That reminds me of the joke about the guy who goes into a public restroom. After he finishes, he notices that there is no toilet paper so he ask the guy in the next stall if he has any he can pass under the stall to him. The guy in the next stall says "sorry, but I'm afraid I'm out over here too."

The buy sits there another minute pondering how to solve this quandary. Then he says to the guy in the next stall "pardon me, but do you have change for a twenty?"

hahaha what coney was this at? i am familiar with most of them!

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all aboard the farty train to pooterville..if you can't shit at my house, we aren't friends

I`ve heard of "musical chairs", when you have to sit down on the nearest chair when the music stops.

Looks like you`ve invented a new game, Logman - "musical shitters". What kind of piped crap were they playing in the toilet: Led Zep`s "Big Log?"

Oops, it was Robert Plant, not Led Zep - and it`s not crap! 2 mistakes in 1 sentence, what a fuckwit.

While I don't doubt the veracity of this story...what I glommed onto the most was LJ's use of every single colloquialism and tired, frayed, description ever used on any front page story.
You, sir, are a genius, and I love your style man. Nobody can hold a candle to you when it comes to clenching one's tongue in one's cheek.

At least I hope I got that, otherwise this sounds like I greatly dis'd my beloved LJ, and that I would never do, on purpose.

Uh, Bilge, this isn't LJ. This is LM.

I will tell you this, ater having been in that situation mny times (minus the presents on the seat), I have learned to hover, squat, hang from the stall walls, whatever is necesary in order to get the job done. I am not afraid to poop in public, I actually kinda enjoy it. Congrats for blowing up the Wally world commode LJ.

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If want something done right, send a midget.

oops....well then, it goes without saying that I'm a retard with poor reading skills and comprehension, and Logman's story IS just a sorry , tired retelling of the same old poop. Damn, and I got to use the word "colloquialism" and wasted it....fucking shame.

But my words for Logjam are still true...so there....and Dave, I'm thinking that comment correcting me was pretty lame...attacking me like that, looks like I have several months work ahead of me, now....We'll see, Mr Mighty High Horse Poolitzer Prize Winner Now My Head is WAY to Big for my Hat World Traveler Person....we'll see....

This story sucked!!! What is so special about this??

Man eats big meal.
Man gets gas.
Man has to shit in public place.
Man finds dirty restroom.
Man drops load.

Big deal. Boring weak short story.

I remember a few months back a conversation here about the shamefuls that are afraid to sit on a public toilet. I was pictureing one of them hovering over afraid to sit only to make a mess on the seat for everyone else to deal with.

I'm glad you made it in time and you were able to find some tp too. but if you did have a premature release your wife easily could have gotten you some new undies from the store.

Bilge -- I made the same mistake when I saw today's story on the front page. I thought, Hey, Dave's finally gotten around to publishing one of those stories I sent that he didn't think made the grade. (He must have 60 of them from me, some good stuff, too.) Figured he was feeling sorry for me, what with daphne giving me the what for and then Bunga administering the granddaddy of all backhanded compliments. Ouch.

But then in the story's first sentence I got to the phrase "my fiancé." Well, I knew something was wrong, because I could never bring myself to say "my fiancé" even when, long ago, I had a fiancé. It would have meant, for one thing, going out to purchase an expensive diamond, money out the window even had we stayed married.

Anyway, this is a first for me: getting a compliment on a story I didn't write. And after reading your take of it, I wish I HAD penned it, down to the last cliché. (My memory is that TBW already did a spoof along these lines.)

No TP? Too cheap to use a dollar bill?

CitiBank!
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What's in your wallet?

I have a friend so cheap he'd be asking for change for a $1.

Back to the story at least we learned about another crummy place to eat. I think the storyteller could have gone into more detail about why he wouldn't download in the Wal-Mart, shameful shitters have always gotten good grades from doniker.

P.S. ColloquIalism Bilge, 2 balls, 2 strikes, and here's the windup.

Here in the States, bunga, we don't capitalize the first I....must be a Canadian thing....

The only thing I could think of after the first couple of paragraphs was "I miss fish and chips".

The imagery of a grown man waddling to and fro in a public restroom with all his nuts and bolts flapping in the wind never gets old. It's a Benny Hill moment, and it will always make me laugh.

Fish and chips.

Nuts and bolts.

Goddammit. I'm suddenly not hungry anymore.

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.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com

No matter how many times I preach "always check first for tp", my IBS emergencies mean that I rarely heed my own advice. I felt your pain. Excellent story.

What really ticked me off about this story is Walmart.
How the hell does a company that has revenue larger than the GNP of most countries, not have toilet paper in its bathroom. Mr. Logman, you should have shuffled out of that bathroom, went to the managers office, and demanded that they send someone posthaste to replenish the roll stock. I am sure that they would have taken notice, and rectalfied the situation immediately.

BTW, did the fish and chips come with malt vinegar?

This was at Dorian's Coney Island, They used to be called Alex's Coney Island but I guess they sold it or something. I submitted another one a few weeks ago telling a much better story from when I was in Iraq and caught a local stomach virus, hopefully it gets posted soon, keep in mind I used a lot of metaphors there too but they're all in theme with the military setting.

Bunga, it actually was great food, I think it was just the sheer volume of greasy deep-fried foods that pushed everything else in my system right out. I didn't really have a problem shitting at Wal-Mart either, I just prefer to go at home so I can kick back and relax with a Game Informer or something. Trust me, I'm in the US Army, I've shit in some of the worst possible places, including an old latrine with no dividers, on a Sunday morning after every man in the platoon had a huge, greasy breakfast. The nice part, though, is that 1 Sunday paper can provide reading material for the entire group of soldiers that are dropping their morning dukes.

And OF COURSE I had malt vinegar! No other way to eat it, in my books!

Werd. No other way. Viva La Arthur Treacher's!

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.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com

Logman, if its any consolation I'm sure your not the first guy to have gone shuffling through a Wal-Mart bathroom with his pants around his ankles.

wouldn't be the first woman either!

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Rock-n-roll! Poopy-poo!

Holy Shit. Is this Coney Island the place that has the funny chili sauce that's very well ground and a tad red? You will not believe this.

My mimi (I love her) knew a woman who got fired from the New Castle PA Coney Island. On her last day, she took the chili recipe before leaving. If anyone wants it, I accept emails from my name link.

We used to eat there after football games, and I'd get a hamburger because at the tender age of 9, it seemed just fucked up to be able to go out to eat and eat a FUCKING HOT DOG. I was fed hot dogs as a kid and thought "God, I want a hamburger". So, at Coney Island, I'd get a hamburger. They were so small. If you pulled the bun up, the burger patty was almost a half inch smaller than the bun all the way around. But it was a hamburger. Fuck it.

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.....hugging bunnies since 1969
www.daphneszoo.com

This calls to mind an experience I had quite a few years ago. There used to be a restaurant in my town that had a "pickle bar," i.e., a huge assortment of different styles of pickles, sweet and sour, and some pickled peppers, as well.

Now, I really like whole pepperoncini, so before the meal, I sort of over-indulged in the pickled morsels. As in: about fifteen.

This was followed by a large meal, and then, afterwards, as we stood in the parking lot chatting with friends, I suddenly felt it: enormous pressure in my lower bowel. That strange feeling like you have to expel an enormous fart, but you don't dare because, somehow, you know this is...different. That it will be the king of sharts if you let it go.

I made it home, only by letting my wife drive, and desperately clenching my buttcheeks together and "bearing down" against the seat. But it was the most uncomfortable 15 minute ride of my life, and at home, the sound as I sat upon the pot was like a thunderclap.

Since then, I have always indulged in these peppers with moderation, rather than like a pig.

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A student of all things stinky, I endeavor to document all that which is foul and smarmy.
http://unclestinky.wordpress.com

I was once making a delivery to a food warehouse when a driver came in delivering
55 gallon barrels of those pepperocini. He had one on the truck that he opened, and invited a few of us for a sample. Myself and about 6 others gorged ourselves on the salty/hot treats. That night I shit what can only be described as molten iron slag. I'm sure there were other households in the area that also experienced similar horrors.

I'll never forget in college when the guys who lived in the room directly above mine had a party. One of the guys had his girlfriend visiting (a really hotty-hot would could fuckin drink!) and ofcourse, she got tanked. We dared her to drink the brine from the pepperoncini jar after imbibing on about 16 beers. She guzzled it like a champ and went right to bed. The next morning I went upstairs to meet them and walk to breakfast with the crew and I was greeting with a new welcome mat right in front of their door. She'd puked in the middle of the night right there and it burned the color right out of the carpet! Looked like battery acid was spilled on the floor! A few hours later she was groaning in the girls bathroom stall, seated - not kneeling. Poor crazy bitch.

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Rock-n-roll! Poopy-poo!

Holy PILES logjam, I just ate at that coney island for the first time last weekend. Had a Dorian's omelet at 1am, what a disaster. They cut up about 1lb of bacon, 1lb of sausage, 1lb of ham and 1 lb of cheese along with fourteen eggs in the damn thing, YUM!

I'm not lying, pal. It's on Telegraph rd. just north of Vanborn. HAH!

That night I shit what can only be described as molten iron slag. I'm sure there were other households in the area that also experienced similar horrors.

I always called that the "ol' squirt n' burn."

_______
A student of all things stinky, I endeavor to document all that which is foul and smarmy.
http://unclestinky.wordpress.com

Damn Plunder! That's the place! It was my first time there too, we were getting dinner because my fiance had to fast after midnight for heart surgery. If you're down for fish and chips, theirs is great, 3 massive chunks of cod!

I always debate hobbling to the next stall over with my pants down. I'm positive the minute I make a run for it someone will walk in.

Mr. Dorian would be aghast at what his restaurant does to the average american toilet.

My floozie waitress kept eyeballing me as if I was her ticket out of there. The Dorian's special successfully pulled that "I'm outta here" trick on everything from the duodenum on down.

I always look!

I knew what was going to happen the minute I read the name "Wal-Mart". Those bathrooms are disgusting! It sounds like you actually got a fairly clean one that day. Lucky you!

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Born right the first time.