The Secret Society Of The Shart

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(Editor's note: this was originally posted on the author's blog.)

It happened on Saturday morning. I was driving to Glendale to pick up my mother-in-law's birds. (Don't ask.) The night before, I went to see Lez Zeppelin at The Bluebird. When you're watching four lesbians cover Misty Mountain Hop, you gotta drink.

So I drank, and then I drank some more. At the end of the night, I got that urge that only a drunken Jew in Denver could have at three in the morning: I wanted a beef, egg, and chicharon burrito from Chubby's. It's the perfect combination of pig fat, grizzle, cholesterol, and jalapeno peppers. And it tastes oh-so-good.

After finishing my gastronomic nightmare, I went to bed. The next day, in my car for the bird pick-up, I noticed a familiar grumbling in my belly. In the past, this grumbling had signaled that I had to release some gas. Subsequently, I did what I had always done in that situation: I tightened my stomach muscles, relaxed my sphincter, and flatulated. Unfortunately, this was no normal flatulence. It was one with a partner -- a very determined, wet, smelly partner.

I'd sharted.

As defined by Urban Dictionary, a shart is "a small, unintended defecation that occurs when one passes gas (blend of 'shit' and 'fart')". It's also known as "foop" or "gambling and losing" or "gas followed by mass" or "shitting yourself."

Obviously, I wasn't prepared for this surprise. I knew I had to fix it before I picked up the birds. I couldn't face my mother-in-law literally smelling like shit. Plus, I didn't want to stain my car's interior. So I pulled over at the first McDonald's I saw.

Anonymously zipping past the masses waiting for their McGriddles and Egg McMuffins, I ran to the bathroom. Unfortunately, when I got there, the one stall with a door was occupied by a man teaching his son how to poop. (Which my father probably should have done.) I banged on the door and the father told me to wait. When I frantically told him I couldn't, the son started crying. The father yelled at me. Soon, the manager appeared. At risk of spending more time soaking in my own feces, I jetted before the cops came.

Back in the car, it was like a sewage treatment plant. I made my way to a Taco Bell -- with the food they sell there, they were undoubtedly prepared for this kind of incident. I went into the handicapped stall so I would have enough space get the job done right. I first removed my shorts, set my underwear aside, and began wiping like the wind (front to back, of course). For fear of somebody seeing me bottomless at Taco Bell, I used the water in the toilet for a makeshift sponge bath. Then, I was somewhat clean. Unfortunately, my shorts and underwear were not.

I considered stretching my shirt into a very short dress. I considered making a toga-type sarong out of toilet paper. I considered bribing a Taco Bell staffer for her pants. Ultimately, though, I decided to wear my shorts sans underwear. I did love those boxers, however, so I rolled them up, shit side in, and walked out. Nothing is worse than walking out of Taco Bell and facing those nice taco lovers with your shit-covered underwear in your hands.

Eventually I made it to my mother-in-law's. She had no idea of the hell that I had been through and I wasn't about to blow her image of me as a man who can control his bowels, so I quietly got the birds and headed back to my house.

After showering vigorously with seven kinds of soap, all remnants of my fooping fiasco had been washed away. I put on new shorts and underwear (although I probably should have put on diapers or at least Depends). Quickly, I realized that whatever caused the initial shart wasn't quite finished with me yet. For the rest of the day, which seemed to be packed with wild and wonderful activities, I had anal leakage, also known as fecal incontinence.

I went to see my buddy's band, Rocky Mountain Jewgrass (yes, it's a Jewish Bluegrass band) play at an outdoor festival. In one-hundred-degree weather, my balloon knot kept dripping. To the sounds of country versions of Shalom Aleichem and Dayenu, I ran to and from the porta-potty in order to wipe. Alas, all the wiping and the heat baking my wet anus had some horrible ramifications.

I got taint chafe.

As defined by Wikipedia, the term "taint" refers to "the perineum, the region of the human body between the testicles or vulva and the anus." Well, my perineum was swollen, burning, raw, and irritated. I wanted to go home, shower again, and put this day of soft stool sickness behind me.

Unfortunately, my wife had other plans for me. She had an engagement party AND a birthday party that we HAD to attend. As time passed, my taint was so chafed that it felt like I had gotten a battery acid enema. At the engagement party, I walked around like a duck, trying to keep my legs, ass cheeks, and balls from rubbing anywhere near my anal region. At the birthday party, I couldn't even stand. I just sat there trying to drink the pain away.

As I grew drunker, I began to tell everybody about my plight. It turned out that nearly every person I spoke to, both male and female, had been in my situation at one point or another in their lives. They just never spoke about it. It was as if there was some heavily guarded Secret of the Shart.

Throughout the night, I heard fantastic tales of wet sensations, soaked skirts, and sock drips. I heard from a fundraiser who once sharted on a hike. I heard from a crime reporter who once sharted during sex. I heard from a chiropractor who once sharted on a patient. I learned that married people are more likely to discuss sharting than single people. I learned that pregnant woman uncontrollably shart without even knowing it. I learned that the older you are, the more likely you are to shart.

It suddenly occurred to me: sharting is what unites us as humans.

We could be Republicans or Democrats or Muslims or Jews or Gays or Straights. But we all have been in the horrible situation where our gastrointestinal functions got the most of us. Why do we allow ourselves to be divided by beliefs or backgrounds or orientations when we should be united by embarrassment? I say let's come together as one -- let's come together as one and shit our pants!

57 Comments on "The Secret Society Of The Shart"

Thunderbox's picture
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Taint fair, Mike - a full day of perineal pain and a wretched, raw ringpiece.

All for the small error of consuming pig fat, beef curtains, lips, assholes, hot chilis and whatever else Chubbys serve up in 3am demon burritos. Plus, of course, those couple of gallons of beer.

The voice of sanity

ChiefThunderbutt's picture
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The fact that you describe yourself as a drunken Jew in Denver and then consume a gastronomical creation containing pig fat makes me think that maybe you are not orthodox. My favorite Jewish group was a rap group. years ago, that called them selves "Two Jive Jews". I believe they were in Florida and their top line was, "oy vay!
it's so humid." Kinky Friedman and the Texas Jew boys also have some songs that are priceless.

Back to the shart. I have sharted more times than I can remember. I worked in a custom slaughterhouse for a few years processing farm raised animals for the owners (sorry Daphne). I would get quite dirty but if I was in a hurry I would drive home and clean-up there. I had a large piece of plastic with which I would cover the car seat on those occasions.

I pulled in the driveway one time and my wife was out in our very shady front yard. She came over and stuck her head in the car window to greet me. Oaf that I am I decided to greet her with a fart. Unfortunately my very large fart was about a pint of shit. It was really lucky that I was sitting on plastic.

I drove back to work, showered the shit off my ass while my overalls were being washed and dried. I didn't wear underwear then so the cleanup was easy.

_______
Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door you're on!

pnuttycorn's picture
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OWCH!! I hate taint chafe. Sometimes all you can do is just lay there naked, with a fan blowing on your raw area. I get ass crack chafe, cuz i'm fat, and my job is physical and it gets sweaty down there.
OWCH!!!

prarie doggin's picture
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You know those red-assed monkeys you see in the zoo? Thats what I look like sometimes. Makes you just want to dunk your ass into a vat of witch hazel or something.

Bilgepump's picture
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You look like a red assed monkey (baboon?) If so, why would you dunk your ass in witch hazel? Wouldn't you dunk your face in battery acid?
_______

The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough.

"One of the founding members of the Front Page Hyena Pack, and runs as its alpha male when the urge strikes him, which is often." Daphne (one perceptive chick)

prarie doggin's picture
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Bilge, I lost my last two sulphuric acid fights. I'm retired.

RoboCrap13's picture
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'The Secret Society of the Shart'...
What's the special handshake?
"Hey, Dave! Howya doi-EWWW!"

_______
You have the right to remain Silent but Deadly....

You have the right to remain Silent but Deadly....

prarie doggin's picture
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Betray the Society and you'll be sleeping with the brown trout.

CC's picture
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May The SHART be with you!
Shit Here And Remember To Flush

The Shit Volcano's picture
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An appropriate posting, considering today's incident here at the mini ranch. I recently got a hold of some fatty cheese, something I discovered I can't eat anymore. I discovered it very quickly after the meal when I started feeling a little queasy and my gut did that little moving rumbling thing. (You know, when an eruption's about to occur and the earthquake start moving toward the crater.)

I knocked off a few dry farts and just thought it was a simply case of crampy gas. This sometimes happens without resulting diarrhea if there is just enough fat to cause a disturbance but not enough to produce actual molten material. Sort of the Mount Baker of ass pain.

I felt a particularly large slug of gas reaching my butt crater when my chihuahua Octavia jumped on the couch and wagged her tail at me. It seemed like a perfect opportunity to drop a gas bomb on an unsuspecting Mexican canine. Unfortunately for me, Mount Baker quickly turned into Mount Saint Helens and then rapidly progressed to the Bishop Tuff at Long Valley. All I can say is there were ring fractures involved. (Look it up, people.)

Octavia was lucky. The pyroclastic flow was caught in my dress and completely missed her. Of course I was wearing no underwear, so the problem was a lot worse than it might have been. There was shit on my dress. There was shit in my crack, all over my cheeks, and down my legs all the way to my knees.

I sort of waddled to the bathroom, trying to keep my shit contained in my skirt. Octavia followed me to the bathroom just to watch. Here, I faced the next task, trying to get the damn dress over my head without getting shit on the rest of me. Of course it was one of those dresses that goes over the head like a T-shirt.

After managing to get the dress off without adding more volcanic deposits to the rest of my body, I faced the grim task of washing myself and the dress. As I wiped shit from my body in scoops, I finally noticed Octavia standing there in the open bathroom doorway.

They say that dogs don't smile. Well, those scientists didn't see this little shithead standing there with that grin on her face. Her tail wagged brightly and she panted, obviously laughing at my predicament.

The moral of this story: Never try to fart on a chihuahua. Especially a Taco Bell type.

_______
Well, you don't actually blow on it. That's just an expression.

I found Jesus! He was behind the sofa the whole time!

ChiefThunderbutt's picture
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Years ago my son would fart in our beagles face so hard her ears would flap in the breeze. It never seemed to bother her.

_______
Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door you're on!

ChiefThunderbutt's picture
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My farts are legendary and I think they are quite entertaining. When they are particularly aromatic I love nothing more than sharing them. Part of the humor of a well let fart is the sound. The SBD has its place but the fart that leaves the sphincter with the volume of a cymbal crash is by far my favorite. This tremendous volume is achieved by straining so as to push the fart from the anus as loudly as possible.

Unfortunately the high pressure fart can easily become the high volume shart. A few years back I decided to entertain my co-workers with a loud anal retort. Alas, I ended up with about a pint of chocolate
slush puppy in my undies. I waddled to the facility, tossed my boxers, wiped my ass with a roll or two of paper and daubed the shit out of my trousers as best I could. I still had an aura about me that caused me to be shunned for the remainder of the day.

_______
Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door you're on!

Thomasina Titt's picture
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_______
Thomasina Titt

Your piece was truly hilarious. Laugh? I nearly shart myself and threw my undies in the bin, just like Eddie says in "Shitting Easy".

Thomasina Titt

daphne's picture
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I loved this story! You made me laugh, Mike. The little comment "I ran to the bathroom. Unfortunately, when I got there, the one stall with a door was occupied by a man teaching his son how to poop. (Which my father probably should have done.)" was classic.


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

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

Butt Dumpling's picture
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Mike and Volcano, what great stories!I too am a member of the Secret Shart Society.However I prefer the term "Frap" It just sounds better.
Just last week I was training a new employee and we went to lunch at the local Korean/Chinese/Dogmeat cafeteria down the street.Parking is scarce in San Francisco so we walked to the nearest shithole to grab lunch.I could see he was really nervous on his first day.When we returned to work I was feeling the effects of the Mongolian Beef and Spicey Pork.At first I thought it was just gas so I decided to break the ice and rip a fart while he was working on the computer.What better way to bond with a subordinate than to rip one on his face while he's working? As I was doing my best Arnold Shwartzenegger pose I let her rip....but there was no sound.I could feel the gelatinous,warm, mud puddle in my drawers !What to do ? Luckily he didn't hear it so I excused myself to the restroom.When I dropped my boxers I could see the wet smear of chocolate cake batter soaking through my underwear through to my Dockers !I carefully removed my pants, however this Dribbling Butt Cheese made it down to my socks!I threw my drawers and socks in the trash and and cleaned my pants the best I could with paper towels.I walked out and told him my daughter called and I had to leave on an emergency.I will never Fart for entertainment again if I am not at home.

Anonymous Coward's picture
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Is it still a shart if you shit your pants ?

RoboCrap13's picture
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Shart = Shit + fart.
You do the math...
_______
You have the right to remain Silent but Deadly....

You have the right to remain Silent but Deadly....

Thomasina Titt's picture
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_______
Thomasina Titt

The scat gods must have it in for me!. Two days after I wrote to you about how I enjoyed your piece, I had a sudden visitation from The Shart.

I like to go country walking and had just arrived home wearing gaiters and boots. Sometimes they are very dirty (cow and sheep shit, etc.), so I take them off on the doorstep. As I took off the first gaiter I felt a rumbling from my guts, and thinking that it was nothing of concern, farted with gusto. A second later, to my horror, I followed through and felt a gush of poo rush to my sphincter which I tried desperately to close, but to no avail. In desperation I ripped off the gaiters and boots, but by the time I reached the bog the liquid brown had truly come to town. This time I didn't laugh and had to use half a pint of disinfectant to salvage my undies. (I almost blocked up the khazi with shithouse roll). I can't remember having sharted like that before, and pray to Cloaca, the Roman goddess of poo, colons and sewers that I never do so again!!

Thomasina Titt

Dillweed's picture
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I think Butt Dumpling just plain ole shit his pants.

ChiefThunderbutt's picture
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I am curious.......is there some magic volume of poop that must be surpassed before you are considered to have shit your pants rather than sharted?

_______
Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door you're on!

prarie doggin's picture
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Chief, its very complicated and only discernable on the molecular level. I suppose I will some day be able to understand the mathmatical formulas involved, but for now I can only make an educated guess when it happens.

Butt Dumpling's picture
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Chief,Great question! Is it volume?decibles?
maybe we should have a poll.Prarie,can you come up with a mathematical equation ?

Bilgepump's picture
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The equation, in order to fairly and properly applied, requires many variants, the mass of the sharter, the total square footage of the shartee (underwear, thong, jeans for the commandos, etc) a precise measurement of the PSI behind the shart, and the total gross weight of expellant(not net, the gas MUST be included in this to be accurate, gas has molecular weight). it would look something like this: S (shart) equal to or less than (because of the code protocol, can't use the symbols) M/GWE*SF*PSI/pi.

Pi is always included in any real equation, so I tacked 'er on the end there.
_______

The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough.

"One of the founding members of the Front Page Hyena Pack, and runs as its alpha male when the urge strikes him, which is often." Daphne (one perceptive chick)

Kay O. Pectate's picture
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OMG, this story (and the comments) are so funny!

We used to have PA system that would let you make announcements to the engine bays, upper dorms and outside of the firehouse. The firefighters would occasionally have contests and broadcast their farts over it.

I watched one guy piss his pants from straining so hard!

prarie doggin's picture
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Bilge, about the only pi that should be in that equation is mincemeat.

hockyoligist's picture
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_______
rodehardputupwet since Im new on here let me know if I say old wore out names is a shart the same as a WET FART?

if your gonna be a bear be a grizzly

Captain Craptastic's picture
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On a camping trip when I was about eight, I made up a game called "Smell Butt for a Dime" (this was 1978 after all, you could still use a dime for something). As my friend took the bait and got real close, I farted, so I gave him a quarter. If I had SHARTED, it might have cost me my week's allowance!!!
----Captain Craptastic!!!

----Captain Craptastic!!!

The Thunderous Crapper 63's picture
k 500+ points
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I liked the words fooping fiasco! LOL. Outstanding story man! I can NOT count on my fingers and toes how many times I have sharted. If you have NEVER eaten in a casino's employee cafeteria then you do NOT know the HORROR of it. In days gone by you could fart on the casino floor ripping them at will the slot machines drowning out the ass cheek vibrations. Today that has now also become impossible because the noisy coin has been replaced with the MUCH QUIETER ticket. Now you have to hold that fart in and when you combine that with a cafeteria lunch of salisbury steak and black bean soup well we ALL know what happens next. Launch sequence engaged!!
_______
The Thunderous Crapper 63 Enjoying home toilet advantage since 2004!

AHHHHHEMMMMMMMMMM JUST CLEARING MY THROAT!! ;)

ChiefThunderbutt's picture
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I have friends who insist that they have never shit their pants, should I classify them as dreamers or liars?

_______
Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door you're on!

Crapola's picture
Comment Quality Moderatorl 100+ points
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Scat-O-Logical and I are fortunate to live in a Manhattan high-rise that has a roof deck with lounge chairs. I am also fortunate that Scat-O-Logical bought me a really sexy bathing suit. I had put it on to go up to the roof, but was checking out Poop Report for a sec. And guess what - I sharted in the swimsuit. He sharted later the same day, in his swimsuit. Instead of sunning on the roof, we were washing out shitty swimsuits like crazy.

Nothing like togetherness for us newlyweds. Or maybe it was the spicy Bloody Marys at brunch!

We are card-carrying members of the Secret Society of the Shart.

Also, please allow me to take this opportunity to pay tribute to another member of the Society, our friend Cliff. He was be the Best Man at our wedding, but sadly, suddenly passed away the week before of a heart attack. He really enjoyed Poop Report and definitely had sharted.


_______
Piece Out!
Crapola

Piece Out!
Crapola

RoboCrap13's picture
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The group's condolences on the loss of your friend. :(
_______
You have the right to remain Silent but Deadly....

You have the right to remain Silent but Deadly....

Crapola's picture
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Thank you for the condolences.

Yeah, Cliff was a super-pooper.

His wife had a special high-pressure toilet built in the basement to handle his giant un-flushable logs. He was not allowed to use the "nice" bathroom upstairs because he bunged it up a lot.

We also posed with plungers in hand a few years ago, when Dave was looking for photos of PoopReporters wielding them. And this was a giant orange industrial-strength plunger meant to supplement the high-pressure toilet bowl!

In memory if Cliff, I now quote him: "Never Trust a Fart!" Spoken with extensive Shart experience!


_______
Piece Out!
Crapola

Piece Out!
Crapola

ChiefThunderbutt's picture
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I have a friend who says that his teenage son does such huge logs his grandparents
will not let him use the bathroom for number two when he visits. He must go out to a tool shed, and shit in a wheelbarrow. His grandpa then takes the turds and buries them. RIP big turds.

_______
Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door you're on!

Anonymous Coward's picture
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taint- region between balls and ass-translation- "it taint your balls and it taint your ass!"

daphne's picture
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Jesus, that's funny. Thank you for the explanation.


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

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

Andy's picture
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Awesome story, mate!

I always knew that I wasn't alone in this place I feel so foreign in.

Power to the Sharters!!!

p.s I've only done it twice since I became an "adult"

RoboCrap13's picture
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I had a buddy who sharted during a game of "Pull My Finger".
I pulled the finger and heard the sludge drop. Then I grabbed his wrist, yanked him across the room, and introduced him to a group of drunk ladies.
The only time I've ever seen him run away from drunken women wanting sex...
_______
You have the right to remain Silent but Deadly....

You have the right to remain Silent but Deadly....

sittingpretty's picture
Comment Quality Moderatori 2000+ points
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It never fails. As soon as I have washed the bed linen in cluding the mattress pad, I have a small incontinent squirt of shart in the bed when I think its just a fart.

...And their flesh like dung. Zeph. 1:17

prarie doggin's picture
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SP, try tricking your ass by removing the sheets and putting the same ones back on. After the shart, put the clean ones on. Your ass is not that smart.

sittingpretty's picture
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Today is the day I change the sheets. Last night I drizzled my draws with shart, again. It didn't get on the sheets. The shart never gets on the sheets when they're at the end of the weekly cycle. Nope, that would make it too easy. God, I hate the pad under my butt. It's so hot! Heal my twisted and spastic colon and stop the incontinence. Thank you, Jesus Amen!

...And their flesh like dung. Zeph. 1:17

sittingpretty's picture
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PD, yeah...so easy to say, not so easy to do. The dirty sheets get washed straight from the bed. I will put the dreaded pad on when I change them lator. I took the pad off because I wasn't sharting and the pad is hot and bunches up. It's very troublesome. I'm too young for this.

...And their flesh like dung. Zeph. 1:17

sittingpretty's picture
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I like your name Thomasina Titt. Is it a metaphor for any poop related dangling poopticiple?

...And their flesh like dung. Zeph. 1:17

Anonymous Coward who has not signed up yet but who will now!'s picture
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Sharting during sex... I'm not alone! I've done it once - it's awful not only in the aroma department, but the ego department too.

Doesn't matter how long IT is; you shart during sex and there's not too much you can do. Laugh and clean it up.

Oh and Motrin doesn't help.

tillemstsuj's picture
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After nearly crying from laughing so hard at these stories and comments I had to join! Who doesn't love poop stories?!

MSG's picture
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I have sharted a few times, the most recent of which was a month or so ago when I was suffering through what seemed like an IBS attack. I was driving to work (30 miles) and started feeling the urge soon after I started. It felt imminent and wet, but also gassy. Just as I pulled into the parking lot (rapidly), I involuntarily farted--plus. This was just as I was arriving at work, so I figured it could be a long day. I got to the nearest toilet, dropped trou without bothering with any doors, and blasted off. I checked my underpants--no poop! Apparently I had squoze my cheeks tightly enough to keep the wet stuff between them, though I could certainly feel it on the way in. Not pleasant. I cleaned well enough to avoid The Itch.

JonBoy's picture
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"Live to shart, shart to live..."

Anonymous Coward's picture
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sharting sucks. but heck if it unites us as the human race, SHART ON MY FRIENDS

-anna

kidsensation23's picture
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As someone who has not only sharted, but sharted inside a home on the National Historic Register (and then again in the car on the way back to the hotel) I feel your pain and discomfort. There is no shame in sponge bathing out of a toilet.

pooperscooper5000's picture
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im always sharting... i think its my diet, mostly mcdonalds, beer, hot peppers, and ice cream.....
:o)
any one ever sharted getting there hair done at the salon????
very enbaressing

Anonymous Coward's picture
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First, you're a better man for the trial and tribulation you went through.

Second, I think it could be avoided in the future...any time you have a potential fart coming that is presupposed by a gutteral rumble, patience becomes critical. A rumble indicates something volumous enough that either way, you don't want to force it. If the fart is meant to be, it will come into the world in its own time in all its' odorous glory. If you force it you will not be prepared for any unexpected debris or anything else that would require the proper facilities.

ChiliKahKah's picture
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There are two types of people, those that have sharted and those that will shart.

disco debris's picture
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I was terribly excited to go disco rollerskating with a few close friends and my boyfriend, but the day ending up shitty, pun fully intended. My boyfriend and I were fully attired, I was in a pair of green dolphon shorts, white halter and a pair of tight nylons. We stopped for a bite in the parkinglot of some miscelanious fast food resteraunt, and near the end of the meal I was feeling rather full, and decided to make a bit more room. So I lean to the side for what I was expecting to be a hilarious fart, instead I was mortified as an unexplainable rush poured under me. My boyfriend, still unaware, asks me, you makin room? (He knows me so well) and I, poop pants faced had to explain to him, I had just pooped my pants. Now I imagine he was laughing inside but knew better than to giggle at this, asks me what to do, as he tries not to make faces due to the fowl odor. I ofcourse make him exit the car and decide to put on a pair of sweatpants I had in the back (thank god!) and go bowleggedly into the resteraunt. Lucky for me it was a single toilet locking bathroom, which I immediately misused im sure by peeling the soaked nylons and shorts off, washing them frantically in the sink and drying with the hand drier. Needless to say the rest of the day was spent with the knowlege that I, at 22 years of age had pooped my pants infront of my signifigant other.

Bidet pooper's picture
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Just after reading all that I sharted, or it might not count… I have been a bit constipated for a couple of days, an my usual bedtime routine includes a visit to the bidet (greatest ever invention) anyway I'm sat as usual having a wash when I realise I would quite like to fart, having just been Reading about sharts I thought I'd make a quick trip 2feet to the toilet but to no avail the warm bidet water had relaxed my spinchter just enough that the fart slid out accompanied by three days worth of poop, would this count as a shart?
Bloody horrid cleaning the bidet.

Bilgepump's picture
Comment Quality Moderatorh 3000+ points
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Sorry, Bidet pooper, what you experienced was a full blown dump....a shart is a small squirt accompanying the gas.

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Lacy W's picture
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I haven't sharted yet. I hope I don't ever have to go through that but I'm sure it will happen. It sounds horrible.. But my problem is having the explosive poops. WHY does it have to be loud. And I try so hard to keep it quiet and eventually give up and just turn water on or the radio.

Shitzalotamus's picture
m 1+ points - Newb
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lmao Chiefthunderbutt's commentary always cracks me up. "Chocolate slush puppy".

What a horrific and traumatizing experience. I hope the father who was teaching his son how to poop reads this and feels shame over not allowing you to use the stall. I'd have mixed feelings about letting my sons toilet training commence in a fast food restaurant. Souse the toilet with purell before letting my child sit.

Anonymous's picture
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The funniest internet page I have ever seen!