Case of the Stinky Finger
A fat wedge of turd was halfway out of my butt, too far to go back in and too wide to fall off.
This story is not necessarily a college story as such, but it happened while I was at college, and I assure you it is a most disgusting tale. I'm not sure I want to tell it, but it makes my friends laugh so much that I guess I will.
To fund college, I had to get a part-time job at a video store, which was quite cool as I got free videos and shit for my film course. Anyway, one evening I was working an evening shift and I started to feel really ill. I'd just had an egg sandwich -- I fucking hate egg -- but for some reason I decided to ignore that fact while in the deli. It got so bad that I excused myself to the toilet, as I simply couldn't serve customers anymore.
When I got there I was in a cold sweat, not knowing whether I wanted to puke, or shit, or pee, or what. Now let me just set the scene here. Being the only girl at a video store with a staff of about 20 guys, as a rule I NEVER use the toilet. This communal "staff" toilet never gets cleaned, and some of the guys who use it ... well, lets just say they haven't had a wash in the past year or so. Try imagining the toilet in Trainspotting and you're pretty damn close. There's like mushrooms and mold growing behind it, and the walls are this fetching shade of puke yellow. But, I was desperate.
While on the toilet, it emerged that my problem was constipation. I didn't realize this until it was too late. A fat wedge of turd was halfway out of my butt, too far to go back in and too wide to fall off. It was agony. I sat there for about 20 minutes not knowing what to do. The turd was not gonna budge, and I could hear the guys stomping about outside getting impatient. To make things worse, I had to be really quiet since the cash desk and the toilet were separated by a really thin wall -- everyone would hear what I was doing if I wasn't careful.
I was at my wits' end, close to tears and sweating. I came to the conclusion that the only way I was gonna get it out was by pulling it out. I covered my hand in T.P. and tried to grip it, but the paper kept on tearing and it wouldn't budge. I'd been in there half an hour; I knew if I was there any longer I'd get sacked.
I realized that I had to use my hands and was so repulsed by the prospect. Squeamish at the best of times, shit isn't my favorite thing AT ALL. I thought I was gonna puke, but I was in pain and there wasn't any other way. After poking around for a bit in what felt like wet clay, I managed to pry it free, to my tremendous relief. But, my hand looked like I'd gone crazy with the Nutella.
The washbasin was outside, so I tried to clean it up with paper, but it was all under my nails. I got to the wash basin only to find there was no soap. I was gutted. My hand stank, to put it mildly, and I just felt really dirty. I washed my hands in water for ages, but the smell just wouldn't go away. It didn't even smell like shit, it was much worse than that. It was like in Mallrats where the guy goes on about how you can never get rid of the smell of butt.
I had no choice but to go out and carry on working for the next four hours with a hand that reeked of butt. It was so bad that when I gave customers their change over the counter, I could still smell it. When asked why I'd been gone for almost an hour, I told my manager I'd been sick (preferring to say that than what really happened) and that I was better now. Everyone felt sorry for me, but one guy came up to ask what was wrong ... I told him and his face scrunched up real bad as he obviously smelled it. He thought it was my breath!
I know all this isn't very ladylike -- it's not like I make a habit of it or anything. Hope you all enjoy the story.
-Edinburgh University
BTW: im not a girl and i copied this story i just thought it was hilarious
A fat wedge of turd was halfway out of my butt, too far to go back in and too wide to fall off.
This story is not necessarily a college story as such, but it happened while I was at college, and I assure you it is a most disgusting tale. I'm not sure I want to tell it, but it makes my friends laugh so much that I guess I will.
To fund college, I had to get a part-time job at a video store, which was quite cool as I got free videos and shit for my film course. Anyway, one evening I was working an evening shift and I started to feel really ill. I'd just had an egg sandwich -- I fucking hate egg -- but for some reason I decided to ignore that fact while in the deli. It got so bad that I excused myself to the toilet, as I simply couldn't serve customers anymore.
When I got there I was in a cold sweat, not knowing whether I wanted to puke, or shit, or pee, or what. Now let me just set the scene here. Being the only girl at a video store with a staff of about 20 guys, as a rule I NEVER use the toilet. This communal "staff" toilet never gets cleaned, and some of the guys who use it ... well, lets just say they haven't had a wash in the past year or so. Try imagining the toilet in Trainspotting and you're pretty damn close. There's like mushrooms and mold growing behind it, and the walls are this fetching shade of puke yellow. But, I was desperate.
While on the toilet, it emerged that my problem was constipation. I didn't realize this until it was too late. A fat wedge of turd was halfway out of my butt, too far to go back in and too wide to fall off. It was agony. I sat there for about 20 minutes not knowing what to do. The turd was not gonna budge, and I could hear the guys stomping about outside getting impatient. To make things worse, I had to be really quiet since the cash desk and the toilet were separated by a really thin wall -- everyone would hear what I was doing if I wasn't careful.
I was at my wits' end, close to tears and sweating. I came to the conclusion that the only way I was gonna get it out was by pulling it out. I covered my hand in T.P. and tried to grip it, but the paper kept on tearing and it wouldn't budge. I'd been in there half an hour; I knew if I was there any longer I'd get sacked.
I realized that I had to use my hands and was so repulsed by the prospect. Squeamish at the best of times, shit isn't my favorite thing AT ALL. I thought I was gonna puke, but I was in pain and there wasn't any other way. After poking around for a bit in what felt like wet clay, I managed to pry it free, to my tremendous relief. But, my hand looked like I'd gone crazy with the Nutella.
The washbasin was outside, so I tried to clean it up with paper, but it was all under my nails. I got to the wash basin only to find there was no soap. I was gutted. My hand stank, to put it mildly, and I just felt really dirty. I washed my hands in water for ages, but the smell just wouldn't go away. It didn't even smell like shit, it was much worse than that. It was like in Mallrats where the guy goes on about how you can never get rid of the smell of butt.
I had no choice but to go out and carry on working for the next four hours with a hand that reeked of butt. It was so bad that when I gave customers their change over the counter, I could still smell it. When asked why I'd been gone for almost an hour, I told my manager I'd been sick (preferring to say that than what really happened) and that I was better now. Everyone felt sorry for me, but one guy came up to ask what was wrong ... I told him and his face scrunched up real bad as he obviously smelled it. He thought it was my breath!
I know all this isn't very ladylike -- it's not like I make a habit of it or anything. Hope you all enjoy the story.
-Edinburgh University
BTW: im not a girl and i copied this story i just thought it was hilarious
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