Classic teen, shit-faced splutter story! I've posted this elsewhere on the site, but putting too much trust in a fart can lead to dastardly doings, indeed. I kind of doubt your buddy did it on purpose, though, Obi. The combination of things that you describe he ingested can lead to unpredictable results. BTW, I really liked the way you put this together. I could almost hear the raucous laughter!

Obi-dung Kenobi? I wonder if he means old Bean Kenobi?

All the debauchories of consuming mass amounts of rum. I have personally had to shit in my shower because I was so drunk from rum. I couldn't even aim my ass. Oh the memories.

good story.. I can almost smell the rancid-ness of crap burning on a space heater. Horrible...

Just the Cheetos alone are enough to give me a violent case of butt pee. If I ever downed the foul mixture of the other stuff, my shit would generate enough thrust to fly to China.

*Standing Ovation*

Literally, a tear ran from my left eye from laughing at this. It hit so close to home with me because I remember the night my buddy and I, both 16, decided to get smashed on Jack and Jim Beam from his step-dad's stash in his basement. I wound up puking in my sleep and staining his carpet that he loved so much. I could picture my friend trying the same space heater trick that your pal so terribly failed at. Oh man, that was wonderful.

I firmly believe that you and your buddy could keep teens from drinking had you only kept that space heater in tact. You know how M.A.D.D. takes demolished cars to different high schools during homecoming and prom season to prevent drunk driving. You could prevent teens all around from drinking if you just kept that shitty heater. You could put it on display as a testament to the stupid things teens do when they get ripped on the booze.

Hmm...did buddy ever become a bartender after that? If so tell me the bar so I can avoid it *shudder* Even at 16 I knew how to mix a decent drink. when I was like 8 I was mixing my neighbors Long Island Iced Tea.

Yep all the ladies in our little base housing community would come around for a little yap around our patio furnature. Mom would hand me a pitcher, some booze, and some mix and tell me to go mix drinks for everyone.

So you're trying to tell us that your buddy, a rookie drinker, consumed that much alcohol and didn't puke? And had was clear headed and responisible enough to "spend the next two hours carefully taking apart and cleaning the heater"?

I'm afraid I have to call a Bullshit on this story.

The Greeks believed that all things were made of four basic elements: earth, air, water, and fire. I’m not sure what category they put shit in, but I’d guess normal shit would be a combination of earth, wind, and water. So had you performed this ingenious experiment in ancient Greece, you would have been the first to discover the fifth basic element: pooptonium.

Thanks all for your warm receptions of my debut de butt (ha!). Your warm, moist, gooey brown receptions. I think I've discovered the Brown Havens--where else can one's effort to regale his fellow with turd tales be so fully appreciated? See, world, I'm not merely obsessed with the vulgar. I'm part of a fecally intellectual elite that most of you will never understand...mwahahaha!

Anyhoo...

Mr. Bullshit: If my use of the word "carefully" implied any kind of sobriety, clear-headedness, or responsibility on the part of my friend while cleaning the heater, I sincerely apologize. Nothing could be further from the truth. However, with the thing still quite warm (AND COVERED IN HIS OWN SHIT!) as it was, I thought it would be understood that it was something of a meticulous operation. And who's to say he didn't puke while in and/or around the John? At least I never *saw* him heave anything up. But even if I did, seeing as this isn't PukeReport.com.....

Logjam: I think you may very well be onto something with the Greek reference. Although I've seen/experienced firsthand some shit scenarios I wouldn't necessarily rule the constituency of fire out of as well.

ThreePly: Thanks, glad you liked it. Your idea inspired me... I could see this episode being featured in one of those grotesque educational films: "The OTHER Dark Side of Teenage Drinking", or something to that effect.

Bravo, excellent story. What a shame that youth is wasted on the young. The bulletproof ego, the games created while drinking, the stomach lining impervious to any food or alcoholic concoction...all are reminders of days past when our teenage urges and desires outpaced wisdom. This is a brilliant tale especially the space heater episode.

Bravo! You topped my list of weird places to find shit. If you hadn't gotten the heater unplugged in time I would have loved to have heard the story to the fire department.

great story. i just shit myself from laughing so hard. oh here we go again. excuse me....

I'm cryin' over here...
"bowel mustard" has now been added to my vocabulary. I can almost feel that wrung out, cramped stomach from laughing so hard feeling you guys must have had. This is the kind of thing that you be able to laugh with your friend about well into your 80's. Great fucking story!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Peace

G Ras

That story was awesome, i wish it were my own. When your friend gets married please have that be your wedding toast to him.

poop and potatoes: First of all, I love the way your name rolls off my tongue...poop and potatoes...poop and potatoes... actually, this friend of mine actually did get married back in August. In his grandpa's Pentacostal church; big Oregon redneck wedding, family, friends, and the works. Believe me, nothing would have given me more pleasure than to share the details of that night (not to mention others before and since) with all the dearly beloved gathered together that day. But, it turns out, I was denied speechmaking rights (probably for that very reason) in favor of the groom's father's: "Good luck, best wishes, we're all so proud of you, blah blah blah, etc." Go figure. I guess people are still wired to believe that wedding toasts and Poop Reports must be mutually exclusive items. Shame, really.

Now, I know why George Bush's entire Texan estate runs on solar........................................

I've never had alcohol give me the shits. The only time I ever got really sick from booze was at my brother-in-law's wedding. The family decided to put me in the trusted position of punch dispenser and cake handler.
My father-in-law (sadly dead now, but, then again, the marriage that made him my father in law has been dead for six years) made this vile concoction called "Swamp Water". I can at least verify two ingredients--a bottle of Everclear and a entire fifth of rum--as I watched him pour it into the punch bowl. Once everything was mixed together, the contents looked a lot like a backed-up sewer.
So stupid me decides to have a mason-jar full, bitching the whole time about how nasty it is. And then another, with the statement, "Once you drink some, it's not that bad".
In all, I consumed four mason jars full of this monstrosity in about two hours. My food-consumption during this time consisted of several slices of wedding cake. Did I forget to mention that I was 1. 22 and unused to hard liquor and 2. weighed all of 120 pounds?
So by 10 pm I was pretty plastered. Of course my husband, who doesn't drink, remembered I get horny when drunk, and, seeing as I've been running around in a nun's costume with two thigh-high splits running up it, with fishnet hose underneath (it was a Halloween wedding), he's raring to go. So we repair to our room.
I get inside, close the door, and promptly spill onto the ground, because I had lost all motor function, being completely numb at this point. This freaked my husband out, so he ran and got his stepmom. When she heard how much I had had to drink, she kind of poured me into bed, put a washcloth on my head, and brought a basin. "But I don't puke when I get drunk," I told her a couple of times, before I grabbed the basin and proceeded to throw up things I had only thought about eating.
My husband was pissed off. He's a teetotaler and a jerk about it, plus he knew he wasn't getting any that night, and proceeded to tell me he was embarrassed at my behavior.
He shut up when he found out that the bride and groom, all the bridesmaids, and 3/4ths of the guests had had to puke several times on their way home.
I really figured I'd get some butt-blasts from that, but I guess I cleared it all out the other way.

Fantastic imagery. The influence of Olestra certainly plastered a smile on my face, as I myself have suffered more than my share of incidences appropriated by this dark, synthemolecular interloper. I would attribute this chemical to no less than 40% contribution to the situation you deftly detailed above.

The influence also of rum is amusing as well...as many of us know, the amount of unfermented sugar in rum virtually guarantees detrital anomalies. Your ill-founded evening's fate was assured as soon as the doomed trifecta of Olestra, intoxication, and youth collided in a rancid display.

Tangentially, on the subject of Olestra, my mind wanders immediately to the medication Xenical, which is intended for weight loss, and no doubt whose existence has provided gross impetus for several scategological anectodes without a proper place for them to be heard.

What is Xenical? Check it out:
http://www.xenical.com/xen_do_home.asp

Xenical works, basically, by attaching itself (Orlistat) to a lipase of a mono- or triglyceride (fatty acid) preventing it from becoming digestible within the intestine. A full third of all fats ingested by the patient become indigestible, and so must pass through the colon and out the ol' backdoor.

The product of that equation is always slippery, fat-engorged feces...one would be hard-pressed to find a better laxative than liquid fats.

I would like to hear some Xenical stories. I am sure some of them may rival the hilarity of this one.

Here, also, is an informative article about the ills of Olestra.
http://www.cspinet.org/olestra/11cons.html

Very fun to read.

4. "Olestra sometimes causes underwear staining associated with "anal leakage."" was all I needed to read....

Coating my rockhards with grease is a dangerous proposition...and that fatty... drip drip drip would make staying on my bar-stool way too difficult.

Greace,
G Ras

hey these stories are very gross and it should be illegal to have these kind of websites!!!!

Funny story!

wow... so many long words!

Happy new years all.

Bob Frand. It should be illegal for you to live. Unfortunately, it's not. So I just can't come over there with a sawed-off shotgun and blow your pathetically tiny dick off.

What dick?

Great story.

Not bad.

So, did your buddy get all of his burnt on shit, cleaned out of the heater?
_______
A man who farts in church, sits in his own pew.