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Posted: 8/17/2004 10:36:36 AM EDT
I work in a data center and we have a big group here today taking a tour. Well. to make a long story short. I head to to rest room to take a piss. Theres two shitter in there and two urinals. The two shitter have someone in each of them. I am at one of the urinals about to let it ripp when the door comes flying open. This little Chinese guys comes running in and runs to the shiiters but they are both full. He looks at me then not even a second later this dude pulls down his pants down and backs up to the urinal and does the most nastiest diahrea splat sounds I have ever heard.I am talking huge wet sounding farts ,etc. Keep in mind I an still pissing and this guy is like a foot away from me. He starts grunting and he is sweating like crazy. I look over at him in disbelief.I told him dont get any on me or I am going to hurt you. I zip it up and walk over and wash my hands. This fucker is still sitting on the stand up urinal. As I am walking out he ask me to hand him some paper towels. I told him there wasnt any and I was being truthfull about the paper towles. As i opened the door to leave the restroom I look back and the fucker and he had made his way over to the garbage to pull some used paper towels to wipe his ass.
I just thought I would share one of my interesting days in the life of a data center.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:37:31 AM EDT
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:38:31 AM EDT
[Last Edit: 8/17/2004 10:39:52 AM EDT by hielo]
Hopefully, what he had, was not airborne.

When you got to go, you got to go. I give the guy an A+ for ingenuity.

The least you could have done was fished some paper towels out of the trash for him, it wasn't like the guy was asking you for a reach around.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:38:34 AM EDT
You took the time to wash your hands. And you did not have a square to spare.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:38:44 AM EDT
That's wrong.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:38:47 AM EDT
I saw a used tampon in the parking lot at the gunshow last weekend.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:38:49 AM EDT
Thats fucking funny
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:39:26 AM EDT
Ahhhh, that truly is an awesome story.
<----progression of the Chinese guy's mood from beggining of event to end.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:39:36 AM EDT
I bet an alien jumped out of his ass right after you walked out ...
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:40:02 AM EDT
No matter how disgusting your day was, HIS was worse



It would suk to have explosive diarreha charging out your bunghole, only to find the toilets occupied. Not sure what I would have done in that instance, myself.


I would probably have run into the ladies room!!
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:41:27 AM EDT

Originally Posted By DK-Prof:
I would probably have run into the ladies room!!



THe dutch can get away with that.

Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:41:30 AM EDT
better than crapping your pants
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:41:38 AM EDT
SARS
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:42:36 AM EDT
at least he didn't back up to YOUR urinal
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:42:52 AM EDT
Good out.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:43:17 AM EDT
crapping your pants keeps you warm on theose cold nights.

Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:43:22 AM EDT
Best post ive seen since the stray cat slaying
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:43:24 AM EDT
you must live in California
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:43:54 AM EDT
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:44:24 AM EDT

Originally Posted By Lumpy196:
Hey, when your ass is about to explode, you doo what you gotta doo.

Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:44:54 AM EDT
Maybe it was bad chinese food.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:45:26 AM EDT
[Last Edit: 8/17/2004 10:46:36 AM EDT by Ridge]
Don't worry it will probably get worse, you'll be running to the bathroom in a couple of hours.


Karma=Norovirus
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:45:32 AM EDT
I get that way too sometimes if I eat Kitty Fried Rice ...
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:46:06 AM EDT
Yes, explosive diarrhea can just be SO much fun.



I was in an airport crapper (can't remember where) but there was a line out the door waiting to use them.

When I opened the door to leave the guy who was next in line DOVE for the stall just as I opened the door (nearly knocking me over) but didn't quite make it. He doubled over and projectile vomited on the floor just as I got by him.

Nothing like the sounds of high velocity puke hitting tile floor.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:47:47 AM EDT
There should almost be a poll about this - where's Milsurp when you need him?

I'm curious what people here would do in a similar situation, if their ass was seriously seconds away from a catastrophic wet explosion.


- do it in the unrinal like the guy did

- go in the trash can

- run into the ladies room

- crap in your pants and suck it up


... other alternatives?
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:47:56 AM EDT

Originally Posted By Airwolf:
Yes, explosive diarrhea can just be SO much fun.



I was in an airport crapper (can't remember where) but there was a line out the door waiting to use them.

When I opened the door to leave the guy who was next in line DOVE for the stall just as I opened the door (nearly knocking me over) but didn't quite make it. He doubled over and projectile vomited on the floor just as I got by him.

Nothing like the sounds of high velocity puke hitting tile floor.



Imagine being the guy after him...
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:48:23 AM EDT
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:49:47 AM EDT

Originally Posted By Lightning_P38:
At least he didn't do it in the sink. My wife used to work at a Taco Bell while she was in college, and they had problems with people shitting in the mens room sinks.




Thats from eating all those Taco's.

Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:51:38 AM EDT
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:53:04 AM EDT
Obligatory for this type of thread:

The Ryan's Steakhouse Story

by Anonymous

Now, I know that there is a lot of embellishment that occurs on this group and 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 bastards. 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 overwhelmed 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 too 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 shit. 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 shit.

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 ass was reaching Biblical portions. 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 ass 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 shit at the exact same second that one’s ass 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 halfway 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 bastards 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 is 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 crouched 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 shit no matter what is about to come slamming out of your ass. It is apparently an evolutionary thing since shitting 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 ass 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 shit the consistency of thick mud with embedded pockets of greasy liquid came flying out of my ass.

But remember, I was only halfway down on the toilet at that moment. The shit 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 halfway 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 shit 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 shit remaining on about one-third of the seat rim which I had now just collapsed upon.

Now, back to the vomit...

While all the shitting 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 sweatpants 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 shit 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 shit. All while thick shit was spread all over my ass in a ring curiously in the shape of a toilet seat.

And there was no fucking 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. 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 of 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 bastard 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.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:54:43 AM EDT
thats fuggin nasty, but to put into prospective....lots of restrooms over there in that part of the world are nothing more than holes in the floor of a small room. so a urinal probably looks like a throne to some of them!
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:55:05 AM EDT
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 10:55:45 AM EDT
[Last Edit: 8/17/2004 10:58:26 AM EDT by Greenhorn]

Originally Posted By StariVojnik:
Thats from eating all those Taco's.



Put that apostrophe in the first word and the grammar is perfect.

The grammar JBT has spoken


We have a few friends in the resturaunt business, and I've heard stories about morbidly obese people using the toilet, missing, and wiping crap onto the seats as they got back up. Oh, and a lady who is too fat to wipe, and when she leaves the table after eating they have to wipe up and disinfect the booth she sits on.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 11:07:59 AM EDT
I would have gone for the ladies room...


And probably been sued for sexual harrasment, but you know its gonna have more TP than the mens and more stalls...

Then its trashcan time...

Link Posted: 8/17/2004 11:13:32 AM EDT
[Last Edit: 8/17/2004 11:14:03 AM EDT by MagKnightX]
Probably either trashcan or Ladies' Room.

Most Ladies' rooms that I have snuck into (all empty) have been no nicer than the men's room, except for the tampon-dispensing-and-disposal units. Oh, and the Girl's Onstage Dressing room at the (plays, not movies) theater that I did some tech work at (and thus had freedom to roam EVERYWHERE ) had a broken tampon machine that I managed to get twenty quarters out of.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 11:14:46 AM EDT
Wow, what a story.

When I worked at Semitool one time I was walking to the restroom and I saw a guy down the hall running in my direction (looked like a client from out of the country). I went in the restroom and got in a stall and this dude comes running in and takes the stall next to me. As soon as he shuts the door he starts puking in the toilet. After about a minute of puking, he flushed the toilet, then I could hear him splashing around in the water like he was washing his face off . I waited until he was gone before I left.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 11:16:01 AM EDT

Originally Posted By Greenhorn:

Originally Posted By StariVojnik:
Thats from eating all those Taco's.



Put that apostrophe in the first word and the grammar is perfect.

The grammar JBT has spoken


We have a few friends in the resturaunt business, and I've heard stories about morbidly obese people using the toilet, missing, and wiping crap onto the seats as they got back up. Oh, and a lady who is too fat to wipe, and when she leaves the table after eating they have to wipe up and disinfect the booth she sits on.



I wasn't going to say anything.. but... +1
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 11:18:47 AM EDT
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 11:19:57 AM EDT
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 11:27:12 AM EDT

Originally Posted By HiramRanger:
Oh man, not this shit again!



+1

It appears that many here have a fecal fascination.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 11:27:18 AM EDT

Originally Posted By thebeekeeper1:
Don't eat the onion rings at Burger King. I thought it was just something weird with my guts, but have recently learned (through the odd conversations the women my wife works with) several others have the same reaction--VIOLENT, painful diahrea after eating them. So far no "accidents" but I've squatted along the road and sprayed the bushes more than once before figuring out what did it. Ugh!



Link Posted: 8/17/2004 11:32:17 AM EDT
[Last Edit: 8/17/2004 11:32:45 AM EDT by Airwolf]

Originally Posted By thebeekeeper1:
Don't eat the onion rings at Burger King. I thought it was just something weird with my guts, but have recently learned (through the odd conversations the women my wife works with) several others have the same reaction--VIOLENT, painful diahrea after eating them. So far no "accidents" but I've squatted along the road and sprayed the bushes more than once before figuring out what did it. Ugh!



Thank you for that LOVELY image.

Link Posted: 8/17/2004 11:59:53 AM EDT
Man I can't believe you wouldn't hand him a rag or towel or nothin. No matter what flavor we are we all got to shit, and on top of that, I bet there's been a time in your life when you were puking or shittin your brains out when someone helped you.

You could have made a joke about it like. " Hot damn boy when you got to go you got to go. Quit eating that hot and sour dude, it done burnt out your grippers." If you had handed him the paper he would have been your friend for life.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 12:02:12 PM EDT

Originally Posted By TexasRooter:
Man I can't believe you wouldn't hand him a rag or towel or nothin. No matter what flavor we are we all got to shit, and on top of that, I bet there's been a time in your life when you were puking or shittin your brains out when someone helped you.

You could have made a joke about it like. " Hot damn boy when you got to go you got to go. Quit eating that hot and sour dude, it done burnt out your grippers." If you had handed him the paper he would have been your friend for life.



Exactly.

Lets hope, what goes around does not come around for you!
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 12:07:14 PM EDT
I'm actually surprised nobody has asked for pictures...
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 12:12:11 PM EDT
This thread is no good without pics!

And I don't buy the story anyway!
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 12:14:38 PM EDT
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 12:24:32 PM EDT
Ok here is the 1Gunruner's airport adventure

Stokes and I were returning from the 2001 Shot Show in New Orleans. We left about N.O. 10AM and had few drinks on our way to a layover in St. Louis. I can't remember how long we we're in St. Louis but, it was long for me to have about 5 double Bloody Mary's at a web bar in the airport. We had the misfortune to get stuck sitting on either side of a liberal feminazi bitch(I believe she was a stewardess also). I remember she didn't care for the website I was on... this one. I know I had some pretty snazzy remarks which lead to her departure (I can't remember them but, I know Stokes does) I believe she was leaving to alert authorities to make sure I would not be able to board the plane.

Deciding that she probably would follow through on her threats we decided to head toward the gate. On the way I decided I was really hungry but, was not willing to ignore my number one rule of travel "I do not eat airport food". Walking through the airport I see a Burger King and thought to myself, "That's not really airport food it's Burger King" and I was really hungry. I ordered two Jr. Whoppers with cheese - innocent enough (I thought).

Now for those here that don't know me and are thinking it was the alcohol, it wasn't All was well and we boarded our plane. I immediately(after going through my pre-flight ritual of telling the strangers around me in an alarmed voice that "There is a man on the wing!" - hey to each his own) lay my head against the window and fall asleep. I am fine until the stewardess is just not happy with me sleeping and wakes me to ask if I want to eat. I am pissed and tell her no. I sit there and watch Stokes eat and decide that now that I can't go back to sleep and the stewardess is done serving it would be a good time to bother her and tell her that I have changed my mind. I eat the food(I have no rules against eating airline food; for those keeping score at home) and fall back asleep.

I am not sure how long I was asleep maybe an hour but, I awake in a cold sweat and a terrible feeling in my bowels. I call the stewardess and ask for a 7-up. I drank about half of it when I realize the problems are not going away. I decide it is time to wake Stokes up as I am gonna need to make a hasty retreat to a lavatory. I wake him up him but he fails to understand the growing importance of me getting there. I finally get him up so I can go.

I turn to the rear of the plane to see 4 people congregating around the facilities, which tells me there are 2 people in them and 4 waiting to get in. So I wheel around and head to first class. I arrive at the front of the plane only to find this one in use also. There are 3 stewardess's in the area up against the cockpit door and one asks if she could help me. I told her of my need to use the bathroom. She tells me that one of the crew is waiting to use it but, evidentially could see the desperation on my face and asks the other gal if I can use it first; thankfully she obliged.

At this time I should point out the fact that I am 6'3" 300lbs (It will be painfully obvious soon why). I am standing at the door waiting for my turn when I feel my head hit the door and I start to go down (I have never in my life fainted before) and I blackout. I come to, to these three little stewardesses slamming me into a tiny fold down seat on the cockpit wall and shoving an oxygen tube in my nose. They start asking me what happened and if I am all right. I respond how the hell would I know what happened. One tells me she looked at me right before I hit the wall and that my lips were blue and I started to slide face first down the door. As she is telling me this the oxygen is flowing, function is returning to my brain and so is the feeling of why I was there in the first place. I tell them I need in the bathroom NOW!

I bolt for the door and rip down my pants with not a second to spare. For the next several minutes I continued to fill and flush the bowl in a continuous stream. I now realize that my bladder is ready to explode and in my haste to sit down I forgot to position myself to be able to do this all at once. I am unable to change things now as I am wedged in place. I try to stand up but, as I do the force of nature requires me to sit back down immediately. As I am sitting there I can here the sound of a something being sprayed throughout the first class cabin, one of the stewardesses knocks on the door and asks if I am OK. I tell her that I am but, that I am not finished. It has now come to the point that I can not hold my bladder any longer. I stand and try to turn around to face the toilet but, can't (remember my size) I realize that I am gonna have to relieve myself in the tiny sink. As I start the process the rumbling in my bowels returns and I as I try to stop the forward action the incredible pressure at all ends releases and let's all hell break loose. I have now completely destroyed the restroom. There is nothing that isn't covered.

Now that all pressure is released I see that I was going to have to try and clean up the mess and now realize that the toilet is plugged solid and will no longer flush. I use all the TP in there and now have it piled up above the rim of the seat. I jam the seat down as best I can and knock on the door to tell them I am coming out. I hear one of them tell me to come out so I unlock the door but, it won't open. I give it a little more push and still nothing, I am really tired of being in there so I really shove on it. It opens and flings a stewardess into the person seated across the isle. I figured out she was pushing on the door so the second I squeezed out they could slam it shut behind me.

The smell of air freshener spray was almost enough to knock me over... but, enough about me; the looks on the first class cabin passengers was indescribable. I smiled and made my way back to the seat to find Stokes now in the window seat sound asleep. I am sitting there a minute and in the middle of a little snoring episode, without opening his eyes he mumbles, "What happened?" I could tell he really didn't care but was being curious. I asked him what did he mean; "what happened?" he mumbled again "You were gone (opens one eye and holds his arm up to his face) close to an hour and they kept coming back here and bugging me. What did they say? I asked. Well they came back and asked if I was with the big guy, I told them ya and the just kept quizzing me "Is he sick.... does he have a medical condition..... is there anything we should know about him?" Finally the last time they came back and woke me up to tell me you weren't doing very well I told them "What do you want me to do about it, I'm not a damn doctor", he said "They left me alone after that"

We arrive in Seattle to find a maintenance truck already there waiting to work on it, it did delay the following flight a half an hour.

Link Posted: 8/17/2004 12:27:09 PM EDT

Originally Posted By thebeekeeper1:
Don't eat the onion rings at Burger King. I thought it was just something weird with my guts, but have recently learned (through the odd conversations the women my wife works with) several others have the same reaction--VIOLENT, painful diahrea after eating them. So far no "accidents" but I've squatted along the road and sprayed the bushes more than once before figuring out what did it. Ugh!



+1, BTDT.

Burger King is a evil establishment.
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 12:32:15 PM EDT

Originally Posted By Redcap:

Originally Posted By thebeekeeper1:
Don't eat the onion rings at Burger King. I thought it was just something weird with my guts, but have recently learned (through the odd conversations the women my wife works with) several others have the same reaction--VIOLENT, painful diahrea after eating them. So far no "accidents" but I've squatted along the road and sprayed the bushes more than once before figuring out what did it. Ugh!



+1, BTDT.

Burger King is a evil establishment.



the BK's around here arnt that bad i eat at them evrey now and then and they taste fine hell its beter then mc donalds
Link Posted: 8/17/2004 12:32:32 PM EDT
so was that cat or dog he ate last night????
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