Aces High Bulletin Board
General Forums => The O' Club => Topic started by: Russian on January 24, 2002, 01:32:41 PM
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(Pasting this from Email I got, you peeps might fine this intrestent)
It Came from Both Ends
Now, I am aware that a small number of things are perhaps sheer fabrication, but I have a story to tell that is the absolute truth. Funniest damn thing that has ever happened to me. A couple of weeks ago we decided to cruise out to Ryan's Steakhouse for dinner. It was a Wednesday night which
means that macaroni and beef was on the hot bar, indeed the only night of the week that it is served. Wednesday night is also kid's night at Ryan's, complete with Dizzy the Clown wandering from table to table entertaining the little tykes. It may seem that the events about to be told have little connection to those two circumstances, but all will be clear in a moment.
We went through the line and placed our orders for the all-you-
can-eat hot bar then sat down as far away from the front of the restaurant as possible in order to keep the density of kids down a bit. Then I started my move to the hot bar. Plate after plate of macaroni and beef were consumed that evening, I tell you -- in all, four heaping plates of the pseudo-Italian ambrosia were shoved into my belly. I was sated. Perhaps a bit too much,
however. I had not really been feeling well all day, what with
a bit of gas and such. By the time I had eaten four overwhelming plates of food, I was in real trouble. There was so much pressure on my diaphragm that I was having trouble breathing. At the same time, the downward pressure was building.
At first, I thought it was only gas which could have been passed
in batches right at the table without to much concern. Unfortunately, that was not to be.
After a minute or so it was clear that I was dealing with explosive
diarrhea. It's amazing how grease can make its way through your intestines far faster than the food which spawned the grease to begin with, but I digress... I got up from the table and made my way to the bathroom. Upon
entering, I saw two sinks immediately inside the door, two urinals just to the right of the sinks, and two toilet stalls against the back wall. One of them was a handicapped bathroom. Now, normally I would have gone to the handicapped stall since I like to stretch out a bit when I take a good toejam, but in this case, the door lock was broken and the only thing I hate worse than my wife telling me to stop cutting my toenails with a pair of diagonal
wire cutters is having someone walk in on me while I am taking
a toejam. I went to the normal stall. In retrospect, I probably should have gone to the large, handicapped stall even though the door would not lock because that bit of time lost in making the stall switch proved to be a bit too long under the circumstances.
By the time I had walked into the regular stall, the pressure
on my bellybutton was reaching Biblical proportions. I began "The Move". For those women who may be reading this, let me take a moment to explain "The Move." Men know exactly what their bowels are up to at any given second. And when the time comes to empty the cache, a sequence of physiological events occur that can
not be stopped under any circumstances. There is a move men make that involves simultaneously approaching the toilet, beginning the body turn to position ones bellybutton toward said toilet, hooking ones fingers into ones waistline, and pulling down the pants while beginning the squat at the same time. It is a very fluid motion that, when performed properly,results in
the flawless expulsion of toejam at the exact same second that ones bellybutton is properly placed on the toilet seat. Done properly, it even assures that the choad is properly inserted into the front rim of the toilet in the event that the piss stream lets loose at the same time; it is truly a picture of coordination rivaling that of a skilled ballet dancer.
I was about half-way into "The Move" when I looked down at the floor and saw a pile of vomit that had been previously expelled by one of those little kids attending kids night; it was mounded up in the corner so I did not notice it when I had first walked into the stall. Normally, I would not have been bothered by such a thing, but I had eaten so much and the pressure
upward was so intense, that I hit a rarely experienced gag reflex.
And once that reflex started, combined with the intense pressure upward caused by the bloated stomach, four plates of macaroni and beef started coming up for a rematch. What happened next was so quick that the exact sequence of events
are a bit fuzzy, but I will try to reconstruct them as best I
can. In that moment of impending projectile vomiting, my attention was diverted from the goings-on at the other end. To put a freeze frame on the situation,I was half crotched down to the toilet, pants pulled down to my knees, with a load of vomit coming up my esophagus. Now, most of you know that vomiting
takes precedence over toejam no matter what is about to come slamming out of your ass. It is apparently an evolutionary thing since toejamting will not kill you, but vomiting takes a presence of mind to accomplish so that you do not aspirate any food into the bronchial tubes and perhaps choke to death. My attention was thus diverted.
At that very split second, my bellybutton exploded in what can only be
described as a wake...you know, as in a newspaper headline along the lines of "30,000 Killed In Wake of Typhoon Fifi" or something similar. In what seemed to be most suitably measured in cubic feet, an enormous plug of toejam the consistency of thick mud with embedded pockets of greasy liquid came
flying out of my ass. But remember, I was only half-way down on the toilet at that moment. The toejam wave was of such force and of just such an angle in relation to the back curve of the toilet seat that it ricocheted off the back of the seat and slammed into the wall at an angle of incidence equal to the angle at which it initially hit the toilet seat. Then I sat down. Recall that when that event occurred, I was already half-way to sitting anyway and
had actually reached the point of no return. I have always considered myself as relatively stable gravitationally, but when you get beyond a certain point, you're going down no matter how limber you may be. Needless to say, the toejam wave, though of considerable force, was not so sufficient so as to completely glance off the toilet seat and deposit itself on the walls,
unlike what you would see when hitting a puddle with a high-pressure water hose; even though you throw water at the puddle, the puddle gets moved and no water is left to re-form a puddle. There was a significant amount of toejam remaining on about one-third of the seat rim which I had now just collapsed
upon.
Now, back to the vomit...
While all the toejamting was going on, the vomit was still on its
way up. By the time I had actually collapsed on the toilet, my mouth had filled up with a goodly portion of the macaroni and beef I had just consumed. OK, so what
does the human body instinctively do when vomiting? One bends
over. So I bent over. I was still sitting on the toilet, though. Therefore, bending over resulted in me placing my head above my now slightly-opened legs, positioned in between my knees and waist. Also directly above my pants which were now pulled down to a point just midway between my knees and my
ankles. Oh, did I mention that I was wearing not just pants, but sweat pants with elastic on the ankles? In one mighty push, some three pounds of macaroni and beef, two or three Cokes, and a couple of Big, Fat Yeast Rolls were deposited in my pants...on the inside...with no ready exit at the bottom
down by my feet. In the next several seconds, there were a handful of farts, a couple of turds, and the event ended, yet I was now sitting there with my pants full of vomit, my back covered in toejam that had bounced off the toilet, spattered
on three ceramic-tiled walls to a height of about five feet, and
still had enough force to come back at me, covering the back of my shirt with droplets of liquid toejam. All while thick toejam was spread all over my bellybutton in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat. And there was no f****** toilet paper. What could I do but laugh. I must have sounded like a complete maniac
to the guy who then wandered into the bathroom. He actually asked if I was OK since I was laughing so hard I must have sounded like I was crying hysterically.
(Finish is in next message)
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I calmed down just enough to ask him if he would get the
manager. And told him to have the manager bring some toilet paper. When the manager walked in, he brought the toilet paper with him, but in no way was prepared for what happened next. I simply told him that there was no way I was going to explain what was happening in the stall, but that I needed several wet towels and I needed him to go ask my wife to come help me. I
told him where we were sitting and he left.
At that point, I think he was probably assuming that I had pissed
just a bit in my pants or something similarly benign. About two minutes later, my wife came into the bathroom not knowing what was wrong and with a certain amount of worry in her voice. I explained to her (still laughing and having trouble getting out words) that I had a slight accident and needed her help.
Knowing that I had experienced some close calls in the past, she probably assumed that I had laid down a small turd or something and just needed to bring the car around so we could bolt immediately. Until I asked her, I'm sure she had no idea that she was about to go across the street and purchase me new
underwear, new socks, new pants, a new shirt, and (by that time due to considerable leakage around the elastic ankles thingies) new sneakers. And she then started to laugh herself since I was still laughing. She began to ask for an explanation as to what had happened when I promised her that I would tell her later, but that I just needed to handle damage control for
the time being. She left. The manager then came back in with a half-dozen wet towels and a few dry ones. I asked him to also bring a mop and bucket upon which he assured me that they would clean up anything that needed to be cleaned. Without
giving him specific details, I explained that what was going on in that stall that night was far in excess of what I would expect anyone to deal with, what with most of the folks working at Ryan's making minimum wage or just slightly above. At that moment, I think it dawned on him exactly the
gravity of the situation. Then that manager went so far above the call of duty that I will be eternally grateful for his actions. He hooked up a hose. Fortunately, commercial bathrooms are constructed with tile walls and tile floors and have a drain in the middle of the room in order to make clean up easy. Fortunately, I was in a commercial bathroom. He hooked up the hose to the spigot located under the sink as I began cleaning myself up with the wet towels. Just as I was finishing, my wife got back with the new clothes and passed them into the stall, whereupon I stuffed the previously worn clothing into the plastic bag that came from the store, handing the bag to my wife. I finished cleaning myself off and carefully put on my new clothes,still stuck in the stall since I figured that it would be in bad taste to go out of the stall to get redressed in the event I happened to be standing there naked and some little kid walked in. At that point, I had only made a mess; I had not yet committed a felony and intended to keep
it that way.
When I finished getting dressed, I picked up the hose and cleaned up the entire stall, washing down the remains toward the drain in the center of
the room. I put down the hose and walked out of the bathroom. I had intended to go to the manager and thank him for all he had done, but when I walked out, three of the management staff were there to greet me with a standing ovation. I started laughing so hard that I thought I was going
to throw up again, but managed to scurry out to the car where my wife was now waiting to pick me up by the front door. The upshot of all this is that I strongly recommend eating dinner at Ryan's Steak House. They have, by far, the nicest management staff of any restaurant in which I have eaten.
(Edited due to request)
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I do not think I have laughed so hard in a very long time.
That was just hilarious.
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ROFLMAO
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LOL that's gotta suck. The worst I ever did was puke all over a dance floor at a club. :)
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It started out funny, but the amount of time the guy spent describing the mechanics of taking a dump, left me kinda wondering. I quit reading halfway down. Lose all the frigging >>>>> next time. I can't stand forwarded emails.
That is all.
:)
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Originally posted by Raubvogel
LOL that's gotta suck. The worst I ever did was puke all over a dance floor at a club. :)
Real men swallow their vomit.
:p
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Heh ... I was wating lunch straight off the "gut wagon" that conveniently drives by at noon while I was reading this. I have to admit at a few points I had to swallow a bit of lunch that madeits way up...:) All the while I'm laughing at the post and my co-workers are looking strangely at me knowing I'm doing anything but working.
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Originally posted by hblair
Real men swallow their vomit.
:p
Not when it's several quarts of mixed alchohols moving at Mach 2 ;)
My first duty assignment was to a rather dubious unit in Germany. It seemed more frat house than military...part of their acceptance ritual was to have you drink a champagne bucket full of about 20 different alcohols. I thought I'd be really cool and drink 2 of em. I wasn't so cool about 30 minutes later when it all came back up with the force of a fire hose all over the dance floor hehe. Ahhh...good times, good times...
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ROFLMAD!!! Russian your my hero now, i really needed to laugh, i feel like an new person now
:)
LOL that's gotta suck. The worst I ever did was puke all over a dance floor at a club.
Been that done that hehe!!
Real men swallow their vomit.
Been that done that :D
Well my worst experiance was puking under the table (while sitting at it) at an restaurant/bar, i djust put my forehead against the edge of the table and then let it rip,
I guess i dont have to say that i was wasted out of my mind and when my friends reminded me about it about 15 mins later i had even forgotten that i did it lol! i was not proud the day after but toejam happens!
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Originally posted by Maniac
Well my worst experiance was puking under the table (while sitting at it) at an restaurant/bar, i djust put my forehead against the edge of the table and then let it rip,
[/B]
Hehe, I've done that too. Thanks alot for reminding me of it :D
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Oh my Cod that was funny!
The funniest puke I ever saw:
Was with a friend partying in Downtown LA (He went to USC). At that time Tommy's was the only all night burger place around, and it's world famous for its chili cheeseburger. Back in the 70's there was a line always coming out the door, and it was just as long at 3:00am as any other time. So we are wasted as can be and with the munchy attack from hell, ate 2 chili cheeseburgers and proceded to leave..................my friend waited until we were dead center of the line of people waiting to get in, to let loose the most disgusting vomit I have ever seen. I'm sure we shortened the line some that night.
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Friend of mine and I on an airliner with 4 hours left in flight and he started to get up to the bathroom every half hour or so.
On returning from his 3rd "trip" he opened the overhead compartment, shuffled through his stuff, put some things on his backpack, and sat down on the chair with his backpack on his lap.
Sure enough, 30 mins later he had to "go" again. This time with his backpack.
This went on for the whole trip.
When we touched down, he spent another 20 mins in the bathroom.
He's the nervous flyer kind, and I knew that, so I thought he was having nervous digestive stuff.. you know, people get gas or have to take leaks a lot more when they're very nervous kinda thing.
On the ground he was much calmer.
What really got me curious was that he wanted to go to the nearest mall the moment we left the airport. Pretty weird, but we went anyway.
He bought 12 underwear pants.
I had to ask him wtf all this was about. Very ashamed, he just said "I left my old ones in the airplane".
I looked at his backpack, back at him.. he was so embarrased he couldnt do anything but laugh.
:)
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Well I had a squaddie puke in the Con Room :)
Another buddy once puked and urinated in an elevator while laughing maniacally. For laughs we still recite the words of the girl who walked into the elevator in mid-piss.
Oh my GOD he's Urinating in the Elevator!
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I cant begin to tell you how many great memorys this thread brought back to me :)
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Bodily fluid humor is the best. :)
My uncle is an ER nurse, and I wish he could tell some stories on this board. :)
My other uncle is a highway patrolman. I remember a couple of stories he told us.
1. Truckers on a stretch of rural highway reported a man driving with something white moving around on his lap and causing him to swerve. My uncle responded and pulled the man over. The thing on his lap was a dead chicken. The chicken was uhh attached to the man's lap.
2. In the dead of winter he pulled over a car carrying two very drunk men. The driver was scared but the passenger was belligerent. My uncle told the passenger to stay in the car and had the driver step out of his car and gave him a sobriety test. The passenger got out of the car and started cursing and urinating in the snow. My uncle told him to get back inside and he did. But a few seconds later he got out of the car again, complaining that he was thirsty. So my uncle called for a backup car.
The backup arrived, my uncle cuffed the driver and put him in the back seat, then both officers went to subdue the passenger. The passenger had picked up piece of ice to slake his thirst and wouldn't let it go. They were about to get rough with him when they noticed something. The backup officer told the man, "Look at your ice." The man stopped sucking on the ice, pulled it from his mouth, and saw that it was bright yellow. Then he fell to his knees and vomited. He didn't put up much of a fight after that.
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I had a friend come over foir a halloween party. He was having marital problems at the time and the first thing he did was down half a bottle of rye straight from the bottle.
He then had a couple of mixed drinks. We were outside about 20 mins later and sitting around the fire when he performed an excellent rendition of the Exorcist. The spray landed in the fire and it actually went Phooomf! Not a huge burst of flame but that fire didn't sizzle it got brighter.
I was wrecked at the time too and it was one of the finniest backyard firepit moments I've ever had :-)
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At a party(of course), we were eating fresh shucked oysters off the shell. I always put lots of Tabasco and horseradish on them, and the proper method of ingestion is to suck them from the lip of the shell. On this particular oyster, a big ol' two biter, I sucked, but I got the horseradish fumes and the Tabasco down into my lungs first, causing me to expell the 1/4 pound oyster at a high rate of speed. It impacted the forehead of the lovely young thing that was across the bar, shucking the oysters, and stuck for a second before dribbling down her face and disappearing into her blouse.
She left the party.
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Originally posted by Gadfly
At a party(of course), we were eating fresh shucked oysters off the shell. I always put lots of Tabasco and horseradish on them, and the proper method of ingestion is to suck them from the lip of the shell. On this particular oyster, a big ol' two biter, I sucked, but I got the horseradish fumes and the Tabasco down into my lungs first, causing me to expell the 1/4 pound oyster at a high rate of speed. It impacted the forehead of the lovely young thing that was across the bar, shucking the oysters, and stuck for a second before dribbling down her face and disappearing into her blouse.
She left the party.
hahaha...good one Gadfly, that reminded me of one of the funniest things I've ever seen.
I was at a party at "The Defender's Den" at Kunsan AB, Korea back in 1993 (maybe 94). I think it was someones promotion party but the place was packed with people. I had noticed one of the guys I worked across the room standing there talking to some other fellow, face to face and fairly close due to the number of people packed into the place. I decided to go say high and as I was approaching them, the guy I know absolutely out of NOWHERE projectile vomited right into the face of the other guy. At first I was shocked....then by looking at the confused expression on my buds face I could tell that he had absolutely no idea why he'd just "ralphed". Meanwhile the other poor dude is screaming and running towards the latrine while trying to rub the scortching mix of whiskey and stomach acid out of his eyes. Laughing that hard is agonizing!
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Originally posted by hblair
Real men swallow their vomit.
:p
I've found that if you believe that possibility of vomiting up that alcohol is imminent, it's best to eat a Snickers first.
The Snickers bar tastes the same all three times... down... up and down again.
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I gotta stop reading this thread at work:D :eek:
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Just a small bump, for those that have not read this yet.
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that's just sick.
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:eek: :eek: :eek: whoa!!! I don't care WHO I was with.. If that happened to me I would bolt out of that place like a bat out of hell. THE most embarrassing thing I have ever read... wow! :D :D :eek: :D
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There was an soldier once that told a story about when he was in Vietnam of a party that they were at. His buddy started hitting on some chick that had come in with a superior officer, a captain I think it was. The captain saw the soldiers buddy hitting on the girl and went over to chew him out. The captain was quite inebriated and didnt even notice that the soldier, who was also quite drunk, had managed to unizip his pants while standing at attention and was urinating all over the captains pants leg. The soldier that told the story said he grabbed his buddy and rushed him out of there before the captain realized what had happened.
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Hblair, you're a sick man :)
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Just from the looks of it, the resturaunt was questionable at best, but my friends and I were burnt out on all of our regular sources of chinese food so we gave it a try. Tho I knew I would be horrified to look in the kitchen of the place, I found the food to be reasonably tasty and wasn't disappointed that I went there. Unfortunately, shortly after I got home, I started to get that "weird" feeling in my stomach, signaling that something may be on the move in the wrong direction. After about an hour of queeziness, I started to get stomach pains, which soon developed into mild cramps, which graduated into full blown, on my hands and knees, doubled over stomach cramps. I took a Zantac (heartburn/sour stomach med) knowing it wouldn't help but hopeful nonetheless, even though the queeziness had long since left, leaving only the cramps. Finally, around 11pm, I decided that this chinese resturaunt had given me some nasty form of food poisoning or this gut I've been carrying around since shortly after high school actually housed a baby and it was about to be born...either way it was time to seek medical attention.
On to the emergency room, since I don't have a regular doctor and even if I did, he'd surely not be at the office. I end up in an exam room which measures about 11ft x 7ft and after asking several questions, the doc sends the nurse back in to take a blood sample. She assures me she won't take a lot and pulls it out of the back of my hand with a syringe after inserting some sort of device that I can only equate to the fueling boom that comes off the back of a mid-air refuelling tanker. About 1/4 way through the second syringe, she finds that my body ain't gonna give up any more and decided she's got enough anyway. Then she sticks in the line for the saline or whatever was in the bag hanging above me. About the time she pulled the second needle out, I got a huge chill and felt colder than I ever have in my life. I'm guessing I was quite pale too, as she asked me if there was something wrong, and if I was feeling queezy. I said not really, but maybe, so she brought over the big garbage can for me to use if I needed. (I was lying down on a gurney, attached to the saline or whatever bag so a bathroom was probably out of the question).
Seconds after she had that garbage can next to the gurney, I felt the eruption start...the nurse, who surely must have had much experience with this, was immediately cognative of what was about to happen and I swear it took her no less than a second to jump back to the far edge of the exam room. Her quick thinking and action didn't save her. I vomited with a force I didn't realize could come out of my body and sprayed her, the wall, the floor, the gurney, the sink...there were few survivors, as I waited just a few seconds longer than I should have to roll myself over to face the garbage can. Everything was dripping, including her, and I was amazed that she actually asked me if I was OK before dashing off to de-puke herself. The next half hour was spent wondering how I managed such a superhuman feat, if that poor nurse had a good change of cloths and a shower handy, and how that orderly could clean up all that puke without getting ill himself (and so fast!). Plus, it was kind of awkward sitting there while someone you don't know has to clean up your vomit. I did feel quite a bit better tho', so I decided little else mattered. The nurse visited me three more times that evening(early morning), one of which she made me drink some thick, nasty blue toejam and every time she made sure to ask "you aren't gonna puke on me again, are you?". I also saw the doctor one more time...he asked a couple of questions, checked on this and that, then shoved his finger in my bellybutton under the guise of "checking for blood in your stool". I knew that the nurse had surely put him up to it as a way of getting me back and although I can't say I blame her for the spite, I wish she could have found another way to express it.
In the end, I had vomited on a nurse, had a finger shoved up my ass, and was given no clear answer as to what might have caused my pain except "it may be an intestinal virus thingie that's been going around". I went home with a headache and abdominal muscles sore from being used so much (god knows they hadn't seen a situp in a long time), and crashed for a good 10 hour nap.
The moral of the story? Don't eat at questionable Chinese resturaunts, and always remember that mere seconds can mean the difference between a huge sickening mess of vomit and a huge sickening mess of vomit stored neatly in a recepticle.
SOB
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Originally posted by SOB
......In the end, I had vomited on a nurse, had a finger shoved up my ass,.......
SOB
This statement just reminded me of "something". You know, my doctor just happens to be female...and a good looking one at that. Anyway, I recently had an ...err...ahh...examination performed by said doctor. Now, I was presented with what I thought was a really dumb question. Just prior to this exam, as doc was globbing jelly all over her surgical gloved finger...she asked.. "Do you want a male chaperone?" Hmmmmm. I looked her dead in the eye and asked "Has ANY guy EVER asked have another dude come watch you stick your finger in thier butt?" She just giggled and said "bend over".
Am I alone?