All posts tagged: Shart Week

bed, woman, poo

The Story of the Guy Who Crapped in My Bed

I knew he had a girlfriend, but that didn’t stop me from liking him, nor did it discourage me from making out with him at any opportunity. He told me all the old standard lies — she was a bitch, she was crazy, they never had sex anymore and they were pretty much dunzo anyway — and I chose to believe him. Sigh. Yet due to some sort of highly flexible boundary system he had worked out in his head, though we would fool around, we never actually had sex. Because somehow being handsy and mouthy was fine, but actual p-to-v would be cheating. Sigh times a thousand. Maybe it was because I had been single for so long, or dating jerks, or catching a case of the incredibly stupids, this went on for some time. I lost sleep, moaned to my extremely patient friends, and basically acted like a complete asshole. “He’s so nice,” I’d bleat, savoring the little crumbs of affection I’d collect whenever we’d manage a few minutes together. Like every other …

Poop in Pop Culture: Top 10 Moments

It’s alleged that All in the Family was the first series to break ground (or is that wind) and actually flush a toilet during prime time. Since then, potty humor has become a staple of book, movie and TV giggles. Here are 10 of our most memorable poop-culture moments. We’ve even given them “stinky and offensive” ratings to give you fair warning before watching the link. Our #10 was so bad, we couldn’t even link to it. That’s what Google is for people. Did we miss some of your stinky faves? Share them in the comments below! 1. David Sedaris – Big Boy A hilarious tale of the turd that just won’t flush — everyone’s worst nightmare. “The tank refilled, and I made a silent promise. The deal was that if this thing would go away, I’d repay the world by performing some unexpected act of kindness. I flushed the toilet, and the beast spun a lazy circle. “Go on,” I whispered. “Scoot! Shoo!” I claimed a giddy victory, but when I looked back down, …

Rehab Antics: Saved by the Nude Pooper

It was a freezing-cold December and I was trapped in a rehab center in the middle of Wernersville, Pennsylvania. The facility was nice enough, but still, it was WINTER in where-the-hell is WERNERSVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA. I had already been to two 30-day inpatient programs and relapsed, so clearly there was something I wasn’t getting. But I was still horrified when faced with the fact that I had been recommended for “extended care.” Thirty days was one thing — 90 more on top of that seemed INSANE. In hindsight, it was the best decision I ever made. I needed that time to really understand how sick I was and how much work was involved if I truly wanted to stay sober. But I wasn’t happy about it at the time. None of us were — quite a few of the friends that I made in primary care were subjected to the same fate, and we were all terrified of what the next three months had in store for us. Would torture be a part of this new phase of …

Why Poop Has No Place On Social Media

When I started STFU Parents, a user-submission-based website highlighting “parental overshare,” I didn’t realize that I was signing up to look at so much shit. Literally. At the time, my definition of “oversharing” did include mannerly updates about potty training, but never in my wildest nightmares did I think parents would post pictures of their children’s actual fecal matter — or long-winded descriptions of said fecal matter — on Facebook. Having been aware of the explosion of “mommy blogs” at the time, I figured if you wanted to post about your child’s diarrhea, you’d probably do so on a personal blog rather than blast a digital telegram to your friends, relatives, neighbors, former teachers, and bosses. Boy, was I naive. I quickly discovered that many parents are delighted by their kids’ poop and think that all of their friends actually care. I filed away hundreds of these submissions in a folder titled “Bathroom Behavior,” and over time I began noticing bizarre patterns. I created sub-folders for various topics pertaining to children’s poop, such as “painting with poop,” …

When Having a Colonoscopy Feels Like a Vacation

Don’t get me wrong. I was dreading my colonoscopy, for obvious reasons. But in the back of my mind I kept thinking, “How bad could it be? Katie Couric had one done on national TV! Although I am seven years shy of the recommended age of 50 for getting a baseline colonoscopy, I scheduled the procedure for two reasons. One, I have a family history of rogue colon cells, and two, my college BFF was recently diagnosed with stage II colon cancer. (She now has a clean bill of health, I’m so happy to report.) So I took my cues from the universe — and my mother’s GI doctor — and made an appointment for a Friday in mid-August. [pullquote]Mom said she’d make me some Jello and that she’d just bought the second season of Homeland on DVD. Call me crazy, but it sounded a little bit like heaven.[/pullquote] It’s true — on a day when most Americans had planned either a vacation or at least a long weekend at the beach, I opted for …

You, Unplugged: 6 Steps to Healthy Bowels

I’ve always been prone to painful poops. Growing up, my mom gave me tall glasses of prune juice to get things moving. By the time I was a teen, I popped Correctol any time my movements slowed down. Even into adulthood, romantic getaways and weeklong vacations created a digestive gridlock that rivaled LA freeways during rush hour. But it wasn’t until I was pregnant with twin boys that severe constipation, complete with bloating, cramps and excruciating pain, consumed my life. Surging pregnancy hormones relaxed my muscles (including my bowels). Add to that a daily iron supplement to compensate for anemia, myriad constipating meds to manage pre-term labor and immobility due to physician-prescribed bed rest. My gut became a waste product traffic jam. Unfortunately, advice for how to unplug isn’t exactly clear-cut. The doc told me to load up on fruits, vegetables and whole grains without explaining that certain foods within those categories can exacerbate the pain (think bananas, apples and potatoes). Granted, my case was extreme — I took twice daily stool softeners to keep …

Witchy Poo: A Cautionary Tale

One Halloween, when I was about 11, my Mom sewed me a killer witch costume: floppy, pointy hat, black cape and all.  I looked awesome and fearsome. The year marked one of the first times we kids could go door-to-door by ourselves. Yes, at 11 years old. These days? No way. This was maybe five years before the razor-blades-in-apples scare (which was so not even a thing.) Gathering up my friends Anne, Kathy and several others, we prepared to become sugar terrors in the quiet, preppy neighborhood of Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia. Our aim was to get as much candy as we possibly could. We were unleashed by ourselves, no parental supervision. We OWNED this damn Halloween. So without any sense of boundaries or discretion, we’d knock on our neighbors’ doors, reach into the giant bowls of wrappers, and lunge at the pile of candy like ravenous baby bears. Maybe we were more polite and choosy than that, but I’m pretty sure we were bloodthirsty. I kept an eye out for my favorites: the long since …