Gut Rumbles

February 15, 2006

a crap tale

I think it was the spring of 1977. I was playing guitar for a living and Recondo 32 was attending some kind of basket-weaving classes at the University of Georgia so that he could milk the GI Bill for all it was worth. He and his lovely wife Georgia came home to Savannah at the end of the Winter Quarter to visit with friends and family.

Recondo needed to return to Athens for his last final exam on a Tuesday, and he asked me to give him a ride. I had Monday off, I was still familiar with all the good watering-holes in Athens and I had nothing better to do, so I agreed. I planned to go on Monday, get drunk and spend the night in Athens. I could make it back home in time to play Tuesday night.

We piled into my 1974 Vega and headed off for adventure. The weather was warm, so I was dressed in a tee-shirt, running shoes and a pair of Bill Rodgers satin jogging shorts that resembled a loin cloth, the better to display my sexy, muscular legs.

The shorts had no pockets, so I stuck my wallet in the elastic waistband, in the back where my wallet rode safe and secure, just above my asscrack. I wore no underwear (this fact is important). We stopped for beer and gas somewhere along the way, at a convenience store that sold Polish sausages the size of donkey dicks.

Those sausages turned slowly on a rotating grill behind a glass window and smelled wonderful as they sizzled and sweated globs of grease. I was hungry, so I bought one. I ate that sucker in about three bites and washed it down with cold beer.

I must not have chewed that thing sufficiently to fully subdue it in my belly. A few miles down the road, that sausage began to percolate and mortify as it combined with beer and my digestive juices to produce some fascinating noises and a few farts of world-class quality. Recondo cursed mightily with his head out the window a few times. I was proud of myself.

Before we arrived in Athens, I stopped farting because I felt something other than gas attempting to escape my anus. I knew what it was. Past experience had taught me the signs of a Sneaking Turd, that wiley dungwad that poses as a fart and fools you into shitting your pants.

I wasn't falling for THAT trick again, so I clenched my asscheeks and held on grimly all the way to Athens. By the time we arrived at Recondo's place, I was growing desperate and my clench-muscles were beginning to fail. As soon as he unlocked the front door, I duck-waddled as quickly as I could to the bathroom to relieve my anxiety.

I heard a plop! as I half-masted my jogging shorts and besat the throne, but I didn't think anything about that noise. I was simply delighted that I had reached the pooper in the nick of time. A foul eruption of beer, Polish sausage and other semi-digested detritus spewed from my bowels. The stench was horrible, but the relief was exquisite. Oh man, that felt GOOD.

When I was finished, I turned to look in the toilet before I flushed. (Do YOU do that? Y'know... admire your stool, check for worms or just make sure that you didn't blow your asshole off after a most excellent crap expulsion?) I'm glad I did, too, because I suddenly realized what made that plop! when I first sat astride the stone pony.

It was my wallet.

Yep, in my desperation I had forgotten all about my wallet being in the back waistband of my pants. It had fallen into the toilet and I had buried that sucker in sausage-shit.

I have seen many terrible things in my life, but that sight still ranks among the worst. Worst EVER. One lonely corner of my wallet, like the tired hand of a swimmer going down for the third time and praying for rescue, stuck just above the cess and the mess. I had no choice but to fish it out.

You can talk about "filthy lucre" all you want to, but I have SEEN it with mine own eyes. I will not regale you with the details of what I did next, but let's just say that the bathroom sink and a lot of soap and water were involved. So was a mighty test of my gag reflex.

In the end, I saved my wallet and the money in it. I also spared my dignity by never telling Recondo what I had done. In fact, the only reason I'm telling the story NOW is because I want to win this contest foul and square.

I AM the Crap-Daddy!



That's the best written tale of this sort I have read in a very long time.

Posted by: Rimfirejones on February 15, 2006 12:09 PM

Now I was going to vote for 365 but this story has swayed my vote. You are the crap daddy

Posted by: matt on February 15, 2006 12:24 PM

Well, I've voted for you ten or twelve times. Just because I personally don't WANT to be the king, In fact, I was hoping to avoid getting any votes at all. You, on the other hand, deserve the title, as is evidenced by the writing above.

Posted by: og on February 15, 2006 12:34 PM

Hands down.
All hail THE Crap Daddy!
Good lord, Rob.

Posted by: Lil Toni on February 15, 2006 12:40 PM

Yes, Rob - You ARE the Crap-Daddy. Results have been posted...

And in case there was any doubt, you just silenced any skeptics out there.

Posted by: Elisson on February 15, 2006 12:52 PM

Awesome. You definitely are the Crap-daddy.

Posted by: Jim -PRS on February 15, 2006 01:50 PM

... yes, yes... you are.. you certainly are....

Posted by: Eric on February 15, 2006 02:50 PM

Down goes V-man, down goes Jim, etc., etc.

You are the master.

Posted by: Deliverance on February 15, 2006 03:24 PM

I will not be responding to any more posts today as I have just laughed hard enough to ASPIRATE my morning coffee! LOL!
When will I learn to read you AFTER the coffee is done! : D

Posted by: A Different Kim on February 15, 2006 03:32 PM

All hail Kingshit....

Posted by: Lisa on February 15, 2006 03:48 PM


Posted by: Maeve on February 15, 2006 04:47 PM

Fuckin' sweet.

Posted by: rightisright on February 15, 2006 05:09 PM

Damn good story!

The only time I came close to that experience was when a belt clip on a pager broke while I was whizzing , and the gizmo went swimming.

Short version of the conclusion? Nasty public toilet, company-owned pager, I walked away, never looking back!

Posted by: El Capitan on February 15, 2006 06:01 PM

Thanks for the belly laugh, Rob. That's frickin' hysterical!!!

Posted by: the other Steph on February 15, 2006 06:07 PM

Everybody gotta be King of somethin'.

Posted by: TomCat on February 15, 2006 06:53 PM

You da MAN! The others might as well just cede because this one cannot be topped unless they admit to eatin' ....

Posted by: GUYK on February 15, 2006 07:03 PM

A wise person once told me, "never deny an ass-cramp".

I did it again last night because I was too busy and did not want to be bothered - no shit I am like ten paces from the commode, so I should have gotten up...instead I shit my pants when I thought "I really should get up now".

There have been other times, and I shotgunned a bathroom wall before as I lifted the lid. I'd get a butt-plug if I thought I wouldn't explode (and yeah I've held a match too close just to see a fart blast, very cool).

Great story.


Posted by: LCO on February 15, 2006 08:50 PM


Oh god I did not see that one coming. Lends new meaning to the phrase, "Oh, shit."

Posted by: Cythen on February 16, 2006 01:53 AM

I can't believe you had a 74 Vega and ADMIT it!

Posted by: Florida Bill on February 16, 2006 10:45 AM

FOLLOW-UP: I printed this post, took it to work and had my fellow co-workers HOWLING! Thanks for the laugh!

Posted by: the other Steph on February 16, 2006 12:18 PM


Posted by: disconnect on February 16, 2006 04:20 PM
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