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Baby Blowout Story #2: The Triple Threat!

May 2, 2012 1 comment

This story comes from long time reader, first time writer who I will call D Fresh.  While not a “blowout” story per se, it captures the spirit:

I was in San Diego working.  My wife and two twin sons were all sick.  One of the boys never pukes but the other and his mother are hardcore pukers at the drop of a hat. While the two boys are playing, the easy-puke son threw up on himself and his brother.  My wife was obviously disgusted and threw the boys in the bathtub to get clean.  A sensible thing to do for a mom, right? 

Soon she hears them laughing and doesn’t think much about it. She goes in to check on them and the other son had pooped in the bathtub, which he was doing every four out of five trips to the bathtub at this point in his life. This time, they had put the poop in each other’s hair and were laughing every time they put on another piece. My wife was super-disgusted and throws them into the shower in the other bathroom. She figured she’d shower with them for craziness containment and efficiency of cleaing them up. As soon as she gets in, she gets overwhelmed with the smell of poop, already being nauseous, and hurls on both boys. To review, we went from one puking on two, then gelling each other’s hair with poop, to mom puking on both of the boys. The power of smell is amazing.

Baby Blowout Story: #1

May 1, 2012 2 comments

Get ready for a week-long dedication to baby blow out stories here on He Shat, She Shat!  As parents, we recognize how much fecal matter becomes a part of your life.  We will share with you our stories and hope you will share yours in the comments section:

It was a lovely trip to the zoo with my 9 month old.  I love this age because they are old enough to really get the excitement of things and are no longer floppy and boring.  Given this recent musculature development in my child I was able to do things I could never do before like carry him in one arm while he was upright, extend him over the younger elementary school children so he could see the Polar Bears, and of course, to ride him on my shoulders.

The ironic thing is that when it happened I was actually ducking for cover as a flock of geese had let loose a bombardment of excrement my way.  As it was a warm summers day and my propensity to sweat were both in full force I didn’t think anything of it for a few moments.  You would have thought that the smell would have triggered my brain but as many of you may know breastfed babies poo really does not smell at all.

It wasn’t until I felt it running down my collarbone and belly that I realized something was wrong.  The blowout was occuring upon my neck and, being a concerned father, I had baby squished right against me as to prevent any possible falling.  The waterfall of yellow seed blowout diarrhea poo was upon me, covering my entire torso and neck.

Aside from the misery of the lengthy trip home, wiping myself off with diaper wipes in a public place, and the knowledge that I was a terrible replacement for a diaper at least I can take solace in the fact that I wasn’t the only thing that was shat upon that trip.  Wifey got a hairful of goose!

Watch Out – I’m Silent But Deadly

April 19, 2012 1 comment
You know that pivotal moment when you need to fart in public and you try to judge whether it is going to be stank nasty or whether it will be completely scentless?  Its a scary thing.  You can think about the scent of your recent farts or even what you have eaten the past 24 hours, but you never really know what is going to happen.  It seems completely random, doesn’t it?  One moment you’ll be farting clean, odorless gas and then you let another one slide and it completely fouls up the entire office!
 
Why is there so much variation in the smell of one’s gas and why does the stink vary even in people who are eating practically the same meals every day?  Well, I took to googling it and stumbled upon an insightful article by Men’s Fitness.  Here is an excerpt that I think answers our question:

“Every person has a slightly different collection of bacteria and yeasts in their gut, and each organism contributes a slightly different nuance to the overall fragrance and volume of gas. Just as a fine wine keeps the palate stimulated with a variety of taste “notes,” each person’s unique batch of intestinal organisms lends shading to the stench of their farts. Your roommate (and my brother, apparently) simply have a collection of organisms that produce a horrid, malodorous, voluminous reek.”

So it is completely random!  If you are one of those people that has a collection of organismis that produce a horrid, malodorous, voluminous reek (like myself), then you are just screwed for life.  But my favorite thing about the article is that it offers a bit of hope at the end in a new product:

“In 1997, Chester Weimer was granted patent No. 5593398 entitled “Protective underwear with malodorous flatus filter.” The undergarment has a pocket on the rear that has a replaceable activated charcoal packet, which the subject farts through. The sound and odor are muffled by passage through the filter. I’d suggest buying a pair for your roommate and see if they work. If they do, you’ll be living in a more fart-free environment. If they don’t you will have a hilarious story to tell your friends. Either way it’s win-win for you.”

I have to get me some of these underwears

Farting in Public – To Shame or to Be Ashamed?

I was in the bus the other day on my way to work.  At the moment I was enjoying some Words With Friends time.  Quick side note – how awesome is Words With Friends?  It has the whole world playing one of my favorite games which is Scrabble.  While I have been playing Scrabble online for about 11 years, I finally have many friends to play against and subsequently destroy over and over.  It’s a great pride booster. 
 
But I digress.  I was on my way home when suddenly the air filled with putrid butt-raunched gas.  Someone had effectively dropped a fart bomb in complete stealth mode – there was no indication as to who was the culprit and where they were sitting.  I could tell that everyone wanted to look around and sniff the individual out.  But we didn’t.  You know why?  Because society would have you believe that it’s more appropriate to pretend nothing happened then to divulge the perpetrator.  Society would have you believe that if you can squeeze one out silently, you don’t have to own up to it.  It’s that kind of behavior that leads people to commit crimes and other people to pretend they aren’t happening. 
I think we should have to own up to our farts – in public or private.  Clothing manufacturers should be required by law to line our pants with a special chemical that emits a purple glow when touched by human fart air.  Then we would all just have to accept that we fart and, empowered with knowledge, we could move away from the person who has fouled our breathing supply.  It might lead us all to eat better to avoid farting.  It might lead to more mercy and patience with our fellow men and women.  I think this could really change the human race for good.
 
HSSS, you a genius.

Beans Aren’t Always to Blame

The good name of beans are always getting kicked around in the mud.  These poor little beads of deliciousness are accustomed to taking the blame for all that air that explodes from your anus.  They even have a product named after them – Beano – which helps you mitigate farts when eating food.  I can’t help but wonder why they have been singled out as the culprit for gas?  I mean, I won’t sit here and deny that beans make you fart.  They do.  But in the world of air creating food products, beans hardly make a dent in my gastronomical list of nightmares.  Having discussed this with many individuals, I have also learned that we all have unique bodies, and fart triggering food differs from person to person.

For example, I quickly learned that pizza gives me mad gas.  Not vegetable pizza or meat pizza – just pizza.  I don’t know if it is the sugary marinara sauce or the carbs from the crust, but any night I have a pizza party, I eventually start dropping gas bombs at every turn.  It’s an immediate reaction.  Sugar in general seems to be a trigger – especially if I consume a lot of soda in a day.  I have learned that the reason why I farted so much in high school and college was because I had about 66oz of Mountain Dew a day.  That converted to about 300+ farts per 24 hour period. 

But my biggest nemesis?  GRANOLA CEREALS.  Granola (or even worst, Cracklin’ Oat Bran) will literally convert my intestinal track into a weapon of mass destruction.  Not only is the air compact and explosive, but it is coupled with a smell that would even offend the walking dead.  It is heavy and lingers, and sticky so it attaches to your clothes.  It’s almost humid enough to frizz out your hair if you walk by.  You really don’t want to be around me for a day after I eat granola cereal.

What sets your butt off?

Pregnancy Made Me Do The Sickest Thing I Have Ever Done…

April 6, 2012 6 comments

Not the sickest thing I have ever done.  I personally have never done anything as sick as the story I am about to tell.  A relative recently had a baby (who is freakin’ adorable, I might add).  She toughed out the labor and delivery like a champ without any epidural.  Unfortunately, there was some ripping.  My guess is there was a lot of ripping, and tearing, and stitches.  If any of you have had a wife have a baby, or given birth yourself, then you know that the weeks following birth are a bit sensitive.

Enter constipation.  The crappy thing about giving birth and pregnancy is that it puts your body out of whack in a major way.  This woman, who was already proned to constipation, became über constipated.  One day she called me, only to have this conversation:

Relative:  “I’ve been doing the sickest thing I have ever done.”

Me:  “What’s that?”

Relative:  “You know how I have been really constipated?  Well, I didn’t want to push to hard and pop a stitch, so I just decided to reach up there and pull the poo out.”

Me:  “So are you telling me you stuck your finger up your butt and dug your crap out?  Was it squishy?”

Relative:  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.  It wasn’t squishy though.  It was so hard that my finger barely made a dent in each nugget.  I had to dig in there all the way up to my knuckles to get something out.  I have actually done this about five times!  No matter how many times I wash my hands after, but finger smells like poo!”

Me:  “Why don’t you wear rubber gloves?”

Relative:  “AH CRAP I didn’t think about that!”

Seriously.  She has been digging her crap out with her bare fingers.  It is amazing what having a baby will cause you to do, all for the love of a child.  I wasn’t judging though – I could see her predicament.  I’m just glad I have never had to do anything that nasty.

Only a Man Would Understand

I don’t think this picture requires much explanation, unless you are a woman…then there is a good chance you just don’t get it.

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