No milk, will ever be, our milk.

nm

[This message has been edited by Arminius (edited 3/29/2011 12:54p).]

Long post is long...

Just got got back from the honeymoon. This is the closest I've ever come to violating international law in the pursuit of relief from the trouser groundhog.

We decided that since my wife is a teacher, that a 5 day cruise during Spring Break would be a good option for our honeymoon. This is the story of day 3.

I'm fairly regular, and usually you can set your watch to the consistent timing of my grogan sessions. Generally speaking, I arrive at work between 7:15 and 7:30 each day. Right after this, I consume the large mug of coffee that I bring with me to work each day, and between 7:55-8:15 or so, you can find me in the handicap stall in the bathroom on my floor, playing one of 5 iPhong games that I rotate through, mid-way through a leg cramp.

Fast forward to Wednesday. It had been 2.5 days since my last grogan/angry birds session (Mid-afternooon Saturday, for those keeping score at home). We had spent Monday/Tuesday on the ship, basically just chillin at the pool, drinking bargain 8 dollar beers, and consuming mass amounts of healthy food such as cheeseburgers, burritos, and nachos. We were scheduled to be off the cruise ship at 8 am, and leaving for our excursion in the Bahamas at 8:30 am.

Right after a satisfying breakfast of french toast and fried eggs, I realize that today is the day my grogan drought ends. Being that it was 7:45 am, I realized that I did not have time to take care of bidness before getting off the cruise ship, and convince myself I can make it to 9 am, when we would be at our destination with access to the appropriate facilities.

At approximately 7:55 am, as we are in line to get off the ship, my intestines inform me that there has been a change in plans. I inform my wife that I will be back, with the thought that an emergency 2-minute machine-gun session at one of the public restrooms on the cruise ship would provide me enough relief to make it to our final destination. I visit 3 of these public-restrooms on the ship, with each and every GD one having ALL of the stalls occupied. My mind flashes to the idea of going back to the room, but I know realistically I cannot make it there and back by the time our excursion leaves, and by God, I will be attending the excursion I paid good money for. I convince myself that I will make it, and exit the ship with my wife.

This brings us to approx 8:10 am. After walking around the port and contemplating everything from 1) breaking into the shack that has to have a restroom, 2) jumping into the water and sheeting there, and 3) sheeting my pants and changing into the spare set of shorts I brought, we finally start walking away from the cruise ship. I inform my wife to make a bee line to the front, which we do. Though my vision is blurred at this point, and sweating has begun, I notice off in the distance our destination, approximately 250 yards away. Now 250 yards doesn't sound like a lot until you are one casually mis-placed step away from being labeled a biohazard and banned for life from Carnival cruise lines.

We finally make it to the building, and through a combination of curses and grunts, I ask the guide if there was a restroom inside the facility. Praise God, there is! I guess he could hear me speaking in tongues, for he let me in before anyone else, and I make a bee-line for the men's room. The janitor is inside, says something to me, though I run to the stall and begin the all too familiar routine of closing the stall door/un-buttoning the pants/getting my azz on the toilet in one smooth motion (later on, it would appear he started with, "you can't go in there mon"... and realized that man law #423-b applied in this situation, which states 'no man shall ever get in the way of another man who is seconds away from sheeting himself')

I spend what seemed like hours (but was really about 10 minutes) excercising the demons that are 2 days of cruise food and booze with no relief. After exiting the stall I am too ashamed to look the janitor in the eye and simply mutter "sorry", wash my hands, and exit the facility.

It turns out, while taking care of business, the entire 250+ people had already boarded the boat that was going to our excursion, and were seconds away from departing without us. Somehow, and I have still yet to figure out how she did it, my wife and stalled the guide, and we sprint to the boat (another 200 yards away or so), just making it before it leaves without us.

That, ladies and gentlemen, was the closest that I've ever come to sheeting myself in my adult life.

[This message has been edited by tamuags08 (edited 3/29/2011 2:40p).]

i salute your discipline and sphincter control

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one casually mis-placed step away from being labeled a biohazard and banned for life from Carnival cruise lines.

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somebody left a kid's (cartoons) toothbrush and travel toothpaste in the men's bathroom at the office this afternoon, just sitting on the sink completely unprotected from whatever terrible things are floating around in there

for tamuags08


call me for your next cruise and I will make it more memorable than that grogan session.
/sales pitch

^
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The banner ad monkeys are working their magic - Windstar cruises is/was pitching their line below while I was reading the above...

Let's just say that any cruises I book in the future, I will damn sure have 2-3 cups of coffee the morning of excursion stops, at least 1-2 hours in advance.

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After exiting the stall I am too ashamed to look the janitor in the eye and simply mutter "sorry", wash my hands, and exit the facility.

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Whenever you do happen to make eye contact with the next poor soul for the john, it is an extremely awkward situation

Dude in the stall next to me dropped a load and didn't wash his hands. I work in a place where people are constantly meeting each other and shaking hands.

Do you really need to wash your hands if you don't get **** on them? I mean, so far the only one on this thread stupid enough to get **** all over thier hands was.... um, oh wait...

Touche.

Hahahaha!! Just pushed out my morning turd and damned if it didn't form to make an almost perfect question mark! Upside down mind you, but still. Even had a little turd dot resting at the bottom to complete the effect. Today, is gonna be a good day!

Is it?

http://www.cracked.com/article_19121_7-basic-things-you-wont-believe-youre-all-doing-wrong.html?utm_source=facebook&utm_medium=fanpage&utm_campaign=new+article&wa_ibsrc=fanpage

#7

I was first introduced to that concept a while ago.. But it just looks a little weird to me.

I have even seen celebrity endorsments of products by people like Madonna.

I went three times in the last 12 hours after 3 days without going. I lost about 5 pounds. I attribute it to getting sick on Friday and starting an antibiotic, and being back at work and my normal "routine" today, which includes coffee and a handicap bathroom.

I started my normal week of work as usual, but with the exception that it was preceded by a weekend of heavy beer drinking (all dark beer at that), pizza eating saturday, and barbecue eating on sunday without a grogan to be had.

As it turns out, the combination of beer, pizza, and barbecue when left to fester for no less than 2 days causes a normal grogan to evolve into a groganosaurus rex (a G-Rex for the spelling impaired).

No sooner than I finished my normal mug of coffee on the way to work, I hit the cripple stool and unleash the beast of beasts into the freshly cleaned porcelain throne. This thing was big, it felt like it had sharp teeth, and growled pretty damned loud.

I ended up having to put a toilet paper "X" across the seat to let the next poor sucker know not to use that unit as there was no plunger to be found (and the beast probably would have ate it anyways).

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groganosaurus rex (a G-Rex for the spelling impaired).

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and

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a toilet paper "X"

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groganosaurus rex

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i just watched marley and me over the weekend, i swear i giggled a bit everytime they said owen wilsons last name.

grogan hah.

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groganosaurus rex

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cripple stool

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underrated

At the Galleria, there is a Memorial Hermann play area on the second floor near Borders. They also sponsored an upgrade to the area nearby including a mother's nursing room, lounge and of course, restrooms...

What's the purpose of the wavy seat on the shorter john?

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What's the purpose of the wavy seat on the shorter john?

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Grippers for the super fats so they don't slide off?

I'm guessing handles for little tykes who have yet to master the art of the grogan.

1500

Apparently somebody else on my floor reads TexAgs or this is an item of bathroom etiquette I haven't heard of.

I spotted this just after lunch today:


Needless to say, I opted out of occupying that particular stall...

You ever have grogans that give you goosebumps?


What's that all about?


Does that mean your ghey?

I stumbled across this thread and have been working my way through it - on p15 or so thus far, but figured I'd throw in my two cents.

On the "mid-pee flusher" - some of us have firehose-like pressure. Without a waterfall curtain to absorb the stream, serious splashback will occur. Microscopic droplets are preferred to visible droplets. Not gonna walk out of the bathroom looking like some dude sneezed on my crotch. Depending on the urinal, this method is not always necessary. If the contour is right, you can just ride the curve to the drain. Anything with a flat back or near right-angles is bad news, as are unrinals that are too curvy (like the ones in some portajohns). I've actually peed on myself after a few beers - wasn't paying attention to the extreme curvature in a portajohn and was attempting to ride the curve, only to have the stream go in, loop around the back, and ride the opposite curve right back out onto my shorts. Awesome.

Unzipping your pants to pee. Necessary if your undrwear doesn't have a d-hole. I work in a heavy industrial setting and am around extreme heat all day. Cotton boxer-briefs lead to extreme swamp-nuttiness, even with hardwood floors and Gold Bond (BTW, try the Equate version - half the price and every bit as good, IMO). A friend who played college baseball introduced me to compression shorts - basically spandex-ish boxer-briefs that breathe and dry very rapidly. Drawback is no d-hole for the trouser snake. Have to unzip and unfurl.

On getting caught in a "sticky" situation. Two workds. PSYLLIUM FIBER. Not going into details other than to say that it is described as a "bulking laxative." I know the l-word scares some people, but it's the complete opposite of the D&D bathroom scene. Think nice neat little ping-pong ball sized packages where only a square or two is necessary for clean up. Again, Equate has a good one - take about 6 in the morning and you're good to go for 24 hours. Being the recent victim of a stomach ulcer, I have, unfortunately, reverted back to times of old while trying to heal this thing. Not fun and the lack of freshness back there is soul crushing. If I can save just one sticky taint out there, my job has been done.