Once I lived in an apartment with two other girls. We threw a big party one night and some drunk idiot managed to clog the toilet with God knows what. So until the plumber came we couldn't really use the toilet.

Well, that is just fine for my two roommates... one was almost always constipated, and the other one was mildly regular. But I shit every day, so this was a nightmare for me.

We didn't know any of our neighbors very well (except for the two creepy guys that were always trying to give us massages) so I was stuck.

Well, that night I just broke down. I decided to take action. I got a plastic Walgreens bag, made sure it had no holes in it, and tromped into the bathroom. Praying this was going to be a solid one, I placed the open bag in the bathtub and squatted over it.

It wasn't so bad, pooping in a bag... until the smell hit me. The poo was in the open air instead of dropping into water. It was vile and there was no escape until the poo was over.

My roommates were in the kitchen waiting for the outcome, laughing their asses off because they could hear the poop hitting the plastic bag (the bathroom door was in the kitchen). It was even worse when I walked out of the bathroom triumphantly holding the plastic bag of poop. They didn't know whether to laugh at the fact that I had just pooped in a bag or to retch from the unholy smell that followed me into the kitchen.
-- Melly [1]