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Submitted by Safety Officer (Somewhere, MI) on 12.09.14

A few months ago, in order to celebrate my younger sister's graduation, we went to a restaurant with some family friends. One our our family's friends have a so who had graduated at the same time, who brought his girlfriend with him.
So after I had finished saying goodbye to friends still in school and old teachers, I hopped in my car and joined my family at a Mexican restaurant where my dad told me that he'd get us any food that we liked.
I ordered a large abomination called the "Wet Burrito." Eventually, they delivered unto me three pounds of beef, chicken, hot sauce and corn.
It was delicious.

Soon, I was out having a cigarette with my friend and his girlfriend, when the familiar urge to take a shit came upon me. With a customary nod that friends give each other when one goes into battle against the demons of our bowels, I ventured into the Mexican themed restaurant to search for the bathroom. As I did so, the urge to let out a slight fart came to me.
I let it loose and then felt an unpleasant burning sensation in my anus. I felt the unfamiliar feeling of warmth running down my legs and into my boxer shorts and I had an unpleasant realization.
I had just shit myself.
I rushed into the bathroom and ripped down my jeans to discover a puddle of rancid water waiting for me in my shorts and brown liquid staining my thighs. I couldn't do anything except wait for my bowels to drain out over the toilet and spend fifteen minutes wiping away the sinful evil that had leaked out.
The floor was covered in shit, but I refused to take off my shoes and stand in the mixture of public restroom bacteria and diarrhea barefoot. I went about removing my boxers with a pen that I had the fortune to stick in my pocket, stabbing into the material and ripping whenever I could. When I had finished, I buttoned my jeans and gathered my courage to leave the stall.
I dumped the torn shorts in the trash (gaining odd looks from others who had entered) and washed my hands to venture outside.
My friend and sister, both concerned for me, had waited to ask if I was hurt. I told them that I was constipated.
Instead of going for ice cream, I drove home in shame to shower and hope that it would never happen again.

Vote:Yeah! You Shit the *Shit* out of yourself! 299 Not So Much 212


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