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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #241134 - 11/27/13 02:31 AM

Stop by your local bakery and get a Thanksgiving cake...



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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #241196 - 12/03/13 03:49 AM

Early one morning, an elderly retired gentleman yelled to his wife, "Honey, come see what I created! It's an abstract panorama depicting the five years of the Obama presidency."

His wife yelled back, "Flush the toilet and come eat your breakfast!"

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Mel
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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #241228 - 12/05/13 09:45 AM

Just wish we could flush that turd Obama and his whole damned cabinet. Plus, include Harry Reid.

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: Mel]
      #241823 - 01/06/14 10:35 PM



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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #247995 - 02/23/15 11:32 AM

Poop Facts

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #247997 - 02/23/15 06:25 PM

Fascinating...

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: Bubba]
      #254336 - 01/15/17 09:58 AM

Blogger Ashfor Evans shares the heartwarming and horrifying story about a sweet gift from her son that turned sour very fast. Her story begins as she arrives home late after a delayed flight on a business trip. It was one of those truly rare occasions where she had the entire house to herself. Her husband had just left for a fishing trip and all of their children were at a slumber party with friends.

After dropping off her suitcase in the bedroom, she stepped into the bathroom and her hilarious story begins,

When I entered the bathroom I was greeted by a sweet citrus smell. The entire bathroom seemed to have been scrubbed just before my arrival. I looked around astonished that my husband would think to clean the house just before my arrival (God knows how much I hate returning to a messy house) and that’s when I saw it.

One of the children’s cereal bowls sitting on the shelf with what seemed to be an old bar of soap sitting in it. I didn’t remember buying grapefruit scented soap but it could’ve been from years ago. They have a tendency to dig up things long forgotten and put them on display for me.

It looked just like a bar of soap looks years after its prime. You know when it’s all dried up and misshapen? But it smelled delicious.

I picked it up and held it to my nose breathing the scent in. The smell of fresh grapefruit in a perfectly silent house is just short of heaven I believe.

The thing was I just couldn’t quite place when I had bought fancy soap and just exactly where they had found it. Throughout the night I returned several times to inhale it’s tropical scent. In between making dinner and washing my face. I never bothered to wash my hands after fondling it because it was, afterall, just soap.

The next morning the spell had been broken as I left to collect all the children and return to my life of chaos and macaroni and cheese- leaving my grapefruit scented silence as a memory. It wasn’t long after we returned when Eeny emerged from the guest bathroom pressing the bar to her lips and breathing deeply saying “This is my favorite. I love the way this smells.”

“I know!” I wholeheartedly agreed. “What IS that? Where did you guys get that?” I asked.

“Meeny found it in the boys bathroom at Tae Kwon Do and brought it home,” she happily replied.

And that’s when it hit me. It wasn’t some upscale boutique $15 soap I had been caressing for the last 12 hours. It was a urinal cake.

That’s right, catch your breath. An f-ing urinal cake. A URINAL CAKE!!!! A urinal cake from the public gym I take my 5 year old for Tae Kwon Do three times a week. A urinal cake that has been peed on by at least 1000 strange little boys that I just held against my cheek!!!!!

With this realization I screamed and jerked it from her hands flinging it into the trashcan.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!” she cried bursting into tears. “It’s my FAVORITE!!!!!”

“WASH YOUR HANDS, YOUR FACE, OH GOD WASH EVERYTHING!!!!!!” I screamed back.

And everything went black.

When I came to I realized I had only two options. As I went through my memory and all the things I had touched [eaten] since touching the vile thing I realized that in combination with all the things my kids had touched we really didn’t have much of a choice. I mean Tae Kwon Do is on Wednesdays and this was now Saturday!!!! This THING has touched basically everything in my house at this point.

So clearly our options were 1. Burn the house to the ground or 2. Pretend like it never happened and drink a bottle of wine [or two]. I’ll leave you guessing as to which I chose.

But either way here’s to kids being the most disgusting creatures ever to crawl the face of the earth and to teaching us some humility in the process.

Fortunately she was able to laugh about it later. As the saying goes, if something seems too good to be true, it probably is!

Like and share this story if you’re still laughing. Please leave a comment on Facebook and let us know if you’ve ever been in a similar situation!

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #254339 - 01/15/17 03:47 PM



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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: wuchang]
      #256696 - 02/07/18 08:42 AM

What do you get when you eat peanut butter and baked beans?

A fart that sticks to the roof of your butt.

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #259923 - 07/18/19 04:12 PM

What happens when you drink 10 oz of Magnesium Citrate? I'm glad you asked...

12:05 pm: It's time. You shotgun a 10 oz bottle like it's a lukewarm PBR and you don't want to be a beardedclam in front of your older brother's friends.

It's suppose to be grape flavored but it's becoming quite clear that whoever led the R&D team that day has never actually tasted anything grape in their life. You are already regretting this decision.

12:06 pm: You deep throat a cupcake like you've been saving it for the apocalypse because let's face it...that time is here. It's going to turn to liquid form before it even clears your throat but you don't care. All is right in the world at this moment. Hold on to that. You're about to enter a very dark period in your life.

12:37 pm: First sign of life. The pressure is growing. You already have 5 lbs of impacted chit in your colon and you basically just drank the "safe for humans" version of Drano. You feel a poop coming on finally. You think it's time. You're wrong. You get a little snake turd as a teaser.

Take note...this is the last semi-solid thing you will see leaving your body for the next 24 hours.

12:57 pm: That little science experiment you got cooking is about to reach it's boiling point. Your stomach is angry now. It hates you...you can feel it. You have exactly .3 seconds to make it to the nearest toilet but you can't run... NEVER run! You pray to god there is enough elasticity in your butt hole to keep the gates closed 5 more steps as you start to preemptively undo your pants to save valuable time. Almost there. 3...2...1...

12:58 pm: Sweet Mary, mother of God...is this real life? Your cheeks barely hit the seat and all hell breaks loose. The chit/ water mixture you've just created comes out with such force that it actually sprays the back of the toilet bowl at a 45 degree angle thus deflecting it in every direction but down.

Is that blood?

False alarm.

That's just the remnants of a cherry pie you ate at Thanksgiving...when you were 5. The smell is horrid...the sound is frightening. You try to clench whats left of your asshole to soften the blow but it's not working. The whole house just heard your liquid chit fart as it gurgled out of your ass.

1:06 pm- 8:30 pm: Everything's a blur. You have chit out everything you have ever eaten since the day you were born, everything your ancestors have ever eaten since the early 1800's, and your asshole now feels like you have a flaming hot Cheeto and the tears of a thousand Jalapeno seeds stuck in it.

You're now curled up in the bathtub ugly crying because you have to remain within arm's reach of the toilet at all times. You have the poop sweats.

You meet Jesus.

8:37 pm: Your family will never be able to unsee the things they've seen in the last 8 hours.

You're broken.

Your asshole's broken.

Your spirit's broken.

Life as you know it will never be the same. But...tomorrow's a new day. You're going to wake up, throw on the only remaining pair of underwear you have that doesn't have a chit stain on it, and you're going to run up to Target with the last shred of dignity you have left...and buy yourself a new toilet brush. You've earned it.

-unknown

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #260020 - 08/01/19 12:39 AM


A little old lady went to buy cat food. She picked up three cans but was told by the clerk, "I'm sorry, but we can't sell this to you without proof you have a cat. Too many seniors are buying cat food to eat. Management wants proof that you are buying this for your cat." So the lady went home, brought in her cat and was sold the cat food. . . . The next day, she tried to buy two cans of dog food and was again told she couldn't buy them without proof. So the lady went home, brought in her dog and was sold the dog food. . . .One day later, she brought in a box with a hole in the lid and asked the cashier to stick her finger in the hole. The cashier said, "No, you might have a snake in there." The lady assured her that there was nothing in the box that would harm her. So the cashier put her finger into the box, quickly pulled it out and exclaimed, "That smells like crap." . . . The lady replied, "It is. I want to buy two rolls of toilet paper."

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #260149 - 08/12/19 02:02 PM

hmmmmmm

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: Bubba]
      #260941 - 01/12/20 11:57 AM

The ‘self-flushing’ latrine at this 1821 Alabama fort was ahead of its time

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #260985 - 01/25/20 05:28 PM

What is your most awkward learning experience?

Mine is the time that my Great Uncle taught me how to hunt. What was supposed to be a Rite of passage, turned out to be one of the most hilarious stories of My life...

"The greatest hunter in the world!" he said while pounding his hand on the table. "Why I can sneak up on a mouse, slit its throat and it wouldn't know for 3 days." His eyes twinkled as he pretended to remember the thought. My great-uncle Max always had a way of telling you a story and believing himself to be true. " if you come hunting with Me and Tom tomorrow, I'll show you a thing or two." He said. Me being a gullible 15 year old, loved the idea of going hunting with the "Greatest Hunter in the World". " what time do we need to be up?" I asked excitedly. " and what do I need to do to get ready?" Uncle Max smiled at me and waved his hand. "Just be here at the table about 4." He said. "I'll handle the rest."

That night I barely slept at all. When 4:00 finally came I rushed into the kitchen only to find the two old Hunters, already dressed and enjoying some breakfast. The breakfast in question was a tuna salad that Uncle Max called "The Greatest Tuna Salad in the World". I could never get the recipe off of him, but I can tell you that it did have Bell peppers, peas, onions, Mayo, celery, garlic cloves, more onions, beans, vinegar, boiled eggs, pickles and though I can never get him to admit it, but I'm pretty sure he had tuna fish in it. I sat down at the table with the two old men and some sandwiches were pushed underneath my nose. I've never been one to turn down a meal, but I've weathered Uncle Max's cooking before... Being in the spotlight and not wanting to look weak in front of these mighty Hunters, I picked up one of the sandwiches. With every nerve in my body screaming, I managed to bring the sandwich to my poker face and take a bite. The sensation was tremendous. My sinuses opened, my vision blurred, my ears popped and my equilibrium flipped on end. I'm not going to lie, it was the best tuna salad I have ever had. I finished the sandwich and quickly ate a second. (In fact I ate two more just to be sure I enjoyed them.)

After eating breakfast and drinking about two pots of coffee, the old men gathered their hunting belongings and got ready. "Here." said Uncle Max as he handed me a pair of worn, camo coveralls. "Put these on." I dressed and we all drew straws to see who would carry the gear and since I was the youngest they made sure I got the shortest straw. The gear consisted of a simple backpack, filled to the brim with what felt like cast iron anvils and a roll of toilet paper.

We stepped out the house and and Lesson one Began. "AJ." Said Uncle Max as he pointed a finger at me. " I have discovered, in my years of experience hunting, that the best way to smell while you're in the woods is to smell like nothing at all. Critters detect predators by their scent first and that's why it is important to Un-Smell yourself." I nodded instinctively. My excited boy brain was already awashed with Buck Fever and the best I could do was "zombie" forward. Uncle Max then proceeded to spray Tom and I down with his patented "Greatest Un-Smeller in the World" (It was also at this point that I started to see a product theme with this old man.)

After being thoroughly soaked with un-smeller, we started off. Uncle Max and Tom both leading the way as I was carrying the gear and was lagging a little behind. "AJ!" Uncle Max called out as he motioned me to hurry up. I threw myself into second gear and caught up with the old men. "We got to cross this corn field to get to our hunting spot" He said. "But the wind in to our backs so we're going to take the long way around so we can hide our scent." He pointed in a long sweeping arch as he spoke at a path that may have been 3 miles or so. Me, being the registered gear carrier, stated to let out a groan but quickly caught it and turned into a positive response. "Urrrrrrrrrrrr-K." I said.

We continued walking and after a bought 20 minutes or so and my stomach announced to me that it was having some difficulty doing it's daily task. Still not wanting to show any sign of weakness, I told it to hold off for as long as it could. It replied that it will try, but the gas pressure was rising... We continued on and I made a calculated decision to lag behind under the guise of fatigue. The Old men, none the wiser, continued a Whispered conversation on Theoretical Linear Transducing. (I think it was at least. They were hard to hear.) Once I had achieved enough distance, I slowly opened the Ol' Gas valve and equalized the pressure... I could tell right away... It was bad...

I watched in mortified horror as the cloud swept across the ground and towards my companions. "GO LEFT, GO RIGHT!" my brain screamed. "Don't let them know that I did that!" To my dismay, the cloud could not hear me or it simply did not care for my instructions. When it reached the two men,they stopped dead in their tracks. A strange look was on their faces as they looked around, smelling the air. Uncle Max, with a scowl, motioned me towards him. "Oh no!" I thought. "I've Ruined the hunt! I've "smelled" us all! They know what I did!" As I approached him, he had a grave look on his face. "AJ, do you know what that smell is?" He asked. His eyes, piercing through my skull. My nerves were shot. My heart was pounding. My brain had completely checked out. The child like nature still in me, managed to take the helm of my consciousness. "Noooooooo...." I said sheepishly. Uncle Max, eyes, Still fiery and focused. Stared at me and said.

"That smell... Is a DOE IN HEAT! SMELL HER?!" He whipped his head around and filled his nostrils with the scent, trying to pinpoint it's location. "It smells like she went this way Max!" Cried out Tom as he pointed more down wind. "We better hurry then!" Replied Uncle Max and the two old men took off with an energy seldom seen in old men. It was at this point I started to suspect that Uncle Max would stretch the truth about his hunting abilities....

We tracked my Fart for 8 miles that day and never once found the doe in heat....

-AJ

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #260989 - 01/26/20 07:47 AM

True wisdom indeed

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: wuchang]
      #261111 - 02/15/20 11:10 AM

Halfway Into His Solo Antarctic Trek, Colin O’Brady Pooed Himself — In His Only Pair Of Underwear

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #261112 - 02/15/20 01:46 PM



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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: 67Firebird]
      #261113 - 02/16/20 11:32 AM

Colin bars


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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: wuchang]
      #261200 - 02/29/20 03:25 PM

How do blind folks know they are done wiping?

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #261686 - 05/02/20 12:00 PM

In the end,
Mankind used so much toilet paper
they wiped themselves out.

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #261695 - 05/02/20 04:43 PM

All the Ways We’ve Wiped: The History of Toilet Paper and What Came Before

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #265088 - 10/10/24 12:14 PM

So, last week, something pretty tragic happened in our household. It's taken me until now to wrap my head around it and find the words to describe the horror. It started off simple enough - something that's probably happened to most of you.
Sometime between midnight and 1:30am, our puppy Evie pooped on our rug in the living room. This is the only time she's done this, so it's probably just because we forgot to let her out before we went to bed that night. Now, if you have a detective's mind, you may be wondering how we know the poop occurred between midnight and 1:30am. We were asleep, so how do I know that time frame?
Why, friends, that's because our Roomba runs at 1:30am every night, while we sleep. And it found the poop. And so begins the Pooptastrophe. The poohpocalypse. The pooppening.
If you have a Roomba, please rid yourself of all distractions and absorb everything I'm about to tell you.
Do not, under any circumstances, let your Roomba run over dog poop. If the unthinkable does happen, and your Roomba runs over dog poop, stop it immediately and do not let it continue the cleaning cycle. Because if that happens, it will spread the dog poop over every conceivable surface within its reach, resulting in a home that closely resembles a Jackson Pollock poop painting.
It will be on your floorboards. It will be on your furniture legs. It will be on your carpets. It will be on your rugs. It will be on your kids' toy boxes. If it's near the floor, it will have poop on it. Those awesome wheels, which have a checkered surface for better traction, left 25-foot poop trails all over the house. Our lovable Roomba, who gets a careful cleaning every night, looked like it had been mudding. Yes, mudding - like what you do with a Jeep on a pipeline road. But in poop.
Then, when your four-year-old gets up at 3am to crawl into your bed, you'll wonder why he smells like dog poop. And you'll walk into the living room. And you'll wonder why the floor feels slightly gritty. And you'll see a brown-encrusted, vaguely Roomba-shaped thing sitting in the middle of the floor with a glowing green light, like everything's okay. Like it's proud of itself. You were still half-asleep until this point, but now you wake up pretty damn quickly.
And then the horror. Oh the horror.
So, first you clean the child. You scrub the poop off his feet and put him back in bed. But you don't bother cleaning your own feet, because you know what's coming. It's inevitable, and it's coming at you like a freight train. Some folks would shrug their shoulders and get back in bed to deal with it in the morning. But you're not one of those people - you can't go to sleep with that war zone of poop in the living room.
So you clean the Roomba. You toss it in the bathtub to let it soak. You pull it apart, piece-by-piece, wondering at what point you became an adult and assumed responsibility for 3:30am-Roomba-disassembly-poop-cleanups. By this point, the poop isn't just on your hands - it's smeared up to your elbows. You already heard the Roomba make that "whirlllllllllllllllll-boop-hisssssssss" noise that sounds like electronics dying, and you realize you forgot to pull the battery before getting it wet.
Oh, and you're not just using profanity - you're inventing new types of profanity. You're saying things that would make Satan shudder in revulsion. You hope your kid stayed in bed, because if he hears you talking like this, there's no way he's not ending up in prison.
Then you get out the carpet shampooer. When you push it up to the rug - the rug that started it all - the shampooer just laughs at you. Because that rug is going in the trash, folks. But you shampoo it anyway, because your wife loved that damn rug, and you know she'll ask if you tried to clean it first.
Then you get out the paper towel rolls, idly wondering if you should invest in paper towel stock, and you blow through three or four rolls wiping up poop. Then you get the spray bottle with bleach water and hose down the floor boards to let them soak, because the poop has already dried. Then out comes the steam mop, and you take care of those 25-ft poop trails.
And then, because it's 6am, you go to bed. Let's finish this tomorrow, right?
The next day, you finish taking the Roomba apart, scraping out all the tiny flecks of poop, and after watching a few Youtube instructional videos, you remove the motherboard to wash it with a toothbrush. Then you bake it in the oven to dry. You put it all back together, and of course it doesn't work. Because you heard the "whirlllllllllllllll-boop-hissssssss" noise when it died its poopy death in the bathtub. But you hoped that maybe the Roomba gods would have mercy on you.
But there's a light at the end of the tunnel. After spending a week researching how to fix this damn $350 Roomba without spending $350 again - including refurb units, new motherboards, and new batteries - you finally decide to call the place where you bought it. That place is called Target. They have an awesome warranty. They claim it's for life, and it's for any reason.
So I called them and told the truth. My Roomba found dog poop and almost precipitated World War III.
And you know what they did? They offered to replace it. Yes, folks. They are replacing the Roomba that ran over dog poop and then died a poopy, watery death in the bathtub - by no fault of their own, of course.
So, mad props to Target . If you're buying anything expensive, and they sell it, I recommend buying it from them. And remember - don't let your Roomba run over dog poop...

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #265135 - 10/30/24 05:23 PM

Things I learned on the internet.

When betting on a dog race always bet on the one that poops on the way to the starting line.

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Re: Flatulence And Other Bottom Of The Pyle Stuff [Re: SwampFox]
      #265137 - 10/31/24 08:07 AM

Quote:

SwampFox said:
Things I learned on the internet.

When betting on a dog race always bet on the one that poops on the way to the starting line.




True Wisdom


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