Electrolicious

13 Responses to “Gmail & Poo”

1. erica
   June 17th, 2004 at 6:27 am

   

   i’d LOVE a gmail account, so here goes a story about poo.

   When I first got my dog I was in the fifth grade and was a really geeky fifth grader. My best friend and I used to say two things when we would arrive at my house, not knowing if the dog would have gone to the bathroom in the kitchen while we were gone. We would either sing, very loudly, “We’re walking on poopshine, oh-ho…and it doesn’t feel good HEY!” if we thought there was going to be poo all over the kitchen, or we would dance around nerdily just chanting/singing “Hamburger mush! Hamburger mush!” because that is what would happen to the poo if the dog poo’d right by the door and we opened it. It would look like hamburger mush. We never knew what delightful poo situation we were going to get.

   thankyouverymuch.
   I’m sorry to have insulted any Katrina and the Waves fans.

2. sharon
   June 17th, 2004 at 6:49 am

   

   I used to have this dog named Shu-Shu. She was the cutest little shih-tzu! It was maybe her 3rd or 4th Christmas and she discovered the tinsel on the Christmas tree. Apparently she liked the way it tasted as well because one day when I came home from school, the whole bottom of the tree wasn’t sparkly anymore; it was bare. Sitting on the couch was a sick little shih-tzu.

   Eventually the tinsel passed through her system, but not entirely… For the next couple days, I had to watch her butt and if I saw the end of a piece of tinsel, I had to pull it out. Strand by strand. Aside from the smears of poo, the tinsel wasn’t tinsel anymore; it was clear.

   Shu-Shu didn’t like that and neither did I. But a parent has to do what a parent has to do!

3. dave
   June 17th, 2004 at 7:03 am

   

   Last weekend I had to chase my 21-month old son down and take way the cat turd he grabbed from the litter box while I was cleaning it out. The whole time he was running, he was laughing and shouting “booboo!” which is his way of saying “poopoo”. I took him back to the litter box, shook my finger at it, and said “no no!”

   He completely missed the point: he responded by shaking his finger at the litter box and said “no no booboo!”, as though the litter box had done something wrong.

4. Kate the Great
   June 17th, 2004 at 8:51 am

   

   I’d love that Gmail account, so this is my bizarre story about poo. Last year my grandmother needed some carpentry repairs for her ancient back porch. It was done by two workers who were nice enough, but they kept tramping through my grandmother’s house, getting drinks from the refrigerator, using the bathroom, and getting her immaculate floors all dirty. After a few days of this my grandma, who is a sensitive woman to say the least, called their boss and asked that he speak to them about the disturbances.

   I’m not sure what the guy said to his employees, but they stopped bothering her for drinks and bathroom breaks. In fact, she hardly knew they were there. Then, when the workers were leaving one day, one of them helpfully brought to her attention the fact that he had not asked to use the bathroom, even though he had had a #2 emergency earlier in the day. Instead, he wrapped it up and threw it away! When my mother and I heard this story, it was all we could do to stifle our gag reflexes and cautiously poke around my grandma’s backyard, looking for a neatly wrapped parcel of poo. We haven’t found it yet, but it could still be out there.

   To this day I’m trying to figure out why the carpenter told my grandmother about his poop. Was he being passive aggressive? Was he proud of his big load? I’m stumped.

5. blake
   June 17th, 2004 at 10:53 am

   

   This story is true, and it is about me.

   In the Spring of 1996, I was training to be a soldier in the piny woods of North Carolina. I spent many days in camouflage, walking among the trees and through swamps with map and compass, finding my way from one location to the next. Each day, I received two MREs (Meals, Ready to Eat) in thick, brown plastic wrappers. Each MRE had a little “accessory” packet with items such as sugar, instant coffee (yum!), a one-inch bottle of Tabasco and … toilet paper. About 4 sheets of toilet paper. Each day I saved my toilet paper in my upper-left shirt pocket.

   After about five days, I noticed that my chest looked uneven. It was the last day of woodland training. I decided that my stockpile was no longer very important, so I left it in my tent as I went out for the day into the woods.

   On a long walk between two points, I suddenly felt strange, like a cartoon character with a jet pack rumbling and sputtering, building up pressure before blasting into the air. I had never before felt that kind of weight bearing down from inside my own body. Five days of poo decided it wanted to breathe some fresh air.

   I was scared. We had been lectured many times on this trip about “proper procedure” for doing #2. I didn’t have a shovel to dig a hole, much less a scrap of TP to comfort myself. With few options and a crisis before (below?) me, without even looking around, I dropped trou and laid a massive pile of poo.

   At this point, one fact overshadows the rest of my memory. I’m not really sure how I cleaned up, or how long I stood and stared, but when I stepped back and looked at what I had done, I was shocked. It was like someone had poured a bucket of old oatmeal on the ground. Cinnamon and brown sugar oatmeal, thick and warm.

   Somehow, I still eat oatmeal, but I try not to look at it.

6. L
   June 17th, 2004 at 1:37 pm

   

   Yes, like all the others, I want a gmail account.

   This is about a friend of mine. We’ll call her Nina. Nina and another friend Missy went out to a few bars. Nina was driving and proceeded to get extremely drunk. She caused a scene in the bar, nearly got into a fight and had to be carried out by Missy and the bartender. She still drove Missy (who doesn’t have a license) home.

   Once they got there, Missy went inside to go to sleep and Nina passed out in the car. Various things ensued, including Nina pounding on Missy’s door at 3 a.m. because she locked herself out of her car. Finally, Missy left her to her own devices and went to bed.

   Next morning, Missy’s mom called her to the front porch and said “What the fuck is that?” On top of a plastic storage cart (one of those with three drawers) was a big pile of poo! Nina, in her drunken state, had taken a big shit on Missy’s porch. Missy also reported the poo looked sort of smooshed like Nina hadn’t kept her balance very well and probably got her own poo all over herself and her clothes.

   This girl is really pretty and all the boys want her. Yet, she got drunk enough to take a shit on someone’s porch–on top of a storage chest.

7. angelala
   June 17th, 2004 at 3:39 pm

   

   hmmm… poo, you say.

   here’s the best i got:

   1 - i was in the okeefenokee swamp for thanksgiving one year with some friends. you can rent these little motor boats and ride around chekcing out the alligators and the occassional snake. so we went aridin’… all the way to the suwanee river, about 20 minutes away. once we got to the suwanee river i peed… i thought i JUST HAD TO PEE. nope. about 10 minutes into our trip back, amidst all the swampage and lily pads and debris, my bowels started to fight my pooter. it was a contrant struggle to keep the poo-hole shut down and maintain composure as i stressed to my friend driving the boat that he needed to put the pedal to the metal, else the little boat be filled with thr trail mix and biscuits i’d eaten earlier that morning. i hung my ass ovee the boat several times, preparing for what i felt to be the inevitable. somehow, i was able to keep it together until we reached the dock. i ran to the toilet, sat down and of course, could not poop.

   i think this story would be a lot better if i had shat my pants or seriously pooed into the river or perhaps been chased by an alligator as i tried to poop on the banks. sorry, this is all i got!

   does it merit a gmail invite?
   comon. maybe if i sent you a little poo?

8. Ariel
   June 17th, 2004 at 6:25 pm

   

   These stories are GREAT! Everyone who has commented has gotten an invite…I gave away the first five, and then received five more? I seem to have a bottomless well of gmail invites, so if you keep posting poo stories, I’ll keep giving out the invites.

9. Katherine
   June 17th, 2004 at 9:21 pm

   

   THE COLON HULA: For a bowel movement to take place, two things must occur. First, there must be enough fiber so that the waste matter is fluffy and light and airy and buoyant. Next, bile must be secreted into the intestines which stimulates perestalsis, a sort of undulating rumbling roll of the intestines which moves the matter through to the other side. When the two work in tandem: POOP! GLORIOUS POOP! And when all else fails: The Ultimate Cleanse by Nature’s Secret is simply, utterly fabulous . . .

10. Christina
    June 17th, 2004 at 11:25 pm

    

    So funny you should mention poo! I live in Seoul, Korea and I was in the backseat of a cab with a friend of mine (just last night, in fact!) when I caught something big and colorful and sparkly out of the corner of my eye. I got a proper look out the window and lo and behold, two tile mosaic sculptures (the bigger one probably as tall as me) of poo! I used to frequent that neighborhood and never saw them before, so I’m guessing they’re a brand-new installation (fresh deposits?). Anyway, my friend had been having a rough day and the poo got a giggle out of her, so there you go! ^^

    P.S. We’re planning on going back this weekend for photos. Cheers!

11. Linds
    June 18th, 2004 at 1:44 am

    

    I’ve got tons of poo stories but I think my friend’s story takes the cake.

    Every year at Burning Man at he entertains himself by running up to the last port-a-pottie in line just as someone enters, megaphone in hand and yellling in his best Eastern European accent, “THIS IS SCHIZA CONTROL! COME OUT WITH YOUR PANTS DOWN AND YOUR HANDS UP!” hehehe…

12. dori
    June 18th, 2004 at 7:09 am

    

    as if on cue, dooce’s latest is a beauty of a story about poo.

13. Ariel
    June 18th, 2004 at 8:15 am

    

    I appear to be out of invites for the time being. I’ll open comments if more appear.