I went skiing on Sunday. Before I left the house I went through my usual morning routine: eat, shit, shower, and then I left for the hill. The morning was great, I got a lot of runs in, and around 11:30 I stopped for lunch. I paid $6 for a lousy hamburger and got back on the hill.

After another hour or so I was on a slower chairlift when I felt the pressure build up. It felt like a big one, and I knew I had to get it out soon.

Within 2 minutes of the pressure build up the chairlift stopped. I was suspended 25 ft above skiers, barely holding in a monster turd. I started fidgeting and broke out in a sweat.

After five minutes (but what seemed like an eternity) the chairlift moved again. By now I had started farting (quietly, but smell-ily), and the other guy on the lift was looking at me with a mix of fear and pity and disgust.

I got to the top of the lift and looked around for a bathroom. Nothing! Not even a storage closet, just the lift room where the operator sits. I asked the operator where the nearest bathroom was and the answer was discouraging at best. I had to ski down a black diamond, take a different lift up, and then ski halfway down another run to get to a bathroom. So I set out, praying I could hold it in.

I got about 500 meters when I hit the moguls. After the first one threatened to push my poop out for me I was ready to cry. I looked around frantically, and saw some trees in the out of bounds area. Relief! I rushed over there, ignoring the calls of other skiers warning me I was going out of bounds.

I hid myself sufficiently, dropped trou, and let it out. What a monster! It fell through the snow and left a 'footprint' in the snow. I wiped up with some Kleenex I had, and buried that with the turd. I started whistling and turned around to head back to the run.

As I turned around I saw a man in an orange snowsuit looking at me! Holy shit! I yelled, and then saw he was with the ski patrol! He was chuckling, and explained that one of my fellow skiers had ratted me out for going out of bounds. I had to explain the situation, and he said he'd just gotten there as I was zipping up, but he figured out what was going on. I was embarrassed and just wanted to get the hell away from this guy, so after enduring a short lecture about going out of bounds I got back to the run and took off! I hope I never see that guy again next season.

-- Disco Poo