if it was pointed toward the highway.

I AM A WEIRD PERSON AND HATE USING THE TOILET SO WHEN IM HOME I SHIT MY PANTS

The weirdest place i've ever crapped was in a Kerr canning jar. I go over to my aunt and uncle's house a lot, and i have this obssesion with pooping only in my bathroom. It's kind of hard to explain, but we don't use the shower upstairs, we use the one in the basement. So, I'm downstairs taking a shower, and all of a sudden..there goes that sudden urge! i needed something now, because there was NO WAY i could hold this in til the next day when I got home. Sopping wet, i got out of the shower, and went into the storage room looking for something to crap in. Then i found the canning jars. i grapped one, and ran back to the shower. Under the actual faucet thing, i squatted, and released the massive log. I had to literally stop in the middle of pooping and compact the turd so there would be enough room for it all! When i came upstairs, and ran out into the garage, and dropped it in the herbie (rolling garbage can). When my aunt and uncle questioned me on why I went outside, I simply told them that i was just going out to feel what the temperature was!

i crapped in a creek once

I think we've all crapped in a creek once in our lives. I remember crapping in the creek by my house in California when I was a kid.

Here's another inappropriate pooping site. Inside someone's computer. However, it makes for some good revenge if you need it. The longer the computer runs the stinkier it gets, just before it shorts out for good.

On Vacation we had only an outhouse to use, and it was infested with roaches. I held it in for 6 days (no joking), days in which we had steak, salad and noodles almost every night. Finally I couldn't take it anymore and SOMEBODY WAS IN THE OUTHOUSE! I went down to the dock and took a crap in the water that had to be as big as my fore-arm. And it was HARD! It was like the consistancy of cold modeling-clay. Yeah, ouch.

YOU USE TOILET PAPER TO WIPE THE POOP OFF OF YOUR BUTT WHEN YOU POOP IN THE TOILET! POOP COMES OUT OF PEOPLE'S BUTTS WHEN EVER THEY POOP!

Smurf, above, wrote back in 2003: "THEN WHEN I WAS 15 WE LIVED BY THIS BUILDING AND I WOULD SHIT BY THE DUMPSTER (IRONIC)."

I told you! It goes on constantly!

Dave, I want to hear more about what inspired PR, how it came into being, etc.

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"Say, has anybody seen my sweet Gypsy Rose Volcano?"

I had forgotten about the Pants Pooper. His innane comments helped exercize my eyes... as I rolled them.

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Broccoli!

Most inappropriate? Let me trot you through it......

Every Saturday morning, without fail, when I'd want to sleep in until at least 8 a.m., my crazy bitch nosy neighbor would be up -- back-packing her gas-operated leaf blower. (This was before the city passed a noise pollution ban ordinance, specifically targeting inconsiderate boobs such as she.) I asked her nicely a few times to please postpone her Saturday ritual until after 10 a.m. But, noooooo.

Wasn't it bad enough that I'd constantly see her peeping from behind the window sheers at everybody who passed by? She wouldn't just stand at the window or go outside, she'd sneaky peek. I'd just wave my arm in an exaggerated Miss America fashion everytime I saw her peeping. Ya know, just to piss her off.

I'd had worked a particularly long workweek, pulling down a 60+ hours at the office. I arrived home late on that Friday evening. Too tired to read or even zone out in front of the tube, I ate some fruit, brushed my teeth and crashed and burned on my faithful Serta.

Brrhhhhhh..... BRRHHHHHH.....BRRR HHHHHHH..... The cacophony jerks me out of a dead sleep. I glanced over at the clock, blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I squint and register that the bright green numbers read seven-two-three. That's right, 7:23 aaa-friggin'-emmm in the morning. Alright, you mustached train wreck of a (I can't even call her woman) dung heap, THIS IS WAR!!

I know this Keystone Nazi (we'll call her Gladys) either plays bingo, attends key-drop-and-swap parties, or whatever.... every Wednesday night from at 6:30 to ~10:30 p.m. and I plot my revenge..... Oh, do I plot....

Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday prior to the incident I'm chute-loading: stuffing fruit, whole-grains, and fried greasy foods I don't ordinarily eat, down my gullet in preparation.... Mr. Bunghole notices the copious amounts of food I'm consuming and gingerly inquires if "Auntie Flo" will be visiting soon and did I "want a Dove Bar"??? {Golly, that man's a saint!}

Monday, I took a mild laxative and had my usual constitutional the next morning. Ditto on Tuesday. Same thing Wednesday. I'm noticing after I'd consumed a pear, some prunes and a large order of those tasty crisscut fried potatoes for Wednesday's lunch that my stomach is gurgling ever so slightly. Good, it's working its way down my predictable pipes. A few SBDs break loose from my O-ring --not enough to soil-- but they're definitely in the dew point range....

I leave work at 5:49 p.m. Great! The freeway is backed up like my plumbing and there's no relief in sight. The whole commute home, my gut is clamping down like a hooker's cooch on a Franklin and I'm shifting from cheek-to-cheek, hoping to abate the gas gurgles.

Car door flies open after I screech around the corner (we're talking whiplash as I clutch-pop from first to second gear, leaving scratch at the stopsign at the intersection before my turnoff). I mincingly turkeytrot myself through the front door and leave my attache and purse on the bench in the entryway. Not stopping, I kicked off my heels and step out of the torture device, commonly known as pantyhose. Undies are last. I don't even bother to change out of my dress.

Barefoot with bunghole locked and loaded, I pass through the garage only long enough to don some latex gloves and pick up a small prybar in case I need it. I beeline to Gladys' toolshed, which is separate from her house. Perfect! The creatin hadn't bothered to lock the side-entry door.

From light filtering through the small shed window,I'm able to quickly locate the tool whose nozzle I'd wanted to shove up her ass and turn on every Saturday morning. I took it off the wall hook and laid the hated device on the shed floor. I calmly hitched up my dress and copped a real big squat and squelsh. You wanna talk hot shit? It was ALL OVER the leaf blower and managed to plop some through the nozzle opening too!! I spedwalked home, stripped off my dress and bra and hopped into warm shower that lasted a good 20 minutes. Screw the consumer water conservation leaflet on the entry table!!!

Next Saturday morning, I slept in until the alarm sounded at 10 a.m. And Gladys? Her furtive peeks through the window sheers decreased and she hired a gardener a couple of weeks after the incident.

Many years have passed and I've since relocated, but I'll never, ever forget that beautiful poo stew I left behind in Gladys' shed.....

Bunghole in the Jungle, you are like Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, Ghandi and Idi Amin all rolled into one. If you weren't married already I'd propose to you now!

The ultimate in revenge! They never showed that bit on Bewitched. But you should have submitted this gem of a story!

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Broccoli!

Bunghole, why did you crap ON it. all you needed to do was crap in the nozzle. Then she would turn it on and blow crap all over the yard and herself. I wouldn;t mid being woken up one last saturday just to see her scream.

Yes, KOC, I have to agree with that one! See my "wood chipper" post farther up.

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Broccoli!

Bunghole, although I don't ordinarily condone turd terrorism, on the principle that two wrongs don't make a right, I think in this case the Doctrine of Necessity came into play, even if you did break about four criminal laws to do it. Anyway, you certainly have the PR knack for telling a story! Why don't you submit something to Dave soon?

And, KOC, I rated your last comment "Great." That's the KOC wit we all appreciate!

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"Say, has anybody seen my sweet Gypsy Rose Volcano?"

Vote #2! (no pun intended)

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Broccoli!

Bunga: Lord, love ya. If I weren't married and, pending full background checks, I'd strongly consider your proposal. I've always had a fondness for neighbors up north...

KOC: When you're right, you're spot on! I figured she'd smell the shit even if she didn't see it and the jig would be up anyway... It was very difficult to hold my dress out of the way and hit a target as small as the nozzle opening.

Shit Volcano, crazy wahine that you are, you are a turd-terrorist-in-the-making. If you have children ensure they're not aware of any future acts of turd-terrorism you may commit.... You know, the old adage, 'Do as I say, not as I doo!'

Dumpster: Four criminal laws? I count three. I didn't actually 'break in' the door was open....

Still crazy after all these years, I've mellowed and wouldn't again poopatrate turd terrorism....

Here's my last comment/question: Navigationally-speaking, what's protocol for PR hopefuls to submit a story? General email or?

There is an area at the bottom that says "Contact/Submit a Story" under the Report Poop section. You can also just e-mail Dave directly.

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Broccoli!

I just took a look at my leaf blower. If i wanted to blow shit with it, I would remove the whole 3 ft pipe coming from the fan part and shit there. Then replace the pipe/nozzle and leave.

Yes, the wood chipper amused me.

I think that has got to be my first great comment. It nice to be regarded positivly now, istead of negativley. I went around the site and counted 16 lame comments on my posts.

If 4 people vote great comment, can i get 2 points?

That was a fabulous story Bunghole. She deserved it so much. Come to think of it, what can I crap on of my next door neighbors?

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"Those who write on shithouse walls, roll their shit into little balls. Those who read their words of wit, eat those little balls of shit." Author Unknown

Don't push your luck, KOC.

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"Say, has anybody seen my sweet Gypsy Rose Volcano?"

I got several stories about pooping in weird places, my worst has had to have been over the side of my girlfriends parents boat....it was a horrible experience, to lay the load in front on your girl and her parents, we both were still in school, seniors in h.s. and we had went out on a trip to the lake with her parents, the lunch was bugging everyone, but since i have ibs, it seemed to affect me the most, i finally said to my girls mom, i can't wait i gotta go, so her mom ( dad wasn't with us thank god) told me to go over the side, we pulled up next to a tree line to give me some privacy, i got my pants down and got somewhat situated when the torrential wave of runny poo came pouring out of me, then the worst part hit, I had to pee, now let me tell u that was chore, leaning of the side far enough to tuck junior down to pee, i ended almost peeing in the boat, but the poo kept coming and kept coming, and both my girl and her mom where right there it was a small boat my feet were on a seat. They both were cool about it though, since i have ibs, that occured twice more, only from then on if i had to pee, it was in a bottle.....i did catch my girl's mom checking out junior, who was available for many to see.....how horrible....i had major woodage when she was looking

..."KeepOnCrappin (595) -- 03.16.2006 -- 'I think that has got to be my first great comment...If 4 people vote great comment, can i get 2 points?'...'"

YEP!

Robin Williams commented on getting drunk:
"What? I took a dump in your Tuba? Oh! I'm sorry! You said SIT in with the band! I'm sorry!"

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You have the right to remain Silent but Deadly....