Yes. Wrote this around 9 years ago, resurrected for the Reddits. Sorry for how bad it's written (I was 19), but I really couldn't be assed re-writing. It's probably a shit story, but maybe someone will enjoy (also it's pretty long, sorry):
I was sitting alone in my room at 4pm on a Saturday afternoon, playing on my computer and enjoying life to the fullest extent when I received a message from my school friend Liam. It read: “Dude, there’s a party at kjelle’s house tonight! you in or what?”. Now, Kjelle was a German exchange student who who was in my English class but for whatever reason I never spoke to him. Having a think whether i should go or not- my mind had a moment-stopping realization;
Brain: “Dill, this guys is German!”
Me: “So?”
Brain: “Germans love beer!”
Me: “….i see where your going here”
Brain: “;)”
After that hour long brain work-out, I was quickly on my phone texting back “Dude, totally in”.
Next up was to convince one of the parents to provide me a small amount of the sweet, sweet amber fluids. This resulted in two arguments with my parents in regards to underage drinking. Suddenly and to my surprise, my 18 year old sister spawned off screen with a 6-pack of becks. And so the beering begins.
‘What food would compliment a beer?’ i thought…Walking to the kitchen, the smell of absolute magnificence saturated my sinuses. Yes, dad was cooking his signature beef curry. I circled the kitchen like a starving hyena , demanding minute-by-minute status updates for the next 45 minutes. Finally, the dish was complete and I devoured a bowl full in record time.
Straight to the shower I went. After a lengthy wash and tactical fap, I deodorised, moisturized and brushed my teeth. With my newly found freshness in toe, it was time to get dressed. Problem. All of my pretty nice undies were dirty, so I had a difficult decision to make: Do I free ball or wear my holey, welfare spec Homer Simpson silk boxer shorts? I decided to go with the boxers as the chances of me picking up were non-existent. I finished getting dressed and walked off with my remaining beers to Liam’s house.
During the walk my stomach started to gurgle. My beautiful mind was thinking this was a sign to drink more beer, so I cracked open another becks. 10 minutes later I arrived at Liam’s house about with slight chafing of the genital area due to the humidity causing sweaty balls. Fucking silk boxers. It was a bad choice. We wait another 10 minutes and my other friends turn up, so we begin the trek to the party. There was a 6 kilometer hike ahead of us.
Well, what can i say, the first half of the walk was enjoyable, despite the chafe my boxers were giving me. Suddenly my stomach started gurgling. REALLY bad.
op oh. we’re half way. hold it in Dyl. hold it in.
It gurgles more furiously, causing a and silent fart to escape uncontrollably through my sweaty ass cheeks. The Curry’s back. With a vengeance.
Shit.
Holding in what I think is possibly only a backlog of farts, I continued walking silently while sipping on my last beer. It hurts too much, what the fuck do i do?!
Do I take the chance and let out a the fart of the century (with the possibility of shitting my pants) or do I hold it in until we get to the party?
In times of desperation, man is known to make some silly decisions. I clenched tenderly with my abdomen, hoping to release the fart slowly.
Silently.
Graciously.
That long awaited whoosh feeling occurred where the air escaped perfectly. No trace of shit. A smile graced my face. Fucking YES. I thought it was all well and good to release as many farts as i wanted, Because it was safe y'know. It was only air.
I go to release a second fart while chatting away with the crew. Standard fart tatics. Some air escapes then…a blank look came over my face.
“Whats wrong dyl?”
“oh nothing man keep walking, just feel a bit sick in the guts hey”
I fucking shart my pants.
My undies were COMPLETELY soaked. The back of my boxers are now covered with a light brown, curry flavoured dribble. Holy fuck. There’s still a good 3kms of walking to do. I swallowed my pride and continued the long walk.. minutes pass and Phew, now only around 2 kms left. The shit has moved to the inside of my legs and has caused acceleration of inner thigh chafe via the silky Homer Simpson boxers. Fuck.
15 minutes pass since the initial leakage- 1 kilometer left. Sweet. I can hear the party music.
Now I was starting to feel bit drunk and dehydrated but that was the least of my problems. So we soldered on with my friends oblivious to the fact that their friend had just excreted anus juice violently.
I mean, you could smell the shit- I do NOT know how they didn't notice. Maybe because i hung back from the group when walking? Maybe they could smell it but didn't tell me?
Anyways- them knowing I shit myself wasn't the problem at the time.
The problem: I have shit covered undies. What do I do? How do I get rid of them?
The solution: Dispose of them at the party then clean up the mess in my jeans with some toilet paper! You’ll be fine!
We finally arrive at the party and it's quite the decent turnout. For some reason that alludes me still to this day, I hang around outside talking to everyone in my semi drunken state. For some reason I thought people were onto me. That they suspected that I did in fact, shit my pants. After a good 10-15 minutes of idle conversation, I work up the courage to go to the toilet. Into the house I go, politely say hi to Kjelles faux host-parents and shuffle straight to the toilet.
Next problem. The window in the toilet faces the rest of the party and they can tell by the light when someone goes in. I had to be quick or they will suspect that I’m up to something in here. I rip off my pants, only to see my boxers sticking to the back of my legs with ass piss. They had to go. Now is where i start to freak out.
“Holy shit where do i put them?! Someone will find them if I leave them here. I can’t sneak them outside either, they are covered in too much shit’
While pondering what to do with the shitty boxers, it was time to wipe myself clean with toilet paper. About a quarter roll of paper was used, in conjunction with sink water to clean any seepage in my jeans. I was back to the old, clean Dyl.
‘Now what do i do with these boxers?’ i thought. The boxer-shorts were draped over the toilet bowl which gave me an idea. I can flush it.
It will totally flush.
The silk is the same width as toilet paper, so it will definitely work.
The bottom of the toilet bowl was already full of paper from the previous cleaning exercise, so I pressed the half flush button and mid flush cycle, chucked in the sleazy shitty underwear.
It looks to be going well! they are going down! Then suddenly, water begins to rise. Correction- Brown water begins to rise. OH SHIT. NO.
In a fit of panic, I grasped the toilet brush and stupidly stuffed the undies into a tighter seal within the toilet's S bend, all the while smashing the full flush button with my other hand. It's getting worse.
Fuck it- Bail.
I managed to jimmy the door to lock when I walked out of the fragrant hell hole and made my unseen escape.
Joining the party, I continued to drink free beer and talk to a girl who apparently went to my school which I've never met before. She was a pretty rad chick too- had a great talk to her, laughs, getting a nice smile now and then from her. Awesome. One thing led to another, and we got into a bit of kiss action. It's around an hour since initial arrival when this guy came up to us while hooking up on the driveway.
“Dude, some fuck has blocked the toilet with his shitty undies and the toilet has overflowed. There’s shitty water EVERYWHERE.” Holding in a terror fueled hysterical laugh, I confidently ask “oh, really?”
Now the fairy-tale ending to this story: The girl I met that night has no idea I was the toilet blocker or that I shit my pants the night we met. We exchanged numbers that night and 2 weeks later she was my girlfriend (only dated for a couple of months, though). So, if you ever read this Mel: Yes I did shit my pants that night and blocked the toilet. Sorry if I stunk like half digested curry.