💾 Archived View for spam.works › mirrors › textfiles › messages › fuckyouf.txt captured on 2023-06-16 at 19:11:26.
View Raw
More Information
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Uncensored Transcripts from the MindVox "Fuck-You" Forum
Compiled and Moderated by Jim Felcher
Introduction
Computer geeks have a reputation for being dull, asexual, or repressed. And yet, paradoxically,
on most computer networks you'll have a hard time finding anyone who shows any inhibitions
at all.
It seems that the shyness of nerds lasts only so long as they're interacting with real people in
the real world. As soon as they get online, it's a very different story. Just as a mild-mannered
family man can turn into a horn-honking monster when he finds himself behind the wheel of
an automobile, the most repressed computer user can turn into a confrontational, ranting
maniac on a bulletin board system (BBS).
In fact, electronic text tends to make everyone loosen up. The medium is so ephemeral, so
insubstantial, it imposes no penalty, no self-limiting feedback, no need for self-restraint. Angry
diatribes are common enough that net-heads have coined the term "flame" to describe them,
while bad manners are so frequent, they are often ignored and easily forgotten.
When I first started exploring the net, I became fascinated by the way it tempted users to be
bold and revelatory. Everyone had an opinion, people flirted with each other compulsively, and
many online identities were colorful or outrageous. It occurred to me that there was a window,
here, into levels of the human condition that are normally hidden. With this in mind, I devised a
plan.
I sampled various bulletin boards in the New York area and settled on one named MindVox as
the ideal site for the experiment that I had in mind. MindVox had been established in 1991 by
Patrick Kroupa and Bruce Fancher, two ex-hackers who decided to go legitimate after they saw
many of their friends hauled off to jail. For Kroupa and Fancher, however, "legitimate" was a
relative concept, and they retained a mind set rooted in rebellion. Their BBS featured a huge
electronic library full of useful tips on subjects ranging from computer fraud to illegal drugs.
MindVox imposed no "code of conduct" on their members, and as a result, it soon attracted a
hardcore group of nonconformists who took full advantage of the hands-off management
policy.
I asked Fancher if he would be willing to set up an area of the system where people would be
encouraged to discuss the most offensive or disgusting topics imaginable. In this forum, there
would be no hint of moral censure. Anyone could say anything, and no one would disapprove. I
would serve as the moderator, but I would not be moderate. I would make brutally frank
confessions of my own so that people would feel it was safe and legitimate to follow my
example.
Fancher sat down at a terminal in the MindVox office. "I can create the forum for you right now,"
he said. "What do you want to call it?"
I hadn't thought about that.
"How about the Fuck-You Forum?" said Fancher. I laughed. "Okay."
He rattled off a few Unix commands at his keyboard. "And what do you want your name to be?"
"Felcher," I said, naming myself after the most disgusting sex act I could think of. "Jim Felcher."
(For a full explanation, see post number 90, below.)
"Okay, it's done." Bruce Fancher pushed the keyboard aside. "Log on and make an initial post to
describe what you want the forum to be."
I hesitated. "You don't think this should be, you know, restricted access?"
Fancher gestured dismissively. "Our standard agreement requires everyone to state that they're
over eighteen. I'm not worried."
So there it was: I now had my own little area of MindVox.
I went home to my computer and spent a while composing the initial post, which I uploaded
into the system. From that precise moment, each time a user who had participated other forums
logged on, he or she was confronted with a prompt that said, "A new forum has been created
named Fuck-You.
Would you like to join it?"
How would the MindVox clientele react to this unusual invitation? Within minutes, responses
started coming in. When I checked half an hour later, I found almost thirty posts. Clearly, the
"Fuck-You" forum had struck a nerve.
During the days that followed, the pace slackened off a bit but the content of the posts became
more serious and revelatory. At first, people had traded anecdotes and off-color jokes. Now
they were talking more about themselves, making the kinds of confessions that are normally
heard only by police officers, therapists, or priests.
A surprising variety of people (both male and female) chose to participate. Usually, forums on
computer bulletin boards tend to settle down to half-a-dozen regulars trading small fragments
of information, while many more "lurkers" (as they are known) casually browse through the text
and never bother to contribute anything. But the "Fuck-You" forum tempted maybe a hundred
different people to participate, and some of their posts were long, elaborate, and meticulously
detailed.
Almost all the confessions seemed genuine. And in the electronic medium, no one was ashamed.
As I write this, three months later, we seem to have reached a plateau. Most of the definitively
shocking stories have been told, and the forum is relatively dormant, with only an occasional
newcomer stumbling across it and adding a word or two. Still, I can look back over a rich
harvest: close to 800 posts all told.
After I had started the "Fuck-You" forum, I learned that there's a Usenet news group on the
Internet named alt.tasteless. At first sight, its contents seem similar; yet there is a very different
underlying intention. The "Fuck-You" forum was set up for people to say awful things about
themselves and still be accepted by their peers. The alt.tasteless news group is more of an
exercise in causing offense. In many of the posts the writers actually seem to hope for a
negative response, and the content seems exaggerated or totally fabricated.
I'm biased, of course, but I feel that the "Fuck-You" forum has a greater sense of conviction and
sincerity.
Here, then, is my selection of the best from "Fuck-You." The text has been edited only to correct
a few misspellings and errors in punctuation. Signature lines, subject lines, and quoted sections
from earlier posts have been omitted in order to save space. No other changes have been made.
From 750 posts, 140 have been selected. A complete list of the original 750 appears at the end
of this little book.
Contributors to the forum were asked to notify me if they objected to their posts being
reprinted. No one did. Of course, people weren't writing under their real names, but bear in
mind that an "online" name is no guarantee of anonymity. The user of a BBS is known by his or
her online name in all areas of the system, and very often will still use the name if (s)he meets
fellow users in the real world. To take one example, when simonm described his habit of
regularly drinking his own urine, he was fully aware that at least a dozen other MindVox users
were likely to see him face-to-face during the following couple of weeks, and he knew that most
of them would have read what he had written.
So, most of the anecdotes and confessions that you'll find below were at least semi-public, and
in some cases they were totally public.
Some people may see this text merely as a source of entertainment. Some may regard it as a sad
commentary on the sickness of human beings in twentieth-century America. Others may
complain that it's a pointless exercise in filth.
To me, all of these responses miss the point. Without wanting to get too pretentious about it,
the "Fuck-You" forum was an attempt to uncover some basic psychic truth: the truth of the id
as opposed to the ego.
I'm happy to report that this attempt was entirely successful. --Jim Felcher
P.S. If you would like to see the complete, unedited annals of the Fuck-You forum, or if you're
interested in contributing to it yourself, this is very easily done. To connect with MindVox, set
your modem to N,8,1 and dial (212) 989-4141 or (212) 645-8441 (or telnet to phantom.com).
Prompts on the screen will guide you from there.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 1
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Tue, 03 May 94 00:21:36 EDT
Have you ever used vomit as vaginal lubricant? Do you know what your own shit tastes like?
How about other people's shit? Do you fantasize about handcuffing, bludgeoning, and urinating
on members of a particular ethnic minority? Have you pondered the useful and interesting ways
that you might exploit the suck reflex of a 6-month-old infant?
This is a forum for serious discussion and study of offensive ideas, speech, and behavior.
If you're going to post here, make sure it is truly *inventive* and imaginative in its exploration
of _bonafide hard-core offensiveness_.
Schoolyard humor or sick jokes will be viewed as filler. Postings that induce shock, outrage, or a
physical gag reflex will be encouraged. True confessions of sociopathic acts will be especially
valued.
If you think this is a juvenile, pathetic waste of time . . . if you're concerned that young children
may be harmed by this shit . . . if you think this is encouraging the kind of low-life behavior that
has already tainted this BBS to an unhealthy degree . . . then fuck you!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 5
From: tomwhore (Baron Love Sexy)
Date: Tue, 03 May 94 00:31:44 EDT
/me makes room on the couch
So once I heard from a friend of a friend This friend worked at a mental ward. One of the kids
there had this habit, a good one at that. He could pull his asshole out about six or seven inches,
sorta just go in there and pull it out with his shit encrusted fingers.
Sometimes he would let it dangle out his pants, other times he would play with it. Once, so I
hear, he couldn't put it back. He had stretched it out to such a degree it simply wouldn't snap
back.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 8
From: slowdog (eraserhead)
Date: Tue, 03 May 94 00:39:47 EDT
When I was in HS, there was this girl life guard at the swimming pool in the apartment complex
where I lived. She delighted in telling us stories.
One was of this couple, going at it in her dorm room. He moved and went down on her, really
eating her out.
He had also just recently eaten a whole lot of pizza and promptly vomited all over her pussy.
Just thought I'd share.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 13
From: microdot (NO CARRIER)
Date: Tue, 03 May 94 00:39:04 EDT
I have lurked for a while, and am quite encouraged by the folks I find. I've accepted myself as a
zoo and have had the wonderful good fortune to have a zoo for a spouse. I enjoy reading this
group tremendously for the attitudes and sharing I see. Eleven years ago, I discovered my zoo
tendencies somewhat accidentally. I was 19, living at home with my parents, attending a local
Junior College. My folks went on a trip and left me and Rowdy to care for the house. I also was
caring for the neighbors' dog while they were out of town. Although Rowdy is very protective
(aren't all German Shepherds?), he was the friendliest animal you could imagine. This particular
day, I spent about an hour next door. Feeding, watering, and playing with the neighbors' dog
(who was in season and confined). I noticed when I unlocked my door, Rowdy was unusually
enthusiastic when I greeted him. I went upstairs to my room and jumped in the shower. When I
came out, I sat on the bed to blow dry my hair. Rowdy pushed his body between my legs and put
his head in my lap, like he usually did when he wanted to be petted, but this time, he wouldn't
be still for me to pet him. As Rowdy bucked around and finally grabbed my leg and started
humping, I noticed his penis sticking out from its sheath. Ever the curious one, I pushed him
back to get a better look at it. That's when he put his nose in my crotch and gave me a glorious
lick. Wow! Then, he grabbed my leg again and resumed his humping. At first, I was startled.
Then, I figured out that the smell of the female was on my jeans and Rowdy was *excited!* I had
the craziest thought . . . why not? I had heard of women who had dogs as love mates, but I had
never considered Rowdy. I loved him like one of the family, but he was obviously in such a state
. . . I decided to give him a try . . . just to see how far he would go. I got down on the carpet on all
fours and instead of jumping on top of me, he went after my sex with his tongue. That tongue
of his really rang my bell quickly but was a little intense. I tried to get him onto my back, but
those nails of his convinced me that there had to be a better way. I got up and turned to face
him in a squatting position. I put the center of my back against the side of the bed and as I
leaned back, I pulled the big lug on top of me, with his rear end between my thighs. He really
didn't know what to do as I lay there with him hovering over me. He was so close, I could feel
the soft tip of his cock pushing into my crotch. I reached under him and started to stroke and
guide his penis. Within a few strokes, he connected with my vagina. He partially entered me and
started going 90 mph. His cock was so hot! He worked his paws a bit around my waist and with
his tremendous strength, was actually pulling me onto his penis with each stroke. Once he had
penetrated me, I felt a large bump push into my vagina. Then his penis started to grow! It was
painful at first, but there was no stopping him at this point. I felt his huge cock almost in the pit
of my stomach and I was so *full!* I felt absolutely impaled on his long cock and was loving
every minute of it. He slobbered all over my breasts while humping me and brought me to
several orgasms. While he was in me, I could feel an awesome throbbing as he pumped his load.
After a while, he started doing a dance with his hind feet and his penis deflated enough to pull
out of me. I was in shock and in heaven at the same time. He licked me clean and then curled up
at the base of the bed. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoy sharing with people
of similar interests. I like reading about others' experiences also so I hope you other lurkers will
join me in posting. Carolyn (Skytravelr)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 29
From: catfood (-[erase]-)
Date: Tue, 03 May 94 03:28:25 EDT
I suppose we should get some elementary tips outta the way early on: Waders (the type you
normally use when you're, say, trout fishing) are useful to have while doing sheep, so you'll have
somewhere to stuff their rear legs.
Young calves will nurse on just about anything.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 30
From: geekus (NO CAREER)
Date: Tue, 03 May 94 08:42:38 EDT
once upon a time, i was transmitted a nice, nongonhorreal infection from this cute brazilian
skankpot named ruth. at first, i had the vaguest sense that my penis itched--from the inside.
within a couple of days, it felt like my dick was on fire. pissing had become downright painful,
so it was with great dread that i went into the bathroom. i waddled up to the toilet and
unhitched. looking down i thought, hey, who left the baklava in my shorts? then it occurred to
me, hey, that's not flaky, gooey pastry with nuts, that's my pecker.
you're welcome.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 31
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Tue, 03 May 94 11:14:30 EDT
I see that someone has "fingered" me, revealing the fact that I have no previous experience here
on MindVox. I hope this won't cause anger and resentment.
For several years I have been a member of another well-known online service. But I never felt
able to express myself with sufficient freedom. When I was complaining about this to a friend
who is well acquainted with the owners of MindVox, he suggested that I could find a new home
here.
My qualification for this task consists of lifelong experience and fascination with disgusting and
offensive behavior. Believe me, I have many stories to tell.
Since response to this forum has been so swift and positive, I would like to propose a monthly
"Filth Award" to the person who makes the most memorable post in each of these categories:
1. Most nauseating anecdote
2. Most interesting perversion
3. Most original insult
Should there be additional award categories that I haven't thought of?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 32
From: galt (Skenderbeg)
Date: Tue, 03 May 94 11:41:28 EDT
Heard while I was stationed at Ft. Bragg: "Shut up, you clit-muscled faggot."
And one personally penned by my best friend: "Go to hell, you flaming one-eyed butt weasel."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 33
From: galt (Skenderbeg)
Date: Tue, 03 May 94 11:45:02 EDT
Story, heard from a friend of a friend of a friend: Once upon a time this high school lad and his
high-school GF were enjoying an intimate moment at his house, in the afternoon, in the magical
time between the end of school and when your parents come home from work. He had her in
the basement, just in case the folks came home. Anyway, he was butt-fucking her ferociously.
Suddenly his mother walked in on them. He pulled out suddenly in surprise. When he did, the
young lass spewed the contents of her colon upon his genitals. When he looked down and saw
this, he became nauseated and vomited all over her back.
The End.
What I really want to know is . . . what happened after that, with this poor naked young girl
kneeling on the ground, covered with vomit, having just shat all over this woman's son? I can't
think of anything to say in that situation.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 44
From: nirvana (Squared Infinity)
Date: Tue, 03 May 94 19:29:30 EDT
A friend of mine has a friend that goes to NYU (girl) and the friend was going out with her BF
that night leaving her roommate in the dorm alone . . . she told the roommate that she was
going out for the night and she would be back around 3 in the morning . . . The girl left with her
BF but then remembered she forgot her ID which she needed to get back in later on . . . she
wasted about 10 minutes talking to friends she ran into downstairs before she actually got
around going back up to her room . . . when she got there before she opened the door she heard
a loud humming . . . she opened the door only to be greeted by her roommate jerking off with a
vacuum cleaner that was on . . . worse yet she kept on fucking herself with the vacuum cleaner
since she didn't hear her roommate come in due to the noise. The girl that came in snuck up on
her roommate and jumped in front of her saying
boo!
really loud. The girl's BF was in the room watching the spectacle at this point and laughing also .
. . The girl masturbating with the vacuum cleaner jumped up and started to scream which made
people from other dorm rooms emerge and come in to the room. The girl was naked and just
managed to turn the vacuum cleaner off by the time a small crowd had gathered around the
opened door to see what all the screaming was about . . . The girl that was masturbating began
to cry hysterically and threw everyone out of the room and began to dress and pack all her stuff
up . . . 10 minutes later she left the dorm and later on the next day requested a new dorm
assignment . . . My friend's friend never saw the girl again . . . they had never been that close but
that was definitely the end of that friendship. In a matter of speaking . . . it was sucked up!
/me slaps myself for corniness (hey! . . . I had to say it!)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 45
From: tomwhore (Baron Love Sexy)
Date: Tue, 03 May 94 19:53:10 EDT
Some things I heard today out of the corner of my ear. "You vaginal blood fart"
". . . she was riding the cotton pony . . . " ". . . sand paper tongue in a canker sour world" My all
time fave, while not being too gross, is a line from 2 Jakes "In a town of lepers, I'm the man with
the most fingers."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 54
From: teknikl (John Bigboote)
Date: Tue, 03 May 94 21:52:25 EDT
One of my girlfriend's friends came over once to visit us. She complained that her eyes were
bothering her.
My GF Christy went into a little speech about how you should wash off your mascara (she
doesn't wear makeup but her friend does) very night to be sure you don't get an eye infection.
So our friend goes to the bathroom and washes her eyes really well. But still they were itchy. She
runs her fingernail across the edge of her eye and pulls out what she thinks is a bit of eye
boogers.
Instead, and to her great horror, she sees that she has a small insect on the tip of her finger. A
"crab" actually.
That's when she saw that she had quite a few of them crawling around near the edge of her eye
socket.
That's when she started to freak.
Long story short: hospital, embarrassed, black eyes for two weeks.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 61
From: bobm (Needs an agent)
Date: Tue, 03 May 94 23:37:15 EDT
I used to work with a woman who'd say, "You'd suck the cum out of a dead faggot's asshole."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 62
From: nicki (substitute hero)
Date: Tue, 03 May 94 23:50:13 EDT
"You're as ugly as a bucketful of twisted assholes" And it gets even better when I tell you that I
learned that expression from my best friend's 85-year-old grandmother.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 65
From: mdreyfus (UBERMENSCH)
Date: Wed, 04 May 94 01:22:48 EDT
When I was about 8 years old, I used to let my dog, Sugar (a toy collie) lick my penis before I got
in the shower . . . she would come up and sniff it and then lick at it, kind of flicking it with her
tongue . . . then as I got older, I used to get down on all fours and let her lick my ass clean after
a shit or after one of those sweaty days that make your crack feel all grody and slippery . . . she
licked it as if she was cleaning her own asshole, I mean, not really voraciously licking, but kind
of timid . . . she would take couple of licks and make this little face and smack her lips and
tongue a bit and then continue . . . oh, I forgot, my mom caught me when I was 8 letting Sugar
lick my penis . . . the embarrassment has yet to be rivaled . . . not to mention the guilt trip and
screaming and yelling . . . .
this is a TRUE telling . . . and I don't have to lie by using the "I have this friend . . . " method.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 70
From: mdreyfus (UBERMENSCH)
Date: Wed, 04 May 94 01:41:22 EDT
Has anyone ever watched film footage of a massacre in Rwanda or anywhere else and had the
urge to laugh? I don't mean the laugh like the laughter at a funeral which is attributed to a
mental desire to not deal with death, but I mean really laugh because you think it is really funny
to watch these spear chuckers whack each other to death . . . I mean, imagine it . . . a bunch of
half-or maybe full-crazed tribal types rampaging through towns slicing away with their
machetes . . . maybe the white South Africans wish this would happen to their spear chucker
rulers.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 76
From: mdreyfus (UBERMENSCH)
Date: Wed, 04 May 94 01:54:55 EDT
The most outrageous porno scene I've seen is one shot on film from the mid-seventies . . . this
girl seduces a truckload of about seven to eight garbage men who take her behind some big
buildings to a medium sized garbage dump and lay her on a heap of garbage, masturbate in a
circle, and then ejaculate on her face (yes, each of them in turn) and then leave her lying there
with her literally cum drenched face on that pile of trash . . . I am sure there have been more
bizarre, but I just found quite striking the image of her, the pile of garbage, all that spooj, the
happy garbage men leaving her there on her back on that pile and driving off . . . (and then
those feminists types always agitate that women should be treated equally and with respect . . .
.humph . . . this film proves women wanna be treated like shit!)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 86
From: lee96 (Lee96)
Date: Wed, 04 May 94 09:23:30 EDT
I'm surprised that no one mentioned the (deceased) king of gross yet [G.G.Allin]. Among other
things, he's: shoved a banana up his ass and shit it back out in front of a horrified NYU
audience; given his own brother a blow- job on stage; fucked a dead cat; and many more great
spectacles which have fortunately been captured on video . . .
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 87
From: geekus (NO CAREER)
Date: Wed, 04 May 94 10:53:17 EDT
okay, not to be outdone, i am still angling for mostest yucky anecdote. this is a continuation of
my previous post (what follows took place at the free sexually transmitted disease clinic in santa
monica, california):
so after a couple of days of this baklava leaving a different colored crust du jour in my shorts, i
go to the std clinic. my turn comes and so i'm standing in an examination room peeling my
penis off my briefs when this really mean, miserably-dissatisfied-with-her-life doctor comes in.
we discuss symptoms for a bit, then she sits on a stool, face to face with my greg peck. "open it,"
she says. "huh, wha?!?" "open it," she repeats, glaring and making a sort of moses parting the red
sea motion with her fingers. so i do the best that i can, and before i can complete the thought
"that thing's not meant to be opened," she's jammed a metal swab into my urethra and is
twirling it around. all events and sensations beyond this point are blurred, though these
memories will probably all unrepress when i'm 80, driving my neue pinto 2000 on the jersey
turnpike. i'll slam on the brakes and get rear ended by a tractor trailer hauling soylent clear up
to rochester.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 89
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Wed, 04 May 94 13:24:28 EDT
Long ago and far away, I was struck by the possibility of the "ultimate blow job," which might be
achieved with the aid of a vacuum cleaner. The regular tube on the cleaner was rather narrow,
unclean, and rough on the inside, so I made myself an extension: a cardboard tube lined with a
Baggie and lubricated with Vaseline Intensive Care Lotion.
When my organ was suitably hard I inserted it in the tube and switched on the cleaner. Jesus
Christ! This was one of the most intense and terrifying experiences of my life! I discovered in
fact that the suction drew my penis out to about fifty percent more than its usual length. At the
same time, however, it became frighteningly thin. Fortunately I reached an intense orgasm very
quickly, and withdrew. But my organ dangled lower, and looked skinnier, for days afterward.
Also, the vacuum cleaner started smelling of old semen and Vaseline Intensive Care Lotion,
which I found hard to explain to other members of my immediate family.
Don't try this at home, kids!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 90
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Wed, 04 May 94 13:25:28 EDT
Since a few degenerates on this forum have brought up the matter of my name, let me now
address this unfortunate issue.
The verb "to felch" was coined, I believe, by motorcycle gang members in the 1960s. It describes
a perversion in which a person licks semen out of another person's anus (the semen having
been deposited there during a sex act performed previously by a third party).
I have often wondered if the unfortunate meaning of my name is the reason I have had such a
lifelong obsession with dirty, disgusting behavior. Hardly a week goes by without a phone call
from some drunk or pervert, asking me "Are you a Felcher?" When I reply in the affirmative, the
person at the other end of the line invariably says, "Then lick my ass!"
It's really very tiresome. Since there are in fact a number of people named Felcher in any large
city, I do hope that MindVox members will refrain from telephoning them and uttering similar
obscenities.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 93
From: bobm (Needs an agent)
Date: Wed, 04 May 94 20:14:13 EDT
geekus (NO CAREER) writes:
before i can complete the thought "that thing's not meant to be opened," she's jammed a
metal swab into my urethra and is twirling it around.
I had that test once. I had this horrible urinary tract infection. Felt like I was pissing white hot
jagged glass. My doctor was out of the office for a couple days and told me to go the emergency
room to get to sulfa drugs and antibiotics.
So I'm in this curtained partition and the nurse hears my symptoms and starts questioning me
about STDs, partners, etc. I say not a chance. Nothing but latex on this dick for years now. He
says, "Okay, we'll have to take a couple of tests. First, grab your penis by the base, squeeze up
and wipe this swab on your urethra to take a culture of any discharge." I say, "No problem, I
know there's no discharge" and do as he asked. Then he says, "Now this second test . . . " and
without so much as anything, takes my dick and rams aforementioned metal swab into it for a
quick twist and pull. I've never screamed "fuck" so loud in all my life. The poor girl getting
stitches in the area next to me is probably still in therapy after the shock.
To add insult to injury, I got a shot of antibiotics so thick that it burned going into the muscle of
my leg, and hurt so much that I couldn't stand on it for 20 minutes. Then I had to drive home,
having to lift my leg with my hand in order to clutch in and out.
Diagnosis turned out to be non-specific urethritis. All I wanted to do was take a piss that didn't
hurt.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 95
From: sherman (Lloyd Hopkins)
Date: Wed, 04 May 94 20:45:47 EDT
I find limericks a pain in the ass so I have a dirty one I use to stop the any impromptu recitals.
I'll share it with you now.
There once was a maid from the Azores
Whose vagina was covered with sores
The dogs in the street
Used to lick the green meat
That hung in festoons from her drawers.
The nineties twist on felching is to put a shot glass up the persons ass to catch the come for
consumption.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 97
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Wed, 04 May 94 22:31:30 EDT
I was young and naive, new to the Big City, and eager to experience the wonders of promiscuity.
There was a young woman, a friend of a friend, who was known (rightly or wrongly) as a total
slut. Naturally, at the first opportunity, I got her drunk and went home with her.
Actually, "home" wasn't the right word; she lived in a kind of residential hotel. The room was so
dirty and foul, *neither* of us wanted to switch on the light. So, with the aid of a good deal of
fantasizing, I managed to have sex and even managed to reach a climax. As I was leaving the
next morning, I thought to myself, "If I'm ever going to catch a venereal disease, this is the time!"
(Note: this was before the age of AIDS.)
Well, I was correct. Within 24 hours, I experienced horrific urinary pain. My prostate felt as if it
was the size of a tennis ball. When I masturbated in order to relieve the pressure (this is the
good bit, kids) *green jelly* came out instead of semen!
So I went to the city health clinic. By this time I had a big ugly lesion on my penis. I was
examined, and the doctors looked at each other, and no one said anything. They made me wait
till all the other patients had gone, and then called me back in. *Everyone* wanted to take a look.
Finally this old guy (who had clearly spent his life examining genitals) said, "I'm sorry, but we're
going to have to open it up."
So there I was holding my penis, with it twisted around so the underneath part was on top,
while this geezer gets a sterile needle and *scrapes open the lesion*! Oh, it was really
interesting! Then after they had it bleeding, they pressed a microscope slide against it, and went
and examined it.
It turned out that they couldn't decide whether I had syphilis or something else. They couldn't
see any spirochetes so it looked like negative on syphilis--but since they didn't know what else
it could be, they gave me a monster shot of penicillin anyway. Later I discovered that the woman
I had slept with had just come back from a tour of all the most primitive, disease- infested
countries of the Far East and Africa. Who knows what she had picked up. Her name was Bonnie
Billet; I still think of her from time to time.
Never did discover what the disease was. Either it went away, or it will metastasize and rot my
brain, or it already _has_ metastasized and rotted my brain.
The moral of this story, of course, is too obvious to bother mentioning.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 99
From: gunfury (off the hook)
Date: Wed, 04 May 94 23:15:18 EDT
I went to a prep school that had a great football program. Every summer, around mid-August,
the new players would come onto campus to start drills for the coming season. Every year, like
clockwork, we would get a handful of girls from a local all-girls school to show up and check the
new meat out. The girls were young, pretty, and curious. One year, during my junior year of high
school, two girls drove up to a bunch of us after a hard day's practice. There were about 8 of us
in the group, and we were sweaty, grungy and what-not. These girls loved it. They seemed to be
slightly older than the usual fare that showed up pooning around. The girl who was in the
driver's seat did all the talking. She made it clear her and her friend wanted to party. I just knew
at that point, one of us was going to fuck this chick within the next hour or so, maybe even her
cute friend. I was behind a few of my friends, and didn't hear the last few words of the
conversation before I saw her drive towards our dorm complex. Bill, who was in the front,
turned to all of us and said to get some more guys together, and meet him at his room in a half
hour. All together, about 14 guys showed up in Bill's room. We closed off the floor which was
easy since football players were the only ones on school grounds. As I climbed up the stairs to
get to Bill's, I heard loud moans and knew what was happening. This girl was getting the shit
fucked out of her. [note: she directed the whole thing. She knew everything going on around her.
She was not drunk, nor was she drinking. That rare species of woman: the nymphomaniac!] Her
friend was watching for now. A few guys waited outside the room, but a lot of guys were inside
watching. Everyone fucked this chick, she knew everything and put on a good show. This crazy
kid Pete wanted to go last. He had convinced the main attraction's friend to join him and we all
watched this threesome go at it. He was going crazy on the both of them! After doing both of
them, every way imaginable [here comes the sick part] Pete asked the girl who did everyone
"What's your name?" (typical). "Lisa", the girl said (also typical). "I like that name", said Pete as he
proceeded to stick his index finger up Lisa's ass, and pulled out a wet hunk of shit. He butt
fucked her and pulled out a hunk of shit on his dick. Mind you, I am in the room with a bunch of
my friends and crying/laughing at this point. It was so surreal, I couldn't believe it was
happening. Pete walked over to a non- postered wall in Bill's room and with his index finger full
of shit wrote "LISA" on the wall. We were balling at this point. He yelled over to the other girl,
"Hey honey come here! What's your name?" "Rebecca." With his shit- covered dick he wrote
"BECKY" on the wall. He then bent her over in front of the wall and stuck his still shitty dick into
Beckys ass and pressed her so hard into the wall against her shit written name, she smeared it
with her body! As this was going on, I looked behind me at Lisa, and she asked some of my
friends to jerk off and piss on her! Four guys did just that! It was one of the most bizarre events
of my high school career.
They went home late that night. I don't think Becky showered! I told you this forum reminded
me of days of old! Felcher, you are a fucking genius!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 107
From: charles (Charles Platt)
Date: Thu, 05 May 94 13:10:25 EDT
A while ago I interviewed a woman who specializes in crushing things with her feet. The text
was published in a magazine titled "Leg Show." The woman is entirely for real. I'm not sure how
offensive it is, but it made _me_ feel vaguely queasy. Here are some excerpts.
Miss J: When I was little, I used to step on snails, which was a lot of fun, because the shells
crunch, and sometimes they pop. And the snail squishes out, almost like a grape. And the
interesting thing is, there are people out there who love to see me do that. So now I sell my own
snail-squishing photo sets.
Leg Show: What are some other things that you step on? Miss J: I have a video where I trample
tomatoes and yams with my bare feet. I really love the feeling of applying all of my weight and
having stuff squish up between my toes. It's quite messy, of course, but that's what submissives
are for--to lick my feet till they're clean.
Leg Show: Do you step on other foods?
Miss J: I have photos of my feet in stiletto shoes, crushing hardboiled eggs. I have a set called
"The Big Mac Attack" where I do a hamburger and fries. In each case, the photos follow a
sequence, getting messier all the way through.
Leg Show: What do you most enjoy stepping on? Miss J: I derive the most pleasure from stepping
on live victims. It's a power trip, and it's sensual at the same time.
Leg Show: Do you leave bruises?
Miss J: I danced on the back of one of my slaves one night, wearing the stilettos with the gold
heels, and the next day he had little round scabs all over his back, which he didn't realize till he
went to his gym, and people started staring at him and asking what the hell happened.
Leg Show: How should our readers get in touch with you? Miss J: They should should write to me
at 1915-A East Katella Avenue, #150, Orange, CA 92667, enclosing a stamped self-addressed
envelope. In return, I will send them my photo list and a sample photograph. Then we can go
from there.
Naturally, I take no responsibility for the fate of anyone who decides to make contact with this
little monster.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 109
From: catfood (incoherent)
Date: Thu, 05 May 94 13:35:40 EDT
One afternoon, GG Allin wandered into the record store where I used to work. He was trying to
get us to stock his new album.
Would've been business as usual, had he not been covered head-to-toe in half-dried shit.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 110
From: catfood (incoherent)
Date: Thu, 05 May 94 13:40:45 EDT
What's the oddest thing you've ever heard of anyone stuffing up their anal orifice? An intern
friend of mine told me one time that during a stint in the ER, he actually had to pull a light bulb
outta somebody's ass.
Quite tricky, that . . .
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 111
From: otto (Bob Otto Barnes)
Date: Thu, 05 May 94 14:02:44 EDT
The following is the _Unusual Case_ column from the July 1991 issue of the trade magazine
"Medical Aspects of Human Sexuality,"
by William A. Morton, Jr.
Scrotum Self-Repair
One morning I was called to the emergency room by the head ER nurse. She directed me to a
patient who had refused to describe his problem other than to say that he "needed a doctor who
took care of men's troubles." The patient, about 40, was pale, febrile, and obviously
uncomfortable, and had little to say as he gingerly opened his trousers to expose a bit of angry
red and black- and-blue scrotal skin.
After I asked the nurse to leave us, the patient permitted me to remove his trousers, shorts, and
two or three yards of foul-smelling stained gauze wrapped about his scrotum, which was
swollen to twice the size of a grapefruit and extremely tender. A jagged zig-zag laceration,
oozing pus and blood, extended down the left scrotum.
Amid the matted hair, edematous skin, and various exudates, I saw some half-buried dark
linear objects and asked the patient what they were. Several days earlier, he replied, he had
injured himself in the machine shop where he worked, and had closed the laceration himself
with a heavy-duty stapling gun. The dark objects were one-inch staples of the type used in
putting up wallboard.
We x-rayed the patient's scrotum to locate the staples; admitted him to the hospital; and gave
him tetanus antitoxin, broad-spectrum antibacterial therapy, and hexachlorophene sitz baths
prior to surgery the next morning. The procedure consisted of exploration and debridement of
the left side of the scrotal pouch. Eight rusty staples were retrieved, and the skin edges were
trimmed and freshened. The left testis had been avulsed and was missing. The stump of the
spermatic cord was recovered at the inguinal canal, debrided, and the vessels ligated properly,
though not much of a hematoma was present. Through-and-through Penrose drains were
sutured loosely in site, and the skin was loosely closed.
Convalescence was uneventful, and before his release from the hospital less than a week later,
the patient confided the rest of his story to me. An unmarried loner, he usually didn't leave the
machine shop at lunchtime with his coworkers. Finding himself alone, he had begun the regular
practice of masturbating by holding his penis against the canvas drive-belt of a large
floor-based piece of machinery. One day, as he approached orgasm, he lost his concentration
and leaned too close to the belt. When his scrotum became caught between the pulley-wheel
and the drive-belt, he was thrown into the air and landed a few feet away. Unaware that he had
lost his left testis, and perhaps too stunned to feel much pain, he stapled the wound closed and
resumed work. I can only assume he abandoned this method of self-gratification.
[William A. Morton is a retired urologist residing in West Chester, Pennsylvania.]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 112
From: feline (Rejected!)
Date: Thu, 05 May 94 14:42:42 EDT
So a famous newscaster at actions news in Philly went to the ER where my friend's mom worked
. . .
He had a gerbil stuck up his ass.
See, you're supposed to take the gerbil and stick it into a paper towel tube shoved into the
orifice. The gerbil then wiggles his way up your asshole, which some sick people seem to enjoy . .
.
Of course, you're supposed to remove the teeth and claws of the animal first, so you can get him
out easily . . .
Apparently, the newscaster had forgotten this last, important step . . . and the bugger decided
he like it in there and was holding on for dear life.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 113
From: catfood (incoherent)
Date: Thu, 05 May 94 14:57:26 EDT
Reminds me of a torture technique I'd heard the Nazis used. A metal tube is placed up a
person's anus, into which is placed a live rat, then sealed. This end of the tube is then heated to
a point at which the rat decides it is in his best interest to exit the situation--usually by eating
his way out the other open end.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 116
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Thu, 05 May 94 17:19:08 EDT
"My Thing About Vomit" by Ralph T. Castle [Reprint of a confessional published in the 1970s.]
PART ONE: The Early Days
It may seem perverse, even to readers of this newspaper, that anyone could have a fetish about
vomit. On the few occasions when I have confessed my special interest in this subject, I have
been told, flatly, that it is disgusting and there is something wrong with me. But ever since I was
sixteen years old I have been aware that there can be special erotic feelings linked to vomiting,
and the act has become part of my favorite sexual fantasies.
It all started when I was sixteen, with some teenage friends outside the school auditorium
where a typically boring dance was taking place. In the space of three hours I managed to drink
three-quarters of a gallon of wine (with frequent pauses to piss against the wall). I became too
drunk to stand.I then are a whole packet of Ritz crackers, and then started throwing up. I will
always remember the almost creamy consistency of the vomit resulting from the crackers
dissolved in the wine and stomach juices. My friends were disgusted to see me literally rolling
around in my vomit, as if I were getting off on it in some way. What they didn't notice was that,
as drunk as I was, the experience gave me an erection. In fact I think I might even have reached
orgasm, but I passed out soon after the stomach spasms were over.
I thought about this experience a lot and realized it was the primal thrill of gushing, of giving
forth, which turned me on. It was like ejaculating but much more dramatic. And vomiting
brought me into an intimate contact with the juices of my body that were normally contained
and hidden. This, and the sense of turning myself inside-out, was exciting.
So I tried to make myself vomit again, a few days later, while sober this time. Unfortunately, it
has never been easy for me to vomit. I had to keep prodding the back of my throat with my
finger, and when I finally managed to bring up a mere cup full of vomit the muscle spasms
(which I had hardly noticed while I was drunk) were so painful that they ruined the experience
for me.
Consequently I abandoned the subject for a while, though I retained a special interest in any
movies which showed people vomiting, and I thought about it quite a bit.
Then, when I was at college, I was dating a girl who was a yoga student and claimed to have
mental control of all bodily functions. I suddenly said, "I bet you couldn't make yourself vomit
just by thinking about it," and as I spoke I had a vivid image of the juices flowing from her
mouth, and I realized, rather guiltily, how much it would excite me to see this and, if possible,
touch and taste her vomit as it came out.
She was a competitive person, so she accepted my challenge--provided that I would promise to
take her out to dinner afterward (!). She went into the bathroom and kneeled down with her
head over the toilet. For the next fifteen minutes there was an endless, tantalizing series of
stomach spasms as she tried to will herself to vomit. I crouched with my arm around her, my
hand surreptitiously touching her breast. I felt unbearable anticipation mixed with fear, as if
something forbidden and dangerous was about to happen. And then, finally, she did it. I saw the
rich brown liquid flow out of her very pretty mouth. Then, while she was still gasping for breath,
I couldn't stop myself from seizing her and kissing her passionately, so that I could taste the
vomit. I pushed my tongue into her mouth and the tip of it touched little food particles and
partially digested remnants of the lunch she had eaten with me just a few hours earlier. The
intimacy was beyond anything I had experienced with her in our relationship.
However, to her the whole experience was repellent, and she pushed me away, saying that there
must be something wrong with me. She refused ever to vomit for me again, and stopped seeing
me soon after that. My biggest regret was that I hadn't asked her to vomit into a dish; as it was,
she had quickly flushed the toilet, taking all the evidence of the special moment away.
I found it predictably difficult to meet any other women who shared my interests. A year or so
later I was seeing a very overweight girl who had tried every slimming diet there was. I
suggested hopefully to her that if she made herself vomit after dinner each night, she would
quickly lose weight. She didn't like the idea, so I had to keep insisting on it, telling her rather
cruelly how fat she was.
[Will our humble narrator find lasting bliss with his tubby new friend? Stay tuned for the next
exciting episode of this confession, supplied by your dedicated moderator.]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 117
From: reive (quilted violets)
Date: Thu, 05 May 94 17:43:48 EDT
I was at a bar with some friends and one guy is like I gotta puke, so we thought he would get up
and go puke but he reaches across the table for my empty glass and vomits neatly into it. Then
he reaches for someone else's glass and does the same. And then we all sorta sat there staring
at it in awe.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 124
From: lee96 (Lee96)
Date: Thu, 05 May 94 19:47:36 EDT
My old math teacher worked in an emergency room in San Francisco. He told us that they had a
guy come in who had lubed up a fluorescent light tube, shoved it in his ass and of course the
fucker burst, sending slivers deep in his rectum. Of course his body also absorbed the gas
contained in the the tube . . . Duh!?! Does anyone know if the whole "gerbilism" thing is for real
or just urban myth? I always wondered about that one . . .
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 131
From: speed (Crucial Taunt)
Date: Fri, 06 May 94 01:43:17 EDT
I had a GF who was pogoing around her room w/ her walkman on full blast; anyway, she really
got into it then she felt something wet on her bare foot and she looked around and saw that she
had crushed the skull of her new kitten and that the wet stuff was its brain on her foot.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 132
From: speed (Crucial Taunt)
Date: Fri, 06 May 94 01:57:36 EDT
one night I went to the Tunnel (a first date) to see Karen Finley and she stuffed canned yams up
her ass and shit them out onto our table, well she was done and there we were with our two free
open bar drinks and a hot pile of her yam shit on the table w/us
"Time to dance"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 134
From: charles (Charles Platt)
Date: Fri, 06 May 94 13:23:39 EDT
Does anyone have any tampon stories? Tampons interest me because they rouse such mixed
feelings in both males and females. No one seems entirely comfortable with the idea of heavily
blood-soaked tampons . . .
With one exception: cats love them. We have a cat which will dig a used tampon out from under
any amount of other bathroom trash. The cat then thoroughly chews the tampon, presumably
under the impression that it is a helpless (bloody) woodland creature.
Since infants acquire the ability to eat meat long before they acquire social inhibitions, it seems
to me that a child of maybe 18 months would happily suck on a used tampon, if it had the
chance to do so.
Any first-hand experience in this area?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 135
From: reive (quilted violets)
Date: Fri, 06 May 94 13:31:59 EDT
A friend of mine told me that early in his residency he dealt with a woman who was admitted to
the hospital complaining of abdominal cramps. It turns out she had been using tampons and no
one told her they had to be removed before inserting a new one. She had about 20 up there and
this had been going on for about a week, when she showed up at the emergency room.
And you believe in children as social experiment don't you Mr. Platt?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 140
From: reive (quilted violets)
Date: Fri, 06 May 94 14:51:52 EDT
My same doctor friend also once treated a woman who came in because of vaginal itching; she
was concerned she had an STD. Upon investigation he found maggots nesting inside her.
Apparently her BF like to insert food in her and then eat it out. Unfortunately, he wasn't very
thorough.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 141
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Fri, 06 May 94 15:03:24 EDT
Important Announcement
Following a high-level conference with one of the founders of MindVox, I have been given the
go-ahead to offer a special award which will be reserved exclusively for participants here in the
Fuck-You forum.
Once a month, this unique award will be given to the writer of the most *offensive* post in each
of three categories:
1. True Confession or Anecdote
2. Medical Description
3. Insult
You may be wondering what, exactly, the Golden Turd trophy will consist of. Will it be a genuine
human turd? In which case, how can it be golden? Will it be a golden *replica* of a turd, or a
plastic novelty that has been painted gold, or just a picture of a turd, or some other second-rate
ripoff?
First let me assure you that the Golden Turd Award will *not, repeat not* be a second-rate
ripoff. The Golden Turd will be an item of lasting value, lovingly packaged for display in a
transparent acrylic case. More than this I am reluctant to say. I would like the Golden Turd
Award to have a legendary, numinous, grail-like purity. I would cheapen it by describing it in
any more detail.
There have already been some highly memorable posts, here, and I can see that the competition
for this award is likely to be fierce. Therefore, in each category there will also be two runners-up
whose names will be enshrined in a roll of honor in this forum.
I will be the judge of this contest, in consultation with the owners of MindVox. Maybe this seems
a bit high-handed, but since I'm the one who is getting his hands dirty, so to speak, actually
creating the Golden Turd trophies, I figure I should have something to say about who wins
them. And if this arrangement doesn't meet with your approval--well, fuck you!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 157
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Fri, 06 May 94 21:07:05 EDT
"My Thing About Vomit" by Ralph T. Castle PART TWO: Fulfillment!
Finally she agreed to my plan, just once. This time I prepared properly for the scene. I covered
the kitchen table with a towel, and I set a large white porcelain mixing bowl in the center. I
draped another towel across my girlfriend's large breasts, as a napkin. She looked as if she was
about to enjoy a feast--except that the bowl was empty, and in fact she was about to PROVIDE
the feast!
She tried to back out at the last minute, and it was I who had to touch the back of her
throat--an act which seemed just as erotic, to me, as pushing my finger into a woman's vagina.
While I tickled her throat with one hand, I masturbated surreptitiously under the table with my
other hand, and when she finally threw up I came at almost the same moment, in a mutual rush
of juices that made me flinch and cry out, the spasms were so intense.
Luckily, she was too aware of her own discomfort to realize what was happening to me. By the
time she recovered herself and wiped away the dribbles of vomit from her chin, I had mopped
up the evidence of my orgasm and was quickly clearing away the bowl of liquid. I had quietly
stage-managed her diet during that day, insisting that she ate a lot of beets for dinner, and
some rare roast beef--so that when the vomit came up, it would be a very pretty purple-pink
color.
That night, I waited for her to go to sleep, and then I crept out to the kitchen and poured her
vomit into a large glass jar. I brought the jar back into our bedroom and stood it on the bedside
table. It gave me a very special guilty thrill to go to sleep beside her with that jar of her very
essence, captured and bottled, standing close by. I felt I had stolen away something altogether
more precious than any act of a normal sexual nature would have given me.
Unfortunately she woke before I did and when she saw what I had done, she was so disgusted
she terminated our involvement immediately. It was all I could do to stop her grabbing the jar of
vomit and pouring it away. Later, I confess I indulged in a very perverse act: I used some of the
vomit as lubricant on my hands, and masturbated with it. I remember how the white come
looked amid the sticky purplish vomit--which, by this time, was actually beginning to turn
brown, since I discovered vomit does not keep for very long, even when refrigerated. It goes
brown and starts smelling very bad.
In the next few weeks I tried again to make myself vomit, now that I realized how arousing the
whole subject could be. But the act was as physically painful as ever, and in any case it was a
poor substitute compared to what I had experienced with my girlfriend.
So I turned to prostitutes. Inevitably, they refused to have anything to do with me, when I told
them what I wanted. Their attitude was that they would do various kind of perverted sex, if they
were paid enough, but vomiting was nothing to do with sex. It was plain disgusting, and they
couldn't do it no matter how much they were paid. Actually, I think it was simply that any
person, no matter how degenerate he or she is, needs to find someone else in the world they
can despise for being even more degenerate. And that's why the prostitutes despised me rather
than cooperate with what I wanted.
Then I had a stroke of good fortune. By a complete fluke--a wrong number phone call, in
fact--I met a girl called Tina who had come to the city from the Midwest, thinking she could get
rich here. She had gotten very disillusioned, had ended up selling encyclopedias door to door,
had even failed at that, and when I met her she was broke and hopeless, living in a sleazy little
apartment in a very bad neighborhood.
Tina turned out to be one of the least attractive women I had ever met. When we talked on the
phone she sounded sexy, but when I saw her I found she had extremely bad acne, her face
looked perpetually blank (her mouth literally tended to hang half open), and she was incapable
of keeping up any sort of intelligent conversation.
My first impulse was to try and leave as tactfully as possible. However, she mentioned that, in
addition to all her other troubles, she had gotten pregnant. One thing came into my head at this
point: MORNING SICKNESS!
[Will our humble narrator enter into a blissful union with Tina, as she pukes her guts out each
morning? Stay tuned for the final "sick" installment submitted for your edification by your
humble moderator.]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 158
From: sheimp (SheImp)
Date: Sat, 07 May 94 02:29:23 EDT
I just got back from path lab, here are the fun things we played with: A hand that was obscured
by the basal cell carcinoma. Just the hand. In a jar. It had been amputated.
A teratoma. What you get when your gonadal cells decide to go ape shit. Basically a tumor with
hair, and teeth, and skin and bone, but in no human- like arrangement.
A leg (actually a couple of them) which had been amputated for various reasons, mostly cancer.
You could see the toenails and the skin.
Part of a nose and an eyeball that had to be cut out because of cancer. It was still connected
together. Not much left to the eyeball, the inside jello-stuff was all gone.
The hand really was the creepiest, I kept wondering if the guy that it used to belong to missed it.
Or knew it was in a jar somewhere. The fingernails were nicely cut, unfortunately he decided to
let the big ol ulcerating cancer hang around for 7 years or so.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 160
From: galt (Skenderbeg)
Date: Sat, 07 May 94 05:24:26 EDT
when I was in histology lab in undergrad, we had this jar of cut-up human skin in
formaldehyde. I noticed once that there were some greenish markings on them so I removed
them to examine. By the time I had finished, I had in front of me a jigsaw puzzle made of
human flesh depicting a really cool Harley-Davidson tattoo.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 161
From: luke (Meddle)
Date: Sat, 07 May 94 09:49:43 EDT
My parents tell me a story of sneaking around the bio dept. at Yale in the late sixties--my mom
wanted to see a corpse and my dad had keys, so . . .
Anyway they're in the meat locker surrounded by your usual assortment of Nasty Stuff (hands
and feet and fetuses etc. in jars) and they are walking around goggling at stuff when my dad
trips over a big white bucket on the floor which contains a human head which decided to spill
out of the bucket along with the gallon or two of preservant which coated the bottom of mom's
pant legs. Needless to say they ran like hell.
I can only guess that he did not take her to dinner afterwards.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 163
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Sat, 07 May 94 14:03:30 EDT
"My Thing About Vomit" by Ralph T. Castle PART THREE: The Thrill of Morning Sickness
To my great excitement I learned that Tina was, in fact, suffering from morning sickness, and
since it had only recently started, she expected it would go on for another couple of weeks. So I
decided I had to spend that night with her, even though I found her physically repulsive. She
had no objection--she seemed to have no will of her own, in fact, which excited me, because it
implied I might persuade her to vomit for me more than once.
I spent a very difficult night with her, and was only able to have sex by closing my eyes and
picturing what delights dawn would bring. Then I woke in the morning and felt her slipping out
of bed to go to the bathroom. I ran after her, just in time to stop her closing the bathroom door.
I insisted she should vomit into the sink, not the toilet. She tried to resist, but I just took charge,
and she was too submissive and too overcome by nausea to do much about it.
I managed to put the stopper into the drain while her stomach heaved, and then, gloriously, all
the juices flowed. There was not a lot, because most of the food in her stomach had been
digested and moved down into the intestines during the night. However, to my eyes the liquid
that did come up had an almost golden color, and I marveled that it looked so attractive to me,
while she, the vessel from which the liquid flowed, was so ugly!
As soon as she had vomited I kissed her deeply and savored the bitter taste. Then, wanting to
see how far she would go, I asked her to suck my cock. She agreed rather reluctantly, and
kneeled down on the bathroom floor. The idea of her mouth, wet with bile and stomach juices,
around my cock, was so erotic that I came almost immediately.
After my orgasm I asked her to leave me alone in the bathroom for a few minutes. When she
had gone, I locked the door. I then found a sponge, soaked it in the vomit, and rubbed it all over
my naked body. This brought back my feelings of sexual arousal and within minutes I was
masturbating to another orgasm, wrapping the vomit-wet sponge around my cock as I came.
From then on I spent every night with Tina. She soon suspected that all I really cared about were
our morning sessions, but she was such a lonely person she never refused me. After all, I was
just about her only friend, and I gave her money and brought food each time I visited her.
I, of course, was experiencing pure bliss. I told Tina that she had not been eating enough, and
she should have a midnight snack before she went to bed each night. By this ruse, I was able to
increase the volume of the vomit that she produced each morning, and I was also able to alter
its color and taste, though not very predictably. One morning after she vomited, I touched it
with my finger and licked it, and it tasted so special to me it seemed too good to waste. So I
bottled that morning's batch and insisted on cooking dinner that night--a beef stew, into which
I slipped at least a cup full of the vomit I had saved. Actually the culinary experiment did not
work very well; the result wasn't very nice. But the idea of what I had done still delighted me. We
were both consuming Tina's essential juices, even though she didn't know it.
Her morning sickness ended soon after that, and she summoned enough courage to refuse me
when I hinted that she should force herself to continue vomiting just for me.
So I left Tina, and for the past couple of years there has been no one willing to satisfy my
particular desires. This is a pity because there are many more kinky things I would like to do.
For instance, if I ever met a woman who shared my fetish I would have her wear a small glass
vial on a thin gold chain around her neck, and in the vial would be a little sample of her vomit,
which we would renew each day. It would be like a window into her inner workings, her essence.
It would also be a very special and exciting secret between us, as to what the liquid was.
Also I would like to experiment more with different diets to produce different colors and
textures of vomit, with different aromas and tastes. And I would be interested in
group-vomiting experiments. These are just a few of the many topics which come to mind.
I do not know why I have this special obsession. I have no other special needs, and my sex life is
otherwise normal enough. I know I would dearly love to meet anyone else who has a similar
interest in this much misunderstood subject, so that we could explore it together and satisfy
each other in the process.
[This text was originally published about 15 years ago. There is no information on the fate of the
author since then, so please, all you girls looking for someone who'll really appreciate your
puke, save your energy--do not write to me asking for Mr. Castle's address and phone number.]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 165
From: tice (ntice)
Date: Sat, 07 May 94 16:53:59 EDT
The stories of objects found up people's asses are entirely true. In my short career I've seen
coke bottles, cigar cases, extremely large dildos, glasses and other assorted objects. We also had
guy brought in one night because he cut off his own testicles.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 166
From: andygee (the solution)
Date: Sat, 07 May 94 17:40:49 EDT
tice (ntice) writes:
The stories of objects found up people's asses are entirely true . . . We also had guy brought in
one night because he cut off his own testicles.
sure, but did he shove them up his ass?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 171
From: nicki (me and slowdog)
Date: Sun, 08 May 94 10:09:59 EDT
Last night I projectile puked a mass of lobster bisque (the only thing I had eaten that day; I had
had it for breakfast). Mostly it was lobster bisque but also there was one hot dog in it. Plus all
the wine! It was quite red. The puke, that is. Cause I had eaten only red things all day!!! It was
really cool, it looked like godzilla's radiation breath coming out of me!!!! Whhhaaarggghh!!!!!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 186
From: charles (Charles Platt)
Date: Mon, 09 May 94 17:22:46 EDT
My friend (who wishes to be known as Allison) saw a couple of the posts in this forum and
spontaneously provided the following account:
"Guys won't think this is disgusting, but I was out one night and I had a blazer on, and all night
my tits were itching. It was a fancy, expensive blazer, and it had a filling, between the face of the
jacket and the lining, made of some kind of thin fibers. And that was what really made my
boobs itch. At night, when I finally got home and was pretty drunk, I took everything off and
was trying to get to sleep on the couch. But my right tit was still really itching, especially the
nipple. So since I was drunk, I was fumbling around in the dark, trying to find a light switch to
see if I had a rash or irritation. I turned on the light and I was in front of the mirror and I saw
that there was a black spot right in the middle of my nipple, like a pinprick. So I touched the
spot, and when I touched it, it made me jump. It stung. I grabbed onto this thing, which I
thought was a piece of dirt, and one of these jacket fibers was slowly coming out from my
nipple, and it was a full inch long. And if this doesn't gross you out, guys, just imagine it was in
your penis."
--From Allison of Brooklyn
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 187
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Mon, 09 May 94 18:06:19 EDT
I have just received email from tice, who promises to contribute a story from her extensive
medical experience, describing a man who removed _and_ ate his own eyeball. Sounds like a
Golden Turd nominee to me.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 190
From: simonm (Jeff Smith)
Date: Mon, 09 May 94 20:24:36 EDT
It is perfectly possible to fuck with a tampon in, especially if you are using juniors, as long as
you don't insist on full penetration.
In fact, there's a kinda nice effect, since it absorbs some of the extra lubrication . . . if you like
that dry-fuck feeling . . .
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 191
From: mrbass (Bill Bass)
Date: Mon, 09 May 94 20:39:09 EDT
I don't know about anyone here, but i think *I have the smelliest nasty disgusting feet in the
world.* shure, they smell and look great when they are out of these boat shoes I have worn for
years with no socks, but when they are in there, whoooooo nellie, they *reek.*
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 209
From: galt (Skenderbeg)
Date: Mon, 09 May 94 23:25:03 EDT
When I was in army advanced training in texas, some guys decided to have a zit contest once.
For a whole month, they picked a special zit somewhere on their body and proceeded to succor
and nurture it to full plenitude. The guy who ended up winning had a special training routine.
He would rub it with baby oil throughout the day, and thump it lightly to irritate it and spread
the staph infection to multiple pores deep within the skin. The day of the decision, the actual
pus dome was about 2 mm across. The entire tip of his nose was red. When he finally expressed
the contents, the core of the solidified pus and sebum flew about 1.25 meters. Later that day he
developed blood poisoning and was taken to the hospital. None of us ever saw him again but we
heard he had to have ost of the tip of his nose amputated and replaced with cartilage from his
ear.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 210
From: dsharp (david sharp)
Date: Mon, 09 May 94 23:32:37 EDT
ft. sam!
at ft. sam we had one "sgt bozo" (that was his name) who would check the cleanliness of the
toilets by running his bare finger under the inner top rim of the bowl. if it came out brown he'd
say "looks like shit." then he'd smell it and say "smells like shit" then he'd stick his finger in his
mouth and say "tastes like shit. I HATE SHIT!!"
and write up whoever was responsible.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 214
From: speed (Crucial Taunt)
Date: Tue, 10 May 94 03:54:46 EDT
Bass (deleted) writes:
> then my bud bran, the only gal present, just had to say "i've known some guys to like it on the rag"
Are you kidding? I love to eat menstrual blood, do it whenever I can, in fact, on two different
first dates.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 215
From: speed (Crucial Taunt)
Date: Tue, 10 May 94 04:17:12 EDT
Years ago, I was a junkie, and I was shooting this "poison dope from Iran." The story on the
street was that The Ayatollah was poisoning the dope to destroy American Youth (like Heroin
wasn't enuff?) Anyway it was the best stuff by far, but it was killing bunches of people every day
. . . well I didn't care I kept shooting it and getting abscesses all over my arms really big ones.
I used to pop the scabs and shoot pus across the room, ounces of it. To try and clean it up I
squirted whole tubes of A&D ointment into them and then squirted this out too; squirting was
effected by bending the arm and making a muscle, it would squirt right from the fold. There was
lots and lots of brownish, greenish, yellowish pus. and on my wrist it had eaten into my flesh
and the vein so that i could just pick off the scab and shoot into the broken end of the vein w/o
a needle, just the syringe barrel.
I didn't mind this so much, then.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 216
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Tue, 10 May 94 10:08:14 EDT
I suppose I should contribute my experience at the Bizarre Theater. This was a one-time
coat-hangar factory which used to be located on West 19th Street in Manhattan. The
management presented it as an S&M club, although they hadn't changed the decor at all--the
ceiling was of tin plate, there were pipes and dangling conduits, and everything was ancient and
filthy.
As I arrived, an aging dominatrix was on an improvised stage, with rolls of fat bulging out of a
gold lame corset. She was beating up a cringing middle-aged black man, using a wire brush to
open up a gash on his buttocks which started bleeding freely. He had a dildo strapped into his
mouth and Christmas baubles tied around his penis. His scrotum was lassoed with a rope which
ran to a noose around his neck, forcing him to hunch forward with his chin near his balls. The
dominatrix then dripped hot wax into the bloody wound she had created, made another wound
and poured alcohol into that, then used a lash to remove the congealed wax, made the man lie
in his back with his feet in the air, and beat the soles of his feet with a heavy cane.
A man in the audience suddenly jumped up and ran to the toilet, which was a small cubicle
separated from the audience area by a thin plywood partition. We could clearly hear him puking.
"He can's stand the sight of blood," muttered the woman who was with him. She too turned out
to be a dominatrix (I talked to her after the show) but she was disgusted by the spectacle on
stage, since she preferred to dominate her slave with greater finesse. "For instance," she told
me, "when I use a dildo in a scene, I ALWAYS put a rubber on it first."
Meanwhile the woman on stage had finished with her male slave, and started with a meek young
woman. She made her lie down and masturbate, but told her not to reach orgasm, "because you
don't have orgasms. You're a girl. You disgust me." The dominatrix then straddled the young
woman, spat in her face, and pissed all over her.
All this time, there was music playing in the background--a compilation of Beatles favorites.
During the urination, I seem to remember that Paul McCartney was warbling about "Michelle, ma
belle."
Finally, the female slave was told to mop up the puddles of urine on stage by sitting in them.
"But it's not just urine, it's blood as well," she complained. "Shut up and mop it with your ass,
whatever it is," she was told.
The Bizarre Theater didn't stay in business long, probably because it made too many people
puke. But I must admit, I treasure the memory of my visit.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 221
From: speed (Crucial Taunt)
Date: Tue, 10 May 94 16:05:42 EDT
felcher (Jim Felcher) writes:
> I'd just like to thank galt and speed for their fine posts about festering sores. It's text like this
> that lightens the humdrum load of everyday life.
> speed, would you say that your experience was typical of many junkies?
No, although I can tell you of two other stories that leap to mind there was a guy who went to
my methadone clinic (we called him Joe Namath) who had both hands permanently blown up to
the size and shape of footballs. He could use them though, but they were huge, I do not
exaggerate
Also there was a dope hotel on 125th street, where you had to show tracks and pay a dollar to
get in. They were always suspicious of me cause I was white and they thought I was a cop a lot,
till they saw my abscesses then they'd say step right in. Anyway there was this guy in a room, I
used to sit there with him for a long time, he'd keep you there cause of the company. He
couldn't walk at all, his two feet were the shape and color and texture of old tree trunks and
they used to run w/ pus and fluid where they'd crack open.
This man had never seen a doctor I'm sure any M.D. would've lopped those things off in a
second. Instead he'd just wipe 'em down a bit w/alcohol and half-assedly wrap 'em in gauze. He
had all these lackeys who'd do all his running around for him. His dope gave him the power he
needed to sustain an immobile lifestyle. when I say immobile, I mean that in all the months,
maybe years I went there I never saw him in any position but one, propped on the edge of the
bed in front of a b&w tv which was always on.
Me, I watched tv too.
I think the main thing that makes my story atypical is that I'm tellin' it 13 years later
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 223
From: gorelord (Euronymous)
Date: Tue, 10 May 94 18:34:31 EDT
Something what happened in my bio lab. We had to dissect a fetal pig to study their fascinating
immature organs inside their pale-yellow corpses. We did the whole thing of a tray to which the
body is attached with steel pins as we carved up its interior. So one guy walks with his tray and
someone pushes him. He manages to keep the tray with the skin still attached to it but all
insides fall out in a shower of really stinky preservatives. People around jumped and jerked
away stepping all over scattered innards making a nice, greenish mess on the floor, someone
had to remove brains from his sneaker afterwards.
I don't remember if fetal intestines were ever found,
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 230
From: kayotae (Kayotae Blackwolf)
Date: Tue, 10 May 94 21:26:05 EDT
When I was a volunteer with the Stuyvesant First Aid Squad we got one call for "major injuries."
EMS wouldn't extrapolate further but we raced to the call to find a lady bleeding all over the
place who had tried to abort her fetus with a Dustbuster Plus. It worked!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 233
From: kayotae (Kayotae Blackwolf)
Date: Tue, 10 May 94 22:05:08 EDT
A friend of mine, a female zoophile, once had to call the local First Aid Squad when she was in
the house alone and was "tied" to her dog. The tightness of her vagina wouldn't allow the blood
to flow out of her dog's cock so his bulb wouldn't go down (those of you currently clueless go
check out a canine anatomy book). They had no idea what to do. They eventually called a vet
and the dog was sedated. She never faced any legal problems (not illegal in Colorado [where she
lived]) but she had to move 'cuz all her neighbors found out.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 237
From: hotstuff (sexy)
Date: Tue, 10 May 94 23:00:01 EDT
Anyone ever play "cheese and crackers". When I was growing up, a bunch of us (guys) got
together to play "cheese and crackers". The object of the game is to jerk off and come on a
saltine cracker, and the last one to get off *has to eat all the other crackers! *
We usually held them down, and force fed them! . . . So the next time you are at a bachelor party,
you now know a new game to play! Keep me posted . . .
See ya!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 242
From: sheimp (SheImp)
Date: Wed, 11 May 94 01:45:55 EDT
The worst thing i've seen so far in clinic was just two weeks ago. There was this kid who had this
weird blood disorder. But his main problem at the moment was this raging skin infection on the
tops of both feet and extending up his legs. Not just your run of the mill infection, but deep,
deep cellulitis, way deeep. It was all oozing and ulcerating and gunky (the prob was it wouldn't
heal). Had been that way for months. But the thing that got me was that the dr needed to
unwrap the bandages. The guy didn't look too happy about it even tho he was on like 3
morphine like drugs. When she pulled the wraps off . . . .his _skin came peeling off_. She kept
pulling and pulling and it kept coming off and coming off . . . I really felt rather warm at the
time. Didn't help that the guy was yelping either.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 244
From: speed (Crucial Taunt)
Date: Wed, 11 May 94 02:04:47 EDT
Once, in bio lab I had this experiment w/fertilized chicken eggs. Every day during their 28(?) day
gestation period, I would crack one open, keep it alive as long as I could in a saline solution
while giving it different drugs and noting the effects on its heartbeat. This was psycho enough.
But I decided to steal one and take it home, it was in the 20- something day area and I thought I
could keep it warm for a few days and hatch it. so I stuck it in my coat pocket and took it home
on the Fordham Road Crosstown bus. Anyway, that bus gets really crowded, and the egg got
crushed in my pocket, and I had a prematurely born chick struggling in my pocket in a mess of
egg gook and of course I couldn't just take it out on a packed bus, so . . . It died, I threw it in a
trash can when I got off the bus, and my favorite fuckin' coat stunk like a burnt skunk. Still wore
it, though.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 265
From: galt (Skenderbeg)
Date: Fri, 13 May 94 17:53:28 EDT
I think it's cool whenever you can get food to come out of your nose. Even though I had nine
months of medical gross anatomy, the fact that the nasal and oral passages are connected
seems really cool and mysterious to me, so I'm always glad whenever I prove that mine are thus
situated. Of course it's a bittersweet victory, because my stomach acids are usually eating away
the mucosa lining my nasal passages whenever this happens.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 269
From: mcaff (Duuude!)
Date: Fri, 13 May 94 21:24:06 EDT
This past weekend I saw a guy with full body herpes. To compliment this he had been lying in
his own urine and feces for two or three days and had vomited on himself. The smell wasn't too
bad, you could only smell him from 50 feet away.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 270
From: mcaff (Duuude!)
Date: Fri, 13 May 94 21:27:55 EDT
This weekend I also saw a guy who had been hit in the head with a meat cleaver. He was hit once
on the left side of his face splitting it from the corner of his mouth to an inch or so beyond his
left ear. He was also hit on the top of his head splitting for about six inches. You could see
where his skull was split in both places but you couldn't see his brain because it was too dark.
Maybe he didn't have a brain because apparently it was a friend of his who did this.
I guess you could say he needs a friend like that like he needs a hole in his head.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 275
From: geekus (NO CAREER)
Date: Sat, 14 May 94 12:08:09 EDT
i never did get around to seeing karen finley in her prime. a question about her technique: was it
mostly her hand _pushing the yam up her ass_, or did her sphincter play a more active role,
_pulling the yam up her ass _(kind of like a horse eating a carrot)?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 276
From: locutus (Death Incarnate)
Date: Sat, 14 May 94 12:11:07 EDT
Dissection stories are kewl! A few weeks ago my class had to dissect sheep eyes, one kid came
around the room after we were done and collected all the lenses (the roundish clear thing that
got kinda cloudy from the preservatives) He intended to give them to friends, telling them they
were gummy candies . . . . I never did find out if he really did . . . .
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 279
From: speed (Crucial Taunt)
Date: Sun, 15 May 94 02:46:41 EDT
geekus (NO CAREER) writes:
> i never did get around to seeing karen finley in her prime. a question about her technique:
> was it mostly her hand _pushing the yam up her ass_...
mostly pushing, from where I sat, but I admit, if her ass _was_ chewing, I might have missed that
detail. She didn't really come up close till it was time to shit it out, which she did in long, steady,
forceful, pushes. A detail I left out of my original post was that my date seemed to think that I
set this up, or at least knew it would happen, and seemed to think that this was a hint of what
might be expected of her should we go home together. We didn't.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 285
From: molbloo (mango tango)
Date: Sun, 15 May 94 22:13:22 EDT
I've recently developed this weird rash, or these hives, or whatever you wanna call it, all over my
chin and my mouth and my cheeks and my neck. and my back. It's pretty cool, because it makes
my skin all puffy and red and shiny and kinda bubbly. (I have all of these blackhead scars. wow .
. . ). So I'm in the process of drying up this rash by mixing up a nice baking-soda-and-
water-paste and applying it over the affected areas. It stings like hell, but pretty soon,it'll dry it
up enough so that it'll get all nice and oozy. Wow. To think that my skin is going to drip watery
pus in a few days! And, best yet, it'll crust-over and crack. This, of curse, thrills me to no end.
Right.
Moral of the story--when you buy fruit, wash it really really well. Or buy only organic stuff. I
have some weird reaction most likely to some pesticide on some fruit or something I ate a few
days ago.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 297
From: kayotae (Kayotae Blackwolf)
Date: Wed, 18 May 94 15:58:03 EDT
A year ago, while working for the NYTransPD, I was standing around on the Park Place 2/3
platform and just as the 3 Uptown came ripping into the station, some homeless looking black
guy decides it's a good day to die and goes sui. Well, being on the scene, the report and
everything else coming with was my responsibility, this included cleaning up the mess. Usually,
someone from uptown medical comes down and tries to identify all the little parts as we put
them in ziploc baggies but the miscellaneous sludge left over (usually found boiling on the third
rail or stuck to the front of the train) goes in one big black bag labeled "mashed potatoes." Some
guy got in trouble once 'cause he chucked an eyeball in there. The Sgt. said "That's identifiable!
Take that out!" Hehehe . . .
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 306
From: miked (miked)
Date: Thu, 19 May 94 19:10:54 EDT
Residents and interns have great stories. I'm not one, but I spent time with two of them. On site,
two stories (both true):
Seattle man with diabetes and a glass eye and not a homeowner comes in with an itch under his
glass eye. The resident pops it out. Maggots spill forth. Resident isn't too worried, because after
all maggots are a medical marvel. They only eat necrotic flesh. Used on burn victims at hospitals
that are paragons of Western Medicine. Still, it was disconcerting, and smelly, and the thought of
dead flesh in an eye socket cannot be good news for anybody.
Construction worker falls from third story of San Diego skyscraper in progress. Lands on a
re-bar pole. Impaled. Flails around, trying to upright himself. Like a beetle on a needle.
Coworkers barf into lunch pails. EMS hacksaws the steel cable and ambulance transports him to
the hospital. By now his face is swollen, two black eyes, lots of internal bleeding, you know, and
he's plugged up. Bruises result. "Don't let my girlfriend see my like this." Vanity never dies.
Doctors are ready to do something. But they're residents. Not doctors! Not yet, at least! "I don't
know," Resident replies, failing his final exam. Turns out the re-bar missed his vitals, and the
guy got well, practically good as new, but his GF never got to see him till the minor bruises
subsided.
Oh, and 2 more, a colostomy and cast iron frying pan to the head stories may follow. If things
pick up. And the dart in the head, which sounds better than it is.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 321
From: eponine (Jesus in Trunk)
Date: Fri, 20 May 94 22:48:04 EDT
a guy at work told me this story he had heard about a man who took a turkey baster, filled it
with beer, and inserted it into the anus of a woman, who after a while, said, "That's enough."
Now, as he said, how did she know that that was the stopping point? i mean, he's shoving beer
up her ass? is there an acceptable limit for that???
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 322
From: galt (Iskender Bey)
Date: Sat, 21 May 94 00:12:52 EDT
eponine (Jesus in Trunk) writes:
> a guy at work told me this story he had heard about a man who took a turkey baster, filled it
> with beer, and inserted it into the anus of a woman, who after a while, said, "That's enough."
It's hard to tell what the limit is for alcohol consumption. My guess is that she knew she'd better
take it easy on the beer lest she get too tipsy and do something crazy.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 338
From: sheimp (SheImp)
Date: Sun, 22 May 94 15:56:31 EDT
when i was in college i used to work in the food services. anyway there was this guy there who
was kinda quiet, kinda mean, we used to give him a hard time. This new guy started working
there and he and the mean guy didn't hit it off so well. Any way they got into this fight and the
mean guy grabbed the other guy and threw him in to the steam table (like a big table with a
recess all full of boiling water) and *held him there* until the other ppl pulled him off. Needless
to say the guy was really messed up, his skin was like hanging off him, it was like melted or
something, all floppy.
The really sad thing was the burned guy was the brother of my boss's friend, she felt pretty bad
about the whole thing, seeing as she had gotten him the job.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 374
From: kieran (Francis Urquhart)
Date: Wed, 25 May 94 17:42:01 EDT
Re: drinking one's own urine.
Yup--tried it. Albeit accidentally. "How the fuck did you manage that?" I hear you cry. Simple.
Once upon a time I was young and could actually (just) perform fellatio upon myself. Much to
my dismay, though, I discovered that rubbing my tongue over the top of my bell end made me
pee instead of ejaculate. And it was hard to stop. So rather than flood the living-room floor with
urine, I swallowed about 2 mouthfuls. It wasn't nice . . . This little tale is the honest truth. I just
wish it wasn't . . . .
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 376
From: miked (miked)
Date: Wed, 25 May 94 18:30:25 EDT
A person comes into Bellevue. A junkie. Has massive abscesses, most of them treated and
covered. Has a lower colon thing and has to get the lower colon removed. This person owns a
townhouse on the upper east side, but doesn't live in it. Has no income but rental. And so, no
health insurance.
This person is online on a west coast provider, tho this person is an east coast inhabitant.
Experienced great fame in the late 70s. Many will recognize the name.
Person's colostomy is a success. Person returns to Bellevue at a later date, like 7 months,
complaining of fever and redness. Oh, Holy Shit! Gonorrhea in the colostomy hole!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 381
From: speed (rated "R")
Date: Fri, 27 May 94 13:30:33 EDT
Go into a restaurant, go into the bathroom, Take down the soap dispenser, empty it into the
sink, piss into it, filling it up.
Turn it over quickly, replacing the dispenser now filled w/ your urine. (nice color, looks like that
soap)
Rinse the soap out of the sink, using it to clean your hands (important step)
leave bathroom, sit in a booth where you can watch ppl going in and out. Order a burger, fries
and coke and enjoy. Now *that's a urine burn!*
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 407
From: galt (Iskender Bey)
Date: Wed, 01 Jun 94 22:36:59 EDT
Just for those who were wondering, it's entirely possible for a male to come up as pregnant on
some preliminary tests. Some preliminary pregnancy diagnoses are made based on the presence
of certain ketones in the urine in conjunction with other certain ion concentrations. I have seen
males with their very own urine told that they might be pregnant.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 415
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Sun, 05 Jun 94 11:46:50 EDT
In post 141, on May 6, I announced the Golden Turd Awards, to be given in three categories:
1. True Confession or Anecdote
2. Medical Description
3. Insult
Well, it's been a grueling process reading more than 400 posts to pick a winner in each category.
But the job is now done, and here are my choices. Most of you won't agree with me, but since I
was deranged enough to go through the odious hassle of creating the actual Turd Trophies, I
think I should give them to whoever I want. Whether the winners will be willing to ACCEPT their
trophies remains to be seen. But anyway:
Most offensive true confession or anecdote:
Post 65, by mdreyfus
First runner-up:
Post 209, by galt
Second runner-up:
Post 99, by gunfury
Most offensive medical description:
Post 215, by speed
First runner-up:
Post 242, by sheimp
Second runner-up:
Post 376, by miked
Most offensive insult:
Interest died out after just a few posts. Consequently, there will be no awards in this category.
I realize that mdreyfus may not be a popular winner, since several people have named him in
their .kill files. But look at it this way: if he can offend people even here in the Fuck-You forum,
doesn't this count in his favor? Offensiveness, after all, should not just be skin deep. It should
permeate the person like body odor and ooze out of him like warm yellow pus.
For my money, mdreyfus's description of his dog licking shit from between his buttocks is a
winner not just because the act itself is disgusting, but because the way in which mdreyfus
described himself enjoying it is also disgusting. Here we have a disgusting anecdote, told
disgustingly, by a seemingly disgusting person. Who could ask for more?
Having said this, I must emphasize that galt's description of a pimple- cultivation contest was a
very close second. Indeed it ranks as one of my all- time favorites in nauseating stories. And
gunfury's touching reminiscence of youthful sexual/scatalogical indulgences is a classic of its
kind.
Turning to the medical arena, once again I felt it was right for the Golden Turd to go to someone
who didn't just describe something disgusting, but actually i *lived* it. Thank you, speed, for
sharing this revolting experience, and congratulations on surviving it.
Thanks also to sheimp for her highly memorable post about peeling off a person's skin. We have
only just begun to tap the rich fund of case histories which medical professionals have at their
disposal (I'm still waiting for ntice to tell us about the mental patient who pulled out his own
eyeball and ate it--I do hope she'll have an opportunity to relate this in detail sometime soon).
As for the man with gonorrhea in his colostomy hole: I recently heard this anecdote from an
entirely different source, and I now suspect that it's apocryphal. Still, it deserves a mention
purely for its originality. In these decadent times, it's hard to find a truly new perversion. Thank
you, miked, for passing this on.
Now, who gets what? The winners will receive their promised golden turds. Either send me your
mailing address, or make arrangements to collect your trophies from me in person, in midtown
Manhattan. I will not describe the trophies in great detail at this time, except to say that they are
properly encapsulated, safe to handle, lovely to look at, and reasonably sterile. In a future post,
I'll go into the details of how I obtained and processed the Golden Turds. Heavy duty rubber
gloves and a strong stomach were both required, and I must admit the exercise was so
nauseating, I doubt that I'll be subjecting myself to it again for quite a while . . . I mean I'm
devoted to this forum, but dedication has its limits.
Each winner will also receive a metal commemorative button, and there are buttons also for the
runners-up. Each button is emblazoned with the message:
[YOUR NAME HERE]
Golden Turd Award, May 1994
Finalist
Fuck-You Forum, MindVox, New York
Just the thing to wear at those formal social events! Once again, I require mailing addresses to
distribute these valuable collectors' items. Or you can make arrangements to pick them up from
me in person.
Okay, so much for all that. Now let's get back to the serious business of plumbing the depths of
human behavior, shall we? Two things that caught my interest recently are compulsive bed
wetting among adults, and drooling while under the influence of drugs. I have experiences of my
own in these areas, but before I describe them, does anyone else have a story to contribute?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 418
From: speed (rated "R")
Date: Mon, 06 Jun 94 00:46:20 EDT
Of course I accept my award!
I'd like to thank my parents for being so fucked up, and all my grand parents and their parents.
I'd also like to thank Jesus Christ.
If I didn't grow up hearing that gross story of his over and over at school I probably wouldn't be
the gross son of god that I am today.
Please send me my turd.
I am *very proud!*
thank you all, *kiss* *kiss*
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 419
From: speed (rated "R")
Date: Mon, 06 Jun 94 01:00:09 EDT
Well, now I suppose is not a time to slack off. Not the grossest story but. . . .there was a request.
. . . Aside from being covered in the usual drool (which seems to be more plentiful in the opiate
addict), I had a routine I worked up back in those days.
I was on welfare at the time and they used to call me in every once in a while to try and get me
work.
Well, before I went in I'd buy a box of cherry cough drops, which I'd suck on while staring into
the fluorescent lights, muttering, outbursting, and swatting at my head and the air around it.
This never deterred them from calling my name and asking me lots of questions which I'd sorta
answer between nods. Anyway, they'd always leave me at their desk and go off to find a job or
some paper work and when they did I'd lay my head down on their desk in a pretend nod, and
drool out a cup or two of saliva which I'd worked up and had kept pooled in my mouth.
I'd just open my mouth and pour out this thick, viscous, bright red (from the cough drops)
stream of spittle all across their desk making sure to fuck up my and as much other paper work
as I could.
Needless to say they'd come back horrified, shouting and I'd "wake up" with a jolt spreading it a
round even worse.
They'd be so pissed off, this would get me a quick "unemployable" rating; they'd trash my soggy
paperwork, and give me a quick bum's rush.
Within the hour I'd be home shooting up and drooling for real, mostly Vanilla Haagen-Dazs
Drool.
(That's all I'd eat. It tasted good going down and coming back up. Ya see, I puked a few times a
day for years.)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 430
From: deckard (Cosmic Slop)
Date: Mon, 06 Jun 94 23:40:06 EDT
I've been having real foot problems . . . It started with athletes foot, but then they got so damn
itchy that i would spend at least 20 minutes just feeling the pure bliss of itching them to death.
I would pick all the dead white skin off and then my toes would get all gooshy, as I guess pus or
something came out. It felt great, but when I would wake up they would kill. Luckily I've been
able to control myself, and my feet are near healing. This however can't compare to the time two
summers ago when I had plantars warts on my feet. Ewwww.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 435
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Tue, 07 Jun 94 19:46:37 EDT
All right, all right, enough of this tame athlete's foot stuff. What I would like to know is whether
anyone on this forum has pissed in his bed, in his sleep, as an adult, involuntarily. I suspect this
may be more common than people admit. I've certainly done it. After a prolonged bout of beer
drinking I passed out and an hour or two later I dreamed I was standing in front of a great big
beautiful urinal. The temptation to piss was almost unbearable. I knew, somehow, it would NOT
be a good idea, but I didn't know why. And so--I gave in to temptation. God it felt good! Until of
course I woke up about 30 seconds later to find myself lying in my own piss. The woman
sleeping next to me was quite surprised.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 436
From: kayotae (Kayotae Blackwolf)
Date: Tue, 07 Jun 94 19:55:44 EDT
I've almost done it, been on the edge, pissed just enough to send a little trickle down the side of
my leg. I've always woken up and run to the bathroom squeezing my dick so as not to dribble all
over the place. I've yet to totally hose my bed down tho'.
On a related topic, any urophiles out there? I know someone heavily into scat but no real piss
mongers . . . except for one guy actually now that I think about it. He couldn't tell me why he
likes people pissing down his throat, he just does (shrug).
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 437
From: kieran (Classiest Snarf)
Date: Tue, 07 Jun 94 20:17:56 EDT
Once in college I passed out shit-drunk on a friend's bed. When I came to, her roommate gave
me some water to drink, but then I passed out again and spilled the glass. Then my friend came
in with some guy she was planning to fuck, and I just slurred something and walked out. They
_thought_ I had pissed on her bed, and she didn't have any other sheets to change her bed. Kind
of put a damper on the evening for her, but I was happy since the guy was an asshole.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 438
From: galt (Iskender Bey)
Date: Tue, 07 Jun 94 20:21:54 EDT
From the US Army Special Forces Medical Handbook, ST 31-91B, Chapter 22 "Primitive
Medicine," Section 3: "Maggot Therapy for Wound Debridement."
22-3. Maggot Therapy for Wound Debridement.
a. Introducing maggots into a wound can be hazardous because the wound must be exposed to
flies. Flies, because of their filthy habits, are likely to introduce bacteria into the wound, causing
additional complications. Maggots will also invade live, healthy tissue when the dead tissue is
gone or not readily available. Maggot invasion of healthy tissue causes extreme pain and
hemorrhage, possibly severe enough to be fatal.
b. Despite the hazards involved, maggot therapy should be considered a viable alternative when,
in the absence of antibiotics, a wound becomes severely infected, does not heal, and ordinary
debridement is impossible.
(1) All bandages should be removed so that the wound is exposed to circulating flies. Flies are
attracted to foul or fetid odors coming from the infected wound; they will not deposit eggs on
fresh, clean wounds.
(2) In order to limit further contamination of the wound by disease organisms carried by the
flies, those flies attracted to the wound should not be permitted to light directly on the wound
surface. Instead, their activity should be restricted to the intact skin surface along the edge of
the wound. Live maggots deposited here and/or maggots hatching from eggs deposited here will
find their way into the wound with less additional contamination than if the flies were allowed
free access to the wound.
(3) One exposure to the flies is usually all that is necessary to insure _more_ than enough
maggots for thorough debridement of a wound. Therefore, after the flies have deposited eggs,
the wound should be covered with a bandage.
(4) The bandages should be removed daily to check for maggots. If no maggots are observed in
the wound within 2 days after exposure to the flies, the bandage should be removed and the
wound should be re-exposed. If the wound is found to be teeming with maggots when the
bandage is removed, as many as possible should be removed using forceps or some other
sterilized instrument or by flushing with sterile water. Only 50-100 maggots should be allowed
to remain in the wound.
(5) Once the maggots have become established in the wound, it should be covered with a
bandage again, but the maggot activity should be monitored closely each day. A frothy fluid
produced by the maggots will make it difficult to see them. This fluid should be "sponged out"
of the wound with an absorbent cloth so that all of the maggots in the wound can be seen. Care
should be taken not to remove the maggots with the fluid.
(6) The period of time necessary for maggot debridement of a wound depends on a number of
factors, including the depth and extent of the wound, the part of the body affected, the number
of maggots present in the wound, and the fly species involved. In a survival situation, an
individual will be able to control only one of these factors--the number, and sometimes not
even that; therefore, the exact time to remove the maggots cannot be given in specific numbers
of hours or days. However, it can be said with certainty that the maggots should be removed
immediately once they have removed all the dead tissue and _before_ they have become
established in healthy tissue. When the maggots begin feeding on normal, healthy tissue, the
individual will experience an increased level of pain at the site of the wound as the maggots
come into contact with "live" nerves. Bright red blood in the wound also indicates that the
maggots have reached healthy tissue.
(7) The maggots should be removed by flushing the wound repeatedly with sterile water.
Flushing the wound with fresh human urine may also be considered, as the high content of salt
and urea is a fairly effective antiseptic. However, flushing the wound with urine _must_ be
followed with sterile water. Though urine is sterile and antiseptic when it leaves the body, it
rapidly becomes quite the opposite as it breaks down chemically.
When all the maggots have been removed, the wound should be bandaged. To insure that the
wound is free of maggots, check it every 4 hours or more often for several days. Any remaining
maggots should be removed with sterilized forceps or by flushing with sterile water.
(8) Once all of the maggots have been removed, bandage the wound and treat it as any other
wound. It should heal normally provided there are no further complications.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 440
From: gunfury (sp00nMaN)
Date: Tue, 07 Jun 94 21:05:47 EDT
(sung to the tune of "The Candyman" a' la Sammy Davis Jr.)
Get a brand new bike,
take off the seat,
put yer girlfriend on it, send her down a bumpy street
The S&M Mannnnnnnnnnnn. . . .
Cause he mixes it with cum and makes the world taste good!
Get a newborn baby,
Put 'em on yer bed,
Get yer dick up hard and fuck the soft spot in its head
The S&M Mannnnnnnnnnnn. . . .
Cause he mixes it with sperm to make the world taste good!
(u get the idea ;)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 441
From: galt (Iskender Bey)
Date: Tue, 07 Jun 94 21:21:04 EDT
Who can take a baby
spread apart its thighs
fuck it in the ass until the shit comes out its eyes The S&M man. . . .
Who can take two ice picks
stick 'em in her ears
ride her like a Harley as you mount her from the rear the S&M man. . . .
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 443
From: gunfury (sp00nMaN)
Date: Tue, 07 Jun 94 21:23:10 EDT
I haven't wet the bed in a long, long time. But I do remember clearly what it felt like as a child.
Usually I would be dreaming I was flying around in a room, all by myself . . . just as free as can
be . . . floating on a fluffy cloud of air . . . not a care in the world.
Oh shit! I just pissed all over myself ;) It's not as great a feeling though as that ever-popular
- wet dream*. I loved those. It wasn't all cum, it was cum with a subtle hint of piss too. It stained
many a good pair of underwear, but well worth the inquisition afterwards, "GunFury, Where did
all your Fruit of the Loom (tm) go dear?"
"Ah, I don't know ma!"
We all know where they went boys 'n girls. Under the neighbors back porch in a plastic baggie (I
wonder if they are still there?).
A friend who is now 25, still has wet dreams. I hate him for that. I haven't had one since I was
12. I think he has them now because of that terrible happance of D.S.B.
Dreaded Sperm Build-up
The theory behind this is that you go without ejaculating for a period of time so that yer
spermatozoa eventually comes out without sexual intercourse or, ehem, manual stimulation.
Impossible! I can't go even a few hours without one, or the other, or both. . . .
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 452
From: kayotae (Kayotae Blackwolf)
Date: Wed, 08 Jun 94 13:47:10 EDT
As close as I ever came to incest was when I was a kid, around 10-15, not sure where in that
range . . . but when I was a kid, my brother and I used to hump against each other. I don't know
if we ever got off on it, or if there was penetration of any sort, but I know we used to do it like
every night until we discovered jerking off.
"Kay, why is the bed shaking?"
"I've got an itch on my leg." (We had bunk beds . . . and I had lots of itches)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 453
From: speed (rated "R")
Date: Wed, 08 Jun 94 15:59:05 EDT
I pissed on my self during blackouts but I was never in bed. I once woke up on the street outside
my building with a piece of melted ice cream cake next to my head and lying in my own piss.
Lost about 18 hrs to 181 proof rum that night.
I once puked in a woman's loft bed, she went out to drink more, I wanted a few minutes lie
down, puked the min she left. What really sucked was that she was with this woman I thought
was really cool and who I wanted to hit on. Here I was feeling really great now (having puked)
but I couldn't go to the bar (nothing to wear but puke covered clothes). I went to sleep, the first
woman came home so shit faced she didn't know about the puke in the bed until the next
morning when we were fucking, she says "What's that horrible smell?" I liked her, she got really
pissed, *really* pissed. But she didn't stop fucking me. I liked her a lot.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 458
From: mitsc (Mitch)
Date: Thu, 09 Jun 94 14:33:08 EDT
I have several stories that would find a nice home here, but alas, so little time (I am supposed to
be working!). The urination subject brings two stories to mind, the second I'll post at a later
time.
Several times over my life I've been in such a deep sleep that I've ended up peeing in bed. I
never had a bed wetting problem (that was my younger brother) but it has happened. It's such a
strange occurrence, and I can't believe it has not happened to more people. I find myself in a
dream, and in the dream I have to pee real bad. I can remember going in the dream, and wake
up soaked! Just such a thing happened last summer.I was sleeping at my cousin's house upstate.
Yes, that's right, it wasn't even my own bed. Anyway, I sleep real deep up there, you know, it
being real quiet as opposed to the city. We had been partying pretty hard the night before and
went to sleep with my fiance about three AM. Yes, I wasn't even alone. I remember having a
really deep dream, and actually going to a bathroom and standing at a urinal in the dream. At
this point I woke up and began praying to myself that it didn't happen. Well, it did. I mean a lot.
You never realize how much you can actually pee until you do it in a bed. I began panicking.
What the was I going to do. So far I had been slightly lucky. Somehow my betrothed had not
woken up yet. Even though it was a single bed we had been sleeping at opposite ends of it. The
adrenaline started coursing through my body. What was I going to do?!? And then it hit me.
Maybe it could work. A cover up! But how? I went to the kitchen, opened up the fridge. Yes! My
cousin had orange juice!! I found the largest glass they had, and filled it to the top. I carried it
into the bedroom got back into the soaken bed (yuch!) and poured the whole glass over myself
and screamed "Shit!". With that my fiancee woke up, startled I might add, and asked what was
wrong, and "how did we get all wet?" I explained that I had been very thirsty from being drunk
the night before and had gotten up to get something to drink. When I got into bed I had
"slipped" and the glass spilled. She bought it! I never realized it, but O.J. really can cover up the
smell of piss!
By this time the rest of the house was waking up (it was about 8:00 AM) and my cousin and his
wife came into to the room to find out what had happened. Nobody could figure out what made
me puke when the dog started licking the bed!
My fiancee and I are now married, and to his day she still doesn't know the real truth, nor will
she ever. At least until, god forbid, it happens again!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 464
From: charles (Charles Platt)
Date: Thu, 09 Jun 94 19:06:16 EDT
A long time ago, I wrote a story in which a person eats excrement. At the time, I asked my
friends if anyone knew what shit tastes like. No one could tell me (several of them were
offended that I should imagine they might know). Back then, there was no Fuck-You forum to
turn to, so I just had to fake it. But now that this resource exists, I'm hoping someone can finally
clear up this mystery for me.
What *does* shit taste like?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 465
From: sorel (oooh)
Date: Thu, 09 Jun 94 19:13:38 EDT
i can't speak from personal experience. but this is from "The Leatherman's Handbook", ed. Larry
Townsend:
Another friend, who occasionally delves into the scat scene, told me: "Sure, shit stinks. There's
no way to deny that, but once you get past the smell it isn't all that bad. If you eat it, it tastes
just like whatever the guy has eaten, except that it has a burned flavor to it."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 467
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Thu, 09 Jun 94 19:13:38 EDT
Just a quick note to confirm that mdreyfus's golden turd went out to him this morning via the
US Postal Service, and commemorative buttons for the runners-up were also mailed. Sorry for
the delay.
Speed, I still have your trophy. It doesn't seem to be visibly deteriorating, but you never know, if
you wait too long, anything might happen. Suggest you make arrangements to collect it ASAP so
that you can be sure there will still be something for you to collect.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 473
From: kayotae (Kayotae Blackwolf)
Date: Thu, 09 Jun 94 20:55:12 EDT
I was kissing my dog, letting him lick the inside of my mouth really, and I saw this little piece of
cat turd drop out of his jowls. That's when I realized he had been downstairs eating the cat shits
and now he was licking inside my mouth! I practically drank the Listerine.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 496
From: gunfury (sp00nMaN)
Date: Sat, 11 Jun 94 09:48:13 EDT
charles (Charles Platt) writes:
> What DOES shit taste like?
Tastes like chicken
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 497
From: gunfury (sp00nMaN)
Date: Sat, 11 Jun 94 09:51:46 EDT
This wasn't funny at the time, but looking back I get a big kick out of it. I was away on a trip for
a week and I really missed my girlfriend a lot. By the time I got home, I was so horned up I
couldn't take it. It was late when I got in, so she was already under the covers, sleeping when I
arrived. I decided to sneak into bed and just go at it. I pulled my clothes off and came under the
covers from the bottom of the bed and worked my way over to her legs. I pulled her legs apart
and started going down on her. She was really wet, but I didn't think anything about it. As I got
into this further, she started to wake up and said something like, "No hun, don't" in a "you
shouldn't be doing that" tone. It turns out the reason she was so wet was because she was heavy
into her period. I discovered I had managed to pull out her tampon with my teeth, and I was
chewing part of it like a wad of chewing gum. I had thick clots of blood running down my face
and chin. It was a horrible taste, mainly because of the tampon. The blood wasn't the usual
"finger cut" type obviously, so the reaction from both of us was sheer disgust. We went out for a
while after that, but we no longer see each other in a dating capacity. When I do bump into her
though, it is very awkward to say the least.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 499
From: barton (Annihilate)
Date: Tue, 14 Jun 94 13:11:55 EDT
When my brother was in Saudi Arabia, he and the other infantry guys passed some of the time
with a biggest turd contest.
If someone thought they had produced a qualifying entry, he would have to call all the other
guys over to inspect it.
My brother was well-prepared for this contest . . . my mother had been feeding him mineral oil
by the gallon since he was a small child just to get him to produce anything. So he was used to
saving it up.
One morning he produced the turd of all turds. The grandest turd of them all. Even the tanks
steered around that one. My brother was a legend.
He was so proud that he took a picture of it and sent it home to mom and dad. Mineral Oil
Revenge. You gotta love that guy.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 501
From: galt (Iskender Bey)
Date: Tue, 14 Jun 94 19:21:08 EDT
Large disgusting turds are a staple of military existence because of the disgusting food they feed
us, known as "MRE's" (meals ready to eat, or excrete). Some soldiers make a career of finding
new disgusting phrases to match that acronym.
When I was doing the ROTC thing in college, we often did field exercises in the Ranger mountain
phase training area. Ranger training, as you may know, is the most savage psychic and physical
torture a human being may legally be forced to endure. At any rate, their feeding habits are
quite odd . . . they don't eat for a couple of weeks at a time, and then they gorge themselves.
However, due to the nonstop nature of the missions they go on, they are forced to hold their
feces for long periods of time. The combined effect of this is that Rangers produce exceedingly
large feces, which we'd run across in the woods from time to time. Ranger turds are extremely
large, odiferous, solid, and generally disgusting. The most common on observation upon first
seeing one is the incredible pain it must have taken to expel it.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 504
From: simonm (wuow!s)
Date: Wed, 15 Jun 94 03:03:37 EDT
I never found going down on a menstruating woman to be a big hassle. Then again, I've never
just chewed on a tampon--that sounds like the problem. Menstrual blood really doesn't taste
bad at all.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 511
From: mitsc (Mitch)
Date: Fri, 17 Jun 94 12:01:18 EDT
Sometimes I get so constipated I feel like the shit inside me is boiling up to eye level, and if you
looked in my pupils they would be half brown!
On the other hand, isn't it great when you take that shit after being constipated? Actually the
first part usually hurts because the end of the turd becomes so large from being backed up in
the intestine it feels like its gonna rip your sphincter muscles apart. But sometimes after being
stuffed up I take that banana shit. Ah, the banana shit, it's so glorious. Thin, _very_ long, and
curved like a banana as it floats in all its brown-green beauty. It has that soft texture and keeps
coming and coming until it softly lands into the bowl. It makes that soft landing from being so
long the front of it is on the bottom of the bowl. I've produced some that look as long as the
distance from your wrist to your elbow.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 514
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Sat, 18 Jun 94 14:10:53 EDT
There's a story that I have been putting off telling ever since the advent of this forum. It is so
hideously embarrassing, I cringe from the task of writing it.
I grew up in a backwoods kind of area, very primitive. One of the many things that we lacked
was decent toilet paper. The stuff was thin, nonabsorbent, and it made my ass sore.
Consequently, I have to admit I tended to be a bit sloppy about cleaning up after taking a shit.
The situation was made worse by infrequent bathing (again, because of primitive facilities).
As I became a teenager, I started growing hairs around the pubic area and behind the scrotum.
One day, I noticed that these hairs were, to put it bluntly, clogged with particles of *dry shit*.
("Dingleberries," right?)
I thought of a relatively painless way of cleaning up this mess: Kleenex and hand lotion. I went
into the bathroom, got the hand lotion, then went into my bedroom for the tissues. By this time,
someone else was using the toilet, so I got to work in my bedroom and dumped the mess of
soiled tissues, dried shit, and torn-off hairs on top of a heap of papers in my waste basket. (Big
mistake.) Something distracted me, and I forgot to empty the waste basket. (Bigger mistake.)
That evening, a bunch of friends came to visit--among them, a girl I particularly wanted to
impress. Everyone was sitting around in my room, when someone looked at the waste basket.
"Jesus Christ," he said, "What have you been doing? You've been taking shit and wiping your ass
and dumping the tissues *here?*" (Tactful fellow.)
It was a singular moment. I could think of nothing to say. I just sat there, totally blank, feeling
time freeze around me. In fact the situation was so _weird_, no one ever mentioned it again.
But I never got the girl.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 517
From: speed (Deep Throat)
Date: Sun, 19 Jun 94 16:20:56 EDT
I don't really have any embarrassing shit stories, except maybe the other day.
I get diarrhea when I don't eat any thing til late in the day, anyway, I ate a pizza at about 6pm
real fast, first food of the day, then I went to a meeting, at about 7pm after the meeting I said
good bye to a few folks and sneezed.
I had pretty seriously shit my pants, wet, mucky, and particularly smelly shit on a 90 degrees +
day! Also, since I was only going to the meeting I didn't have cab fare, I didn't wanna risk asking
my doordude esp. stinking of shit. So I ducked into a restaurant restroom (they didn't have
much paper, either) tried to fix it a little (NG, prob. worse) and walked about 15 blocks home
where my GF says, "Whewph!!
Waddidya shit in your pants?! Nice day.
Anyway I was really posting to tell you about a Puerto Rican friend of mine who used to take a
wire hanger into the toilet w/him to break up his toilet chokers.
He'd wave it proudly on the way in, his having told us previously what it was for.
"Rice an' beans," he'd yell, waving the hanger, "rice an' beans."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 518
From: alster (retsla)
Date: Mon, 20 Jun 94 11:54:13 EDT
Last summer, I was on a crew in a bike race called the Race Across America (RAAM). Basically, it's
non-stop across the country--with different categories (solo, team, etc.). My group was in the
team competition. Being non- stop, taking a crap was pretty inconvenient.
One of the rules at night was that there had to be a car behind the rider for safety reasons. I was
driving this pace car (a mini van) at night in Arkansas when my fellow crew member, John,
indicated that he had to take a crap. For the past few nights, we had no problem switching
drivers while in motion (we were only going about 25mph) and taking a leak out the sliding side
door.
Taking a dump out of a moving vehicle would be a challenge. We also had no toilet paper, no
tissues -- no napkins neither. However, we did have a large Post-It pad. So John climbs out and
sits on the edge of the passenger side door window, holding onto the roof rack, drops his shorts
and proceeds to shit. He tells me that he has a hanging turd, so I pull up alongside our rider
who basically freaks out and then rode a lot faster :).
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 533
From: galt (Big Slack Daddy)
Date: Thu, 23 Jun 94 00:18:43 EDT
I just thought I'd pass this on since I just remembered it . . . before I had my much-ballyhooed
rectal surgery, my bunghole was all messed up such that it would expand to gargantuan
proportions but only in a sort of trapezoid/rhomboid shape. Because of this, I found myself
regularly launching huge loo-stranglers shaped like 2X4 planks, streaked with bloody red racing
stripes. It hurt like the devil, sure, but I feel a certain kinship with sawmills after the experience.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 545
From: sorel (Plomo!)
Date: Thu, 23 Jun 94 18:01:45 EDT
i really know someone who actually had a rat come up out of the toilet. at least it was found
floating dead in the toilet in a closed bathroom with no other possible means of entry.
i know this is an urban folklore. but it really happened to a friend of mine.
the worst part is that she was going into the bathroom to puke at the time.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 548
From: galt (Big Slack Daddy)
Date: Thu, 23 Jun 94 21:03:17 EDT
Let me tell you a true story about a friend of mine in the Navy (well, it's not about him . . . or
maybe it is . . . anyway, he told me the story). Large Navy ships store their waste for a while and
then eject it downward from the hull in a maneuver known as the "bottom blow." During the
bottom blow, there is a huge amount of over pressure in all the toilets. They broadcast the time
of the bottom blow in advance and warn people not to flush during this time, but inevitably
somebody fucks up and flushes during the bottom blow. this results in the contents of the
individual toilet (and then some) being blown out of the toilet all over the restroom, whereupon
the dazed rookie stumbles out of the loo with sewage all over him and shit in his hair. Kinda
funny, I think.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 550
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Thu, 23 Jun 94 22:32:59 EDT
I'm interested by galt's descriptions of multifaceted turds (how could I *not* be interested?).
Personally I have a small, old hemorrhoid and have noticed that when the shit is reasonably soft,
this little blob of a vein leaves a distinctive groove down the length of each stool. I imagine that
this could be used forensically, to identify a suspect. What interests me more is the subject of
_rectal itching_.
I developed this out of nowhere when my wife got pregnant for the first time and I was in a
state of anxiety bordering on panic. I've been plagued by it on and off ever since. Apparently it
is commonly associated with tension. Anyway, it drives me nuts. Sometimes I wake up in the
night and find that I have been scratching my own anus (did anyone say "eeeww"?). When the
itching is at its peak, scratching that area, or lubricating my finger and pushing it rapidly in and
out of the anal opening, provides a feeling of relief that's almost orgasmic. Following which I
have to wash my hands with antibacterial soap. Anyone else suffer from this condition? No, I
didn't think so. . . .
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 555
From: mrbass (Bill Bass)
Date: Fri, 24 Jun 94 09:55:49 EDT
C'mon--everyone scratches their arse once in a while. sometimes after a nice bike ride, tho, i
dunno what is in the lycra or whatever, but i would assume liddle shard-like fibers that love to
dig right into my crack. You just have to scratch, scratch, scratch. I have not gone off the deep
end and basically fingered myself, but i have itched long and hard. but, as my brother has done
before me--i cannot always resist the temptation to sniff my fingers when i am all done.
I don't know why i do it, but it really smells bad sometimes.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 562
From: mitsc (Mitch)
Date: Fri, 24 Jun 94 18:15:51 EDT
Regarding anal itching, Felcher's itch. Isn't there anybody else out there that uses Tucks to wipe
their ass??? It's so refreshing. Gets up in there and cleans, leaving no traces to irritate that anus.
God, my whole family uses it. (Except my newlywed wife, although I think she's been
experimenting!)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 563
From: mrbass (Bill Bass)
Date: Fri, 24 Jun 94 18:59:47 EDT
I don't stick my fingers *up* my ass, i merely scratch it profusely. and i don't want any one of
your smart asses saying oh shure, just like, no ma--i was just scratching the area *around my
nose,* i wasn't picking or any of that crap. but fine, i pick my butt, and it feels good.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 566
From: charles (Charles Platt)
Date: Fri, 24 Jun 94 19:57:25 EDT
I imagine there are some atheists in this forum, and some sociopaths, and I imagine some of
them have stayed in motel rooms where you open the drawer in the bedside table and you find
a Gideon Bible. At which point, has anyone felt a terrible compulsion to draw obscene pictures
in it?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 570
From: simonm (wuow!s)
Date: Sat, 25 Jun 94 00:46:11 EDT
When I was little me and my sibs would sometimes take a bible out into the parking lot and light
'em on fire, than stamp it out and put the charred mess back into the drawer.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 582
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Sat, 25 Jun 94 14:34:06 EDT
One time I checked into a sleazy motel in Kansas, opened the Gideon bible, and found in it an
amateurish drawing of a naked woman in bondage giving oral sex to a priest. Was this one of
your efforts, charles?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 587
From: charles (Charles Platt)
Date: Sat, 25 Jun 94 19:00:45 EDT
Here's some Christmas carols for atheists. Why should atheists not have something appropriate
to sing during the festive season?
There is No Hell (to the tune of The First Noel)
The vision of hell
That the churches display
Is to frighten poor people
And make them obey
No hell, no hell
No, there is no hell
No nasty hot place
Where sinners must dwell
Be a crook all your life
You can cheat, steal, and lie
There'll be no one to punish you
After you die
No hell, no hell
No, there is no hell
Only hokum from priests
With religion to sell
O Come Ye Unfaithful
O come ye unfaithful
Free and independent
Come ye, O come ye, to Golgotha's hill
Judas has failed him
Now we're going to nail him
O come let us defy him
O come let us deny him
O come let's crucify him
Christ the fraud
Christ said, surrender
To the holy splendour
Fear god's omnipotence and bow to his will Christ said he saved us
Truly he enslaved us
O come let us defy him
O come let us deny him
O come let's crucify him
Christ the fraud
God Rot Ye Holy Gentlemen
God rot ye holy gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
No burden is too great for you
No price you wouldn't pay
The good lord gives you cancer
But you praise him as you pray
For relief from your suffering and pain
Suffering and pain
For relief from your suffering and pain
God rot ye holy gentlemen
Believe the biggest lie
That god looks down with love upon
His children from on high
And lovingly he watches
While we sicken, starve, and die
How he smiles at our suffering and pain
Sing it again!
How he smiles at our suffering and pain!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 625
From: charles (Charles Platt)
Date: Mon, 27 Jun 94 01:27:57 EDT
A friend of mine has asked me to include the following story here, because she can't find a
suitable forum for it on Panix, which is where she hangs out:
"I went for a bicycle ride recently and needed to urinate. I went into a toilet in a bar, and I
squatted above the seat, because I never sit on the seats in public toilets. There was no hook to
hang my backpack, and I wasn't going to put it on the floor, so there I was, wearing my
backpack, squatting above the seat, with my spandex shorts around my ankles, and just to make
it even more difficult, I had my period. Whenever I have my period, I always have to hold up the
string from the tampon while I urinate, because otherwise the urine can run down the string
and end up in unpredictable places. Well, this time, I held the string at the wrong angle or
something, and the flow of urine touched it without my realizing it, and it got diverted down my
leg, down into my sock, which it stained yellow. So I had to wipe my leg with toilet paper,it was
really disgusting. And I had to finish my bike ride with a sock soaked in urine."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 643
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Tue, 28 Jun 94 15:08:43 EDT
Here's an interesting development from the sex industry: there is now an active trade in
second-hand breast implants.
I hear from a friend of mine in the business that a well-known porn star with extremely large
breast implants decided recently to "downsize" herself. She made her decision after an incident
after she leaned over a barbecue, and one of her huge tits was severely singed.
It so happens that her implants are the old type, containing some silicone (before the FDA
created such panic that manufacturers ceased marketing anything but pure saline implants).
The silicone type are, in effect, collectors' items at this point. Consequently, the porn star has
been able to *sell* her used implants (for $1,000) to a younger porn star, who is also paying for
having them removed and cleaned.
This may sound hard to believe, but it was told to me by a magazine editor who is personally
acquainted with one of the women.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 646
From: mitsc (Mitch)
Date: Wed, 29 Jun 94 11:03:58 EDT
In college an enterprising buddy and myself tried to contact teh companies that manufacture
breast implants so that we could sell (unused) ones as paperweights. We thought it would be
great as a low priced item. They are clear and shaped like a breast, feel like a breast, perfect for
the businessman who needs to relieve a little stress. Turns out they were very expensive to buy,
plus none of the companies wanted to take us seriously. We looked into manufacturing it
ourselves, but never really followed through. Probably would have made a lot of money during
the breast implant scare.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 647
From: galt (Big Slack Daddy)
Date: Wed, 29 Jun 94 11:29:11 EDT
When I was in med school, one of our cadavers (female) had saline breast implants (perfectly
intact). We also had cadavers with long painted nails, which was kind of weird. You get used to
seeing these bodies not as former people, but as grayish hunks of meat. It changes everything
when you start seeing painted nails, gold teeth, and tattoos.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 651
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Wed, 29 Jun 94 15:13:24 EDT
Anyone here have problems generating excessive amounts of ear wax? Anyone here enjoy
flushing it out with a soft rubber bulb syringe and seeing great big gunky bits of dark brown
(almost black) wax spattering into the bathtub, some of them with little shreds of skin like tissue
attached?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 660
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Fri, 01 Jul 94 03:03:11 EDT
I suppose I should really tackle a subject which I have been putting off for a while: sucking your
own dick. At one time I admit I was obsessed with this idea. At first, it seemed physically
impossible. But if I lay on my back on the floor, then brought up my knees till my back was
curled and my legs were either side of my head, I could brace my feet on the wall behind me,
wrap my arms around behind my knees, and force my spine into a smaller radius, so that my
cock dangled temptingly above my mouth. Three problems: this position was extremely
uncomfortable and antierotic, my genitals were positioned high relative to the rest of my body
so all the blood tended to flow away from them (just what I did NOT want), and it was quite
impossible to view masturbation aids such as porno magazines. Still, I mastered the technique
of masturbating in a normal position till I was *almost* ready to come, and then flipping over
into the auto-erotic position in which I could _just about_
make oral-genital contact. And after a lot of painful attempts, I finally managed to ejaculate into
my own mouth.
It tasted like swallowing my own snot (which I suppose will not be news to some of our readers
here).
Has anyone else experimented with auto-erotic techniques? Did you have an easier time of it
than I did? Did it provide a special form of fulfillment?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 661
From: microdot (dork@micro.com)
Date: Fri, 01 Jul 94 03:37:09 EDT
the problem for me always was: i was getting a blow job, but i was also sucking dick. i couldn't
concentrate on both. it just didn't work. and yeah, the taste of ones own cum isn't something i
enjoyed either.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 666
From: b00tzi (gotopless)
Date: Fri, 01 Jul 94 17:55:28 EDT
Felchmeister: What an interesting little story you shared with us. I've always wondered if guys
could give themselves blow jobs--now I have the answer. The guy I sleep with, rather, the guy I
have sex with, says he's never wanted to try it. I find it difficult to believe that he doesn't want
to. Anyway, point being, guys always have the upper hand . . . err, the upper lip . . . in everything.
It's my goal and dream in life to be flexible enough to lick myself into absolute oblivion--I'll
keep you posted as to my progress.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 678
From: simonm (wuow!s)
Date: Wed, 06 Jul 94 01:30:38 EDT
Re drinking urine--I hardly see why people make such a fuss about it. It's really pretty dilute. I
went through a month or two or drinking my urine on a regular basis and it's really pretty
tasteless, if a bit salty.
Eating snot has to be grosser, but picking your nose doesn't seem all that bad in itself. Just
remember to wipe your fingers before touching anything else.
Eating your own shit, I have to admit, it still beyond me.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 679
From: slowdog (trash)
Date: Wed, 06 Jul 94 01:43:39 EDT
Um, why were you drinking your own urine?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 683
From: simonm (wuow!s)
Date: Wed, 06 Jul 94 02:00:58 EDT
Well, some people were talking about how it was neato that you could do it and not experience
any bad effects, and I was feeling generally transgressive, and wanted to try it. I gave it up after
6 weeks or so, and never really drank more than a pint or so a day.
The weirdest part is how warm it is.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 689
From: charles (Charles Platt)
Date: Wed, 06 Jul 94 09:23:51 EDT
Hey, simonm, how can you be so cruel to post a message like this without more detail?
Like--how did you collect the urine? How much was there? Was it the real dark-yellow stuff, or
relatively dilute? Did eating different foods change the way the urine tasted afterward? Did you
try drinking the infamous "asparagus urine"? Did anyone else know what you were doing? This
is really interesting! (To me, anyway.)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 692 of 700
From: simonm (wuow!s)
Date: Wed, 06 Jul 94 13:53:11 EDT
I'm glad to know you care, charles.
It really wasn't that complicated; I'd just take a glass with me when I went to piss. The only
really challenging part of it was keeping the urine from splashing out; I dunno about other guys,
but when I start urinating I really unload full blast. I found that the best tactic was to grab ahold
of my penis right behind the head and apply a bit of pressure on the underside to control the
rate of flow. That'd let me fill the glass without wetting the front of my shirt. I have to admit the
first couple of times I was a bit squeamish about dripping on my hands, but I figgered, hell, I'm
gonna drink the stuff, right? It was surprising to see how much there actually was . . . easily
several quarts a day, though I kept my intake down to a cup or two, to avoid any kind of serious
toxin buildup. I tend to drink a lot of water and juice, and I eat a relatively good diet (veggies
and grains, mostly) so I figured it couldn't be *that* toxic. I never really noticed any strong taste,
other than the surprising saltiness. Garlic was one of the few tastes that survived, tasting rather
the way that farts smell after you've eaten a whole head of garlic--warm and mellow. It did
kinda flip some people out--my mother in particular--but she assumed, correctly, that I'd get
over it on my own, and left me to it. I never really renounced it, it just got boring . . . Though I
have to say that writing about it kind of makes me want to try it again.
I mean, hell, why not, right?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 684
From: mrvented (bazzfazz)
Date: Wed, 06 Jul 94 07:11:38 EDT
Met a man who really got off on licking the snot out of my nose. Have to admit it felt really
strange french-kissing him afterwards.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 688
From: charles (Charles Platt)
Date: Wed, 06 Jul 94 09:19:57 EDT
One time I wanted to lick snot out of my girlfriend's nose, but she wouldn't let me. I have also
wanted to extract snot from someone's nose using my finger. Again, my offer was refused.
Did you have a lot of snot (maybe you were suffering from a cold at the time)?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 694
From: mrvented (bazzfazz)
Date: Wed, 06 Jul 94 17:35:16 EDT
I had a steady nasal drip from summer allergies. On the drive back to my place he kept licking
my fingers and stuffing them into his mouth. I'd been climbing around on some rocks in the
park and they were pretty grimy. I had my shirt off and as soon as we were inside he buried his
face in my armpit and started licking. He worked my chest, neck and ears over with his tongue
(he also seemed to have a thing for ear wax). When he covered my nose with his mouth and
started licking and sucking it just seemed sort of the next logical move.
I didn't like him trying to suck it out of my nose. But when he'd work his tongue into a nostril,
that did feel good.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 696
From: b00tzi (gotopless)
Date: Thu, 07 Jul 94 00:18:27 EDT
Felchmeister, perhaps you'll enjoy this one. The BF and I are in my apartment one evening
having a randy old time. Drinking rum & cokes, blasting the tunes, dancing around. I mean,
we're having *fun.
Carrying on all evening, as I would refill my glass every 10 minutes or so, really slamming the
cocktails down, but never noticing the amount of my intake. Around 2 in the morning, we decide
to crawl up into the loft. The minute my head hits the pillow, I turn to him and tell him, "I think
I'm gonna be sick" and proceed to try to crawl down the ladder to go to the bathroom. His
version of this story is that he lowered me down the ladder, fearing that I'd fall and never get up
again. I make it safely to the bathroom, where I decide I'm not going to throw up. I decide to
take a bath instead. So I fill up the tub with water and bubble bath, and dip myself into the
warm water. Ahhhhhh. Doesn't that feel good, I say to myself. The BF wanted to stay in the
bathroom to make sure I wasn't about to slam my head on the tub, or sink, or toilet, but I made
him leave, as I didn't want an audience in case I did toss it. Back to the tub. As I'm sitting in the
water that has floating bubbles everywhere, they begin to multiply and float into the air--my
vision blurred, my head reeling. The stomach begins to lurch--I feel like the guy at the table in
the movie ALIEN--
With one major push I begin throwing up--all over myself, in the water, all over the
bubbles--BF hears the retching sound and strolls into the bathroom, while gorgeous, sexy,
curvaceous GF is covered in vomit, sitting in a tub of vomit. BF gets into the vomit tub, unplugs
the drain, turns on the shower where the gooey parts of the vomit are clogging the drain--and
he proceeds to stomp on them until they're crushed into tiny pieces swirling down the drain. He
showers the vomit off of me and off of himself, then I decided to throw up on both of us. (Mind
you, while I am typing this, I am asking him to fill in the blanks, since I really can't regurgitate all
that much.) So, I threw up again and asked him to once again leave the bathroom. I decide now
to roll up in a ball on the floor of the bathroom and go to sleep. He thought I passed out. He
calls a friend of his on the West Coast in a total panic, asking him what to do. He thought I was
dead, I was just drunk.
This is the end of my story. P.S. The next time I got drunk with him, it was in the plaza of his
hometown, where I proceeded to punch him in front of all his neighbors. (Whoops.) Joe Louis
would've been proud.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 699
From: gorelord (Lamen)
Date: Thu, 07 Jul 94 21:07:19 EDT
One of my pals at work mentioned that he likes to sniff coke out of his girlfriend's asshole. He
also insisted that nose and butt hole fit perfectly together and the effect of drugs is orgasmic . . .
any comments?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 701
Subject: Turd Award Postmortem
From: felcher (Jim Felcher)
Date: Sun, 10 Jul 94 21:33:36 EDT
Some time ago, I promised to describe the Golden Turd Award in more detail.
First I obtained some fresh cat turds. I have two cats, so this was no problem, though I did have
to pick and choose to get some really nicely formed, firm turds with fine detail.
Having scooped them out of the litter box, I put them on paper towels and carried them to the
bathroom. There, I placed each turd on a slotted spoon and lowered it into the toilet, where I
agitated it gently to wash off the particles of kitty litter. This was a delicate business, since too
much washing threatened to degrade the all-important turd-texture or even dissolve the turd
completely.
Incidentally, in case you imagine that I actually enjoy this kind of thing, the smell of the cat shit
coupled with the procedure of dunking it in the toilet made me feel quite nauseated.
Have cleaned the turds, I carried them (once again, on paper towels) down to the basement. I left
them on top of the water heater, where the ambient temperature is around 100 degrees and the
humidity is low.
Two weeks later I retrieved the turds, which were now nice and dry. Handling them with rubber
gloves, I set them on some newspaper and spray- painted them gold. After waiting for the paint
to dry, I then dabbed a little transparent epoxy glue on each turd and placed it in a clear acrylic
box of the type that is sold in plastics stores. I glued the turds in place because I didn't want
them to rattle around after I mailed them to the lucky winners.
Lastly, using a "Badge-a-Minit" kit, I prepared some commemorative buttons for winners and
the runners-up, using artwork that depicted a turd emitting mystical beams of light. Each
button was customized with the name of the recipient.
Now for the sad part. I sent a golden turd to mdreyfus--and the disgusting little pervert never
even said "thank you"! I sent buttons to the lucky runners-up--and no one even mentioned
receiving anything! I reminded speed (the other winner) to collect his golden turd, and he did
leave a message for me when I was out of town, but since then, he seems to have lost interest in
the whole thing.
Well, I suppose this is the attitude I should have expected from people who contribute to a
forum named Fuck You! I still have speed's turd sitting on top of my refrigerator, and I think I'll
keep it. I think I deserve it.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 702
From: pas (Wild.Boy)
Date: Mon, 11 Jul 94 02:33:08 EDT
My old boyfriend told me about a job his very best friend did a few years prior to disappearing.
She was trying to get through college without working, so she got a job as an eye snatcher. She
spent 5 days/week in an eye bank, doing regular shifts, waiting for notification that one of the
donors had died. Once informed, she then went to the deceased and with specialized eye
extraction tools, would gently yank the eye out of its socket.
It sounded pretty depressing. Evidently, she didn't stick around too long.
That also reminds me of another dead eye-motif story. Prior to his death, JP Sartre, who had
notoriously bad eyesight, had stipulated that his eyes should be re-used after his death. A
right-wing French newspaper commented in a headline after the operation: "Thanks to the
Great Philosopher, a blind man can now squint."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Post: 712
From: holski (Edger Holski)
Date: Wed, 13 Jul 94 10:57:55 EDT
for those of you who don't know what a nail gun is, i offer the following description:
a nail gun is a mechanical device that replaces the hammer. you may have seen some guy up on
a roof walking around half bent over with a machine that went "poof" every time he pushed it
against the roof. that was a nail gun. some nail guns are pneumatic (they are driven by an air
compressor) and some use small-caliber cartridges to drive the nails. in any case they all share
the safety feature of needing to be pressed against something in order to fire a nail. a trigger at
the "barrel" needs to be pressed against the roof or what ever at the same time the finger trigger
is pressed.
why am i telling you this?
well in spite of this seemingly well thought out safety scheme, nail guns are involved in a variety
of rather amusing accidents all the time.
one way to circumvent the safety is simply to hold the barrel trigger in while you spray your
fellow construction works with semi-automatic nail gun fire. this unfortunately rarely leads to
injury, as nails are not well designed for flight. however another common misuse of the guns is
responsible for some truly amusing self inflicted wounds.
because of the double trigger safety, it is common practice for roofers and framers (who drive
lots of nail each day) to simply walk around holding the finger trigger down, driving nails in to
things by simply pressing the gun against the surface. they get so in the habit of holding down
the trigger that they walk around with the trigger pressed, and invariably the barrel trigger
bumps into something that doesn't need to get nailed, especially the back of the walkers calf.
(Picture it in your head, guy's holding the thing in his right hand, hey joe com'ere. walks over,
right arm going forward as the left leg is coming back and . . . puka! *Ow! Son of a bitch!*)
a friend of mine who works in an emergency room saw one of these guys, nailed right through
the meat of his calf and into the tibia (of was it fibia?) anyway, while they waiting for the bone
doctor to get there, the two of them are talking and my friend says, "that must hurt." and the
guy says "not as much as the first time."