Damn, what a prissy pussy! I would have just gotten revenge for you stinking up my toilet, not forbade you from using it.

..."If they can't take your shit, then don't take any from them!..."

Brilliant, scatoman! Just brilliant! And how water closet wise of you to end your story this way. One of the things that brought me together with my significant other was the fact that we both had a relaxed, open, Shameless attitude towards bathroom use. We even laugh when we smell each others' farts.

It is essential that you determine someone's attitude towards bathroom use and practices if you are contemplating spending any amount of time--much less your entire life--with them.

A very wise and witty treatise, scatoman!

Good story. I liked this bit:
"fudgy-yet-slightly-watery load, peppered with chili seeds."

SamDamnit!
Rectum Rector
of
The Church of Poop
http://groups.myspace.com/THECHURCHOFPOOP

That was a good story. I would not tolerate a significant other forbidding the use of a crapper. It's like denying an alleged loved one the comfort of bowel relief. A true friend/lover is one who sticks with you through thick and thin, and stinky crap.

The title is great - did you come up with it, or was it Dave's creation?

PooperGal
"Searching for the Origin of the Feces"

I'd love to lie and say that it's my title, but I'm too honest. I submitted it without one. The title is Dave's doing - and pretty good it is, too!

I've started adding titles to my reports now, though.

Thanks for the praise, everyone!

Dave-O is just the best at titles. I've always submitted my stuff with working titles for him. Here and there, he has used them. More often than not, however, he has come up with one of his own or modified mine.

That's why he's Our Mr. Pooper.

Great stuff. I especially appreciated the jazz reference. Crap that putrid deserves to be cultured (literally and figuratively).

The jury appears to come in with a single voice on this one. Great job, scatoman, and keep 'em coming.

But as to your response "I'd love to lie and say that it's my title, but I'm too honest," there's another reason we suspect that you didn't lie about this ... which is that Dave would have pounced on your sorry ass. So on the question of your honesty, the jury will have to remain out.

I've never been refused shitting priviledges by a woman but have been asked "try not to do too much damage" once and was bothered by that, I would have dumped this gal asssap. Good story, the turtle has once again reared his ugly head in the middle of a relationshit.

She said the guy a couple doors down wouldn't mind? That's ridiculous! Who was supposed to ask him? Either way, dick or not, I'm sure he'd have had something less-than-polite to say.

Great story, and good advice.

If she refused to let you use the toilet then you should have indeed stuck your ass out the window and pooped in the shrubs.That would have solved the problem.

Courtesy flush. Courtesy flush. Courtesy flush.

But, I agree with Shit Volcano. What WERE you supposed to do if you had to "number two?". It's a good thing that the relationship didn't last and you found your wife.

.....hugging bunnies since 1969

It would be a good story if you had shit out the window and the negihbor had his head out or a landscaper was working. But it would also have been funny if you had upper-decker her.
I think turd terrorisim is ok in this situation.

However, the funniest of all would be to piss and shit in a bottle or bucket, etc. and then leave it in a back closet uncapped or under a couch cusion, etc.

"needed to lay a beer-fuelled, kebab-laden monster cable"
At many electronics stores, there is a premium brand of wiring called "Monster Cable."

I suppose I should start Adobe Photoshop...

It would have been really funny if you shit out the window and your mean neighbor lived one floor below you happened to look out the window at that precise moment.Y0u woild have had a fight with a real shithead.

You should have coiled a cable around the seat before you dumped that chick. Nice work!

Crikey, scatoman, your stories and posts never fail to make me laugh. I always read your stuff with a British accent and when you mentioned the word "shrubbery" I almost fell off my chair. (Monty Python reference)

Very glad you came to your senses with that nasty woman. I see you like Indian foods. Have you found a decent Indian restaurant in the States yet?

I have often said that the true test of whether you are comfortable in any place--residential or commercial--is if you can take a shit there. I remember my long tenure at The Grand Opera House in my hometown, where, over 25 years or so, I clawed my way up from stagehand to Chairman of the Board. What I remember best (or worst), though, is when I had to make a nasty, semi-public poo in the lone toilet just off the stage. Subsequently, we remodeled the basement into nice dressing/bath facilities, but in the old days, the single backstage crapper was a sort of "stall" on the stage level (the walls didn't go very far up). You had only minimal sight privacy and NONE from sound/smell. My only consolation is that over the 100+ years of our beloved Opera House, everybody from Caruso to Houdini to Elvis must have used this thunderjug. (Yes, ELVIS, girls--unless he shit on the floor of his dressing room, which I heard he was wont to do.)

So, one night my supper had been three sandwiches and a large order of onion rings from a local place called the "Pig-'N-Whistle" (can you think of a better name for a greasy barbecue joint--early Truth in Advertising!). This concoction hit my small intestine and went into nuclear meltdown. We were hosting a touring company of "Oklahoma" that night, and they had their own stage crew, so I didn't have much to do but sit around and get more and more miserable. I wanted to leave, but it was my job to stay and lock up.

During the first act, my bowels were rumbling and churning like a speech from von Ribbentrop to the Reichstag; by intermission I felt like I had appendicitis and was doubled over in pain upstairs on the Bridge, praying for a fartulary release. Finally, some gas did bubble towards the grid (the natural convection of the building drew air from the auditorium and wings across the stage and upward into the flyloft), and I was able to make my way back downstairs for the finale (so I thought).

Would that I had held my wind. The release of the gas seemed to ignite deep within me a pyroclastic lava flow which rumbled through my lower tract with all the inexorable force of the Johnstown flood. As this tsunami of shit hurtled towards the frail restraint of my anal spinchter, I knew it would be curtains for me well before it was curtain calls for the show.

With my hand literally over my butt, I duck-walked to the johnny. Just as Curly was beginning his big finale number, I somehow managed to get the door closed and my pants open. As Curly onstage was singing, "Oklahoma/where the wind comes sweeping down the plain," my tush hit the toilet, and I was letting go with something that sounded and smelled like you were pouring a barrel of rotten onions off a tall building onto a dead pig carcass lying in wet cement. This was not the most disgusting shit I have ever taken (that story will come later), but it was definately the #2 of #2's.

Of course, the open-roofed "stall" simply acted like a megaphone, and as Curly sang, "where the waving wheat/shall sure smell sweet," the sound and stench of my humiliating bowel burst was wafted by the building's natural convection right through the wings and across the stage.

I am told that a significant number of this professional cast broke character and looked offstage (maybe they thought a bomb had gone off), but I just sat there, a prisoner on the porcelain throne, until well after the curtain rang down. Even though this was, at the time, the only offstage pot, nobody bothered me (maybe they were waiting for the Coroner to get there); I am told that they just held it until the audience had left and then went to the lobby bathrooms.

I never knew. I stayed in there and shit and cried until most of the touring company was out of the way, and then I crept out and did my locking-up duties as inconspicuously as possible.

Since then, for some reason, I've never been embarassed to go to the loo at The Grand Opera House!

For Christ's sake, Dumpster, don't waste this precious material in the comments section. Spilling this story here is like dumping the perfect load in the parking lot rather than holding it long enough to let it slide smoothly down the perfect porcelain bowl into holy water. You don’t win awards, sir, for best comment of the year, and you’ve got award nominee written all over you. If we had such a thing on PoopReport, I’d quickly volunteer to be your agent, (for a standard percentage of your user points, of course.)

Dumpster : your story made me laugh. Wish you had saved it for a true poop report.

Scatoman: Good story. Ahhh, thinking back to the college days. A couple years ago I attended a college party at a dorm room and this one girl proceeded to take a big ass shit in the suite bathroom during the party. It ranked so bad and everyone was gagging at the smell. Myself, being a male shameful shitter at the time, could barely contain myself as my images of girls either not shitting or shitting good smelling powderpuffs was shattered and my life has been a trainwreck ever since.

Wow--A compliment like this from Logjam, that Prince of Poop, nearly makes me have to change me undies!!

Somebody needs to tell me what to doo. I have about two dozen of these (true) stories, but His HOLEiness, EmPOOror Dave I, has instructed me that I can only send him one more right now, so I am going to have to let the rest of them gurgle around in my lower tract until I get permission to share them (in Technicolor(c)) with the Wonderful World of Doo-Doo.

He's giving you the classic run around. Send him your stories, all of them, then hound him. Don't take no for an answer. You've already figured out that calling him names helps. He hates that. Get personal.

Well I've never been to Heaven, but I shit during Oklahoma.... "tsunami of shit" lol

Indian food dumps will gag anyone but your ex-gf was wrong to ban you. No hope after that.

Dumpster, this piece was gold, maybe yellow and brown too but definitely front page material. As Logjam has said send them all to Dave, remember the squeaky wheel gets the grease, the nuts get the restraining order.

"producing resonant farts similar in timbre to Jaco Pastorius's Fender Jazz Bass."

Bonus points for working Jaco into a poop report. Good for you for "dumping" that girl.
Happy trails,
L. Wrong
Chairman & CEO, PPK Industries

Interesting, dave hasn't limited me yet.

Could be though that I only submitted one story though.

KOC, the disovery of this site has done for my Id what a chocolate pie made of Ex-Lax does for the human plumbing. Plus, like Shrek, I'm "not the sharpest tool in the shed," when it comes to maneuvering through a web site (although this is one of the BEST RUN I have ever seen). Anyway, I think I have clogged Dave up so bad that he just needs some time to digest me.

Poopsters of the world, realize this: Dave is our collective alimentary canal: What comes out depends on what comes in.

Wouldn't you hate to have the job of being the Desceding Colon for all of cyberspace?

Well Dumpster you could jsut write your stories on these reply boards. Oh wait.
Well just post your Christmas Carol parodies in the proper spot and i will be happy.

KOC, I am trying to contruct my PR persona like a really good turd--one layer at a time.

You just wait till next Christmas (if I haven't been kicked off the site by then), when I start posting the VERSES to some of my "carols." There is something about Christmas (God bless it) that brings out the mordant strain in me.

KOC, you make me feel like a real piece of shit. THANK YOU SO MUCH!

Happy to help out Dumpster.

I put verses to my songs already, so the hell with you, you fucking piece of a turdlet.

And that last comment is sung to which tune?

If you really knew me, you would never call me a "turdlet." Those who know me say I am a BIG piece of shit.

Which comment? THe one I posted on Go add it to the Mountain are to Deck the Halls and ahh dammit i forget the other one. The hell eith that, jsut post some more there.

OR maybe Dave would like to write a story on this one that contains the ones we made up.

Great story! My God, she wouldn't let you use her toilet? What kind of person does that? But I definitely agree that you should feel comfortable to take a crap with your partner around. I am very shameful, and won't let my fiance even THINK that I might poo, but even though he is shameful too, I know he poos and he makes it stink and I don't care.

RB, welcome to PR! There are a number of very lengthy and incisive posts on your topic on PR. I won't take the time to link them all here, but women's discomfort about shitting around their men is one of our most commonly discussed subjects. Stick around and join the fun!

I was just reading through this thread and found myself wondering what has happened to KOC. Has he been run off the site either officially or unofficially?

KOC still comments from time to time. He just isn't as active as he used to be. As far as I know he has not been banned.