Or right after eating, or just before you're going to eat, or if you have a weak stomach for that matter.
But on another topic here, the mention of poop brought this old story to mind. This actually did happen to someone and about the third time she told the story, I had to snag a copy of it. It's just too good to pass up.
> Several years ago, I was having a very serious constipation problem.
> Go ahead. Start laughing. I know you're probably saying "Oh God - don't tell
> me Carla has a story about constipation".
> No - I don't have a story about constipation. So there.
> I have a story about diarrhea.
> Now shut up and let me finish.
> Okay. Now...I took two Correctol - but nothing happened the next day (which
> was a Saturday). Sat on the bowl - nuthin's budgin. So much for the promise
> of "gentle next day effectiveness", right? I'm strainin - grunting. But
> there's no skid marks showin up in THIS bowl.
> I got off the bowl and start going about my day. In the middle of the
> afternoon, dh asks me to go the office with him as he had a new office and
> wanted me to help him decorate it and get some office supplies for him. I
> figured, okay. I'm plugged. Got a cork in it. If it hasn't happened by now
> (3:00) - it just ain't gonna happen. So I left and forgot all about my little
> When I got to the office, he gave me a list of office supplies he needed. He
> gave me his Office Depot credit card and said I wouldn't have a problem as
> "everyone knew who he was". Gee, Mr. Popularity I thought.
> So off I went, over to Office Depot with my daughter in tow.
> La la la la la. Strutting down the aisle of paper clips, legal pads.... la la
> la la la. Pencils, erasers.... la la la la la....
> Suddenly, I felt a gurgle in my stomach. "Oh yeah", I thought. "Perhaps that
> laxative is finally starting to work that gentle magic".
> I went to walk towards the women's room, but I'm starting to realize that the
> timing of my *** hitting the correct place to dispose of this stuff is not
> gonna synchronize.
> I'm thinking - "Oh....my.....GOD. I'm gonna....**** MY PANTS!!!!!!"
> I start to walk faster, but it's too late. Mt. St. Helen's starts erupting.
> Now - do any of you know the square footage of an Office Depot aisle where the
> ladies room is at the end? It's 2,300,500,577,888 square feet.
> I start walking faster and faster trying to prevent my sphincter muscles from
> allowing this mass eruption. The look on my face was that of pure horror -
> and my daughter notices the "stick-stuck-up-her-***" mode of walking.
> "What's the matter Mommy?" I hear her say...
> All I can say is "Oh my God, oh my dear God" as I go marching past her down
> this 2,300,500,677,888 square foot aisle with the smell of **** starting to
> waft through the air.
> Now - as I'm marching - the faster I march, the faster it starts sliding out.
> My daughter by this time is following me - and she KNOWS by the look on my
> face that things are not good. She also knows things are not good by watching
> the butt area in my pants beginning to expand.
> Now - I happened to have one of those tight pair of stirrup pants that you
> wear socks on the outside of -- so at least it didn't fall out onto the floor.
> It just went down my legs and into my socks. And here I am --- THANKFUL for
> I finally race into the ladies room - and I'm crying by this point. "Oh my
> God - I can't believe this is happening. Oh my God". Finally, my daughter
> comes in and says "Ewwwwww. Oh my GOD - Mommy - is that YOU that stinks so
> I say "Alison - if you even THINK about leaving - you will be the first child
> to DIE in an Office Depot bathroom. Now - get me some paper towels and GUARD
> THE DAMN DOOR and make sure no one else comes in here!!!!"
> She wets every single paper towel she can find and slips them under the door -
> then stands watch between the door and the ladies room.
> I attempt to take off my pants - but there's **** falling out all over. As
> many times as I said "Oh my God" - you'd a thought that He would have shown up
> in a VISION in that damn bathroom!
> I'm trying to wipe as best I can - but it's just not cutting it. All I'm
> doing is plugging up the toilet now with paper towels. I take my pants off -
> they are so gross, I can barely even think about handling them. My
> underwear? Forget it - in the sanitary napkin bin. My socks? Same place.
> My daughter is crying by now....
> "Oh my God Mommy - this is SO embarrassing. What if someone comes in????"
> You just say "Wow - must be a baby diaper in the trash can!" If you mention a
> word - you're a DEAD KID! Got me???"
> Sniveling - "okay Mommy....but I thought you didn't want me to lie".
> "LIE Dammit. LIE YOUR *** OFF!!!!!"
> Finally - I emerge from the stall, **** smeared all over the place - the
> stench totally unbelievable - and I'm attempting to rinse out my pants.
> They've got CHUNKS of **** in em.
> I didn't give a crap (hehehe) at this point. It's going down the SINK!
> Suddenly, Alison slams the door and stands in front of it - her face as white
> as a bottle of liquid paper. She shreeks "Someone's COMING!!!! A lady is
> COMING INTO THE BATHROOM!!!!!"
> "Well, DON'T LET HER IN!!!!"
> She starts to cry uncontrollably.
> I run back in the stall, my wet smelly *** hanging out, naked from the butt
> down with my ****-dripping pants in hand. I'm peering through the door jam.
> I watch the door open. In walks a young girl employee of Office Depot with a
> name tag. She says hi to Alison. Alison tries not to look like a deer caught
> in the headlights. She goes to the third mirror and sink (the **** is in the
> first one) - turns and says to Ali -
> Girl: "MAN!!!! What DIED in here????"
> Ali: "Uh....um....Well.... um"... then blurts as fast as she can "my mom had
> a bad stomach ache and just pooped her pants!".
> Girl: Silent for a second. Then, "Oh". Um.....well....really? Ummm...Maa'm?
> Do you ...need any....help?"
> Mom thinking: Okay, hmmm...I wonder what casket I should pick for her? Oh well
> not to worry, cause I'll be in prison and dh will have to handle the funeral.
> Mom instead says: "Oh no...Just a little diarrhea, that's all. I'm fine".
> Girl: Oh....okay....sorry. (Leaves VERY quickly).
> I come out of the stall - and Alison is hysterical by now. "I'm sorry Mommy.
> I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to say".
> "Awright. Awright. Quit your sniveling. We've GOT to figure out a way to get
> OUT of here without attracting attention."
> I put on my soaking wet disgusting smelly pants - (my underwear and socks had
> already been disgarded, leaving a nice surprise for the one who had trash duty
> that day) - pulled my sweater down as low as I could - and ran out of that
> damn store as fast as I could go. I did happen to notice that girl talking to
> a crowd of boys as I passed. They all had smiles on their faces.
> To make a long story longer, I immediately went next door to a KMart and
> proceeded to shop. I did notice however people sniffing the air whenever I
> approached and then moving slowly away. I just smiled.
> In all the history of shoppers, I'm sure I could have won a prize that day for
> the speediest K-Mart shopper on record. Socks, pants, underwear, shoes. I
> think it took 30.2 seconds. I made Alison pay for it while I hung out in yet
> another ladies room stall.
> Alison just followed the stench and slipped the bag underneath where she heard
> dripping and saw a small brown puddle.
> I changed as quickly as I could, put the **** dripping clothes in the bag, and
> discarded every piece of clothing I had been wearing at the beginning of this
> little shopping adventure on the way out in the dumpster, including my shoes.
> As I was driving back to my husband's office, the only words that were still
> coming to mind were "Oh my God". I walked into my husband's office and
> immediately went into his rest room to "bathe" in the sink. He sees me with
> no supplies - no bags - and an entirely new outfit. Before he could even ask,
> I tell him the story - and I thought the man would hock up a lung laughing.
> I was so mad I lied to him. "HA! Glad to know YOU think it's so funny. But
> just so you know, I told them I was your wife on the way out and that their
> bathroom needed attention. I just can't wait until YOU go in there next week
> for supplies!"
> Shut him up.