I Shit Myself in Idaho

In college I sharted my undies. I did the same in second grade. Both times it was fucking disgusting, and no I don’t poop my pants on a regular basis. Sometimes shit happens. I slipped to a bathroom to assess the damage. Not a 9/11 but perhaps on par with OKC. A rather uncontrolled demolition. Great. I scrubbed them with soap and blasted half a can of Lysol. As I panicked in the bathroom my friends watched a film starring Dennis Rodman in a dorm five feet away. They had no idea I was in the midst of a mini-crisis. The almost trauma I’d just gone through. Shit smeared undies and a no budget cover-up. I lay in wait for the Anal Explosion of ’06 truthers to emerge.

Years later I shit my pants in Idaho. Didn’t know it ’til I entered North Dakota. I was driving from Oregon to just shy of Minnesota. En route I slept in the trunk of my car at a rest stop in Montana. Somewhere approaching Missoula. This being my usual routine for the dozens of times I’ve trekked the country. Hammer out a ton of driving then crash at a rest stop. Sleep in my car or atop a picnic table.

I pulled in and crawled to the trunk. Come morning the temps felt frigid but I needed to piss. In this tight space I scanned for something to relieve myself in. A urinary receptacle. I keep a Tropicana for this act but couldn’t come up with it. Instead I found a water bottle and did my best. Misplaced morning wood made a hard job harder.

As I peed the rank piss poured on me. I only emptied half my bladder before screwing the cap. I sopped piss with napkins but the damage was done. Pants and undies wet. They dried up enough and I was too tired to change them. I stepped out to spray orange ammonia on a dumpster then set off for North Dakota.

It was a long drive only made harder as I hadn’t slept well. Felt burnt out. I slapped my face and screamed to up my levels. There were many unpicturesque miles ahead. The flats of Montana are god’s worst abortion, only beaten by the miscarriage that is North Dakota.

For hundreds of miles I drove through yellow hills and trailer towns. Passed cities that stunk of feces. Places best used for nuclear testing without first warning the populace. For finding the missing link between man and a pile of pig shit. I stopped as little as possible, just trying to barrel through. Hoping the locals wouldn’t mistake my face for a cow’s asshole and fuck it. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.

After many hours I wound down at a rest stop one mile into the wretched state of North Dakota. I pissed on interstate off ramps but now needed to wring my ass empty. In a bathroom stall I realized I’d shit my pants. Not a lot but enough. I inspected the damage. Streaky crusts clung to butt. To undies now fucked. I couldn’t believe I’d greased my shorts and not known.

In tracing back when this could’ve happened I placed the event in the Idaho panhandle. An errant attempt at intestinal relief. I passed through Idaho the night before. That meant I carried shit in my pants across three states. Slept with underoos of doodoo. It was neither the first nor last time I shit myself. Just a burden I gotta carry.

If you’re a billionaire who likes my writing but can’t cum unless you help me afford more than dumpster food then you’re in luck. Ways to support my work can be found here: https://gabfrab.com/make-a-wish-gross-hobo-edition/

35 thoughts on “I Shit Myself in Idaho

  1. Not a billionaire yet, so how about a half-hearted comment?
    Whenever I shart, preferably in public, I smile at my wife and yell at her what happened. She then just blankly rolls her eyes. Not a regular either, maybe once a year? Spicy food doesn’t help though..

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “Hoping the locals wouldn’t mistake my face for a cow’s asshole and fuck it.” Priceless!

    “It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened.” Mayhaps a story/post in the near later hereafter?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ah it’s awesome that you look forward to my stuff. Thank you! I have a lot of things near completion so will be putting out a piece a week for at least the next few months.

      Also, I have thought about toning down my titles but just go with my gut. It prob stops some people from reading but fuck it haha.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Misplaced morning wood made a hard job harder.

    Fucking brilliant sentence. Kudos. I have a friend who shit his pants on a train to Chinatown and put his underwear in a dumpster before going into a club.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Haha good god that gave me a laugh. Your poor friend. I think he made the wise decision.

      I appreciate the kind words and you taking the time to read my shit!


  4. And I’m broke but I just looked and there’s no dildos on your Amazon wish list. When I’m not broke anymore I’ll buy you some nuts.

    I have student loans to pay so I can have this high life of eating ramen while I hope my rent check doesn’t bounce crying watching the office cause I’m bullshit Jim and Pam didn’t divorce.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I need to add diesel powered vibrators to my list. Please send me like 50-60 dildos so I can fill all holes, all my sugar grandpa’s holes, and still have backups. I bought a knock off Fleshlight and when I get the guts someday I’ll write a humorous account of my bad experiences with it.

      You sound like a fuggin high roller. Maybe stir the ramen with a dildo and see what happens. Best of luck out there and thanks again for reading 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. When I eat ramen, I’m covered in it. That’s a lot of dildos. If I have to get into porn, I believe my name should be Dirty Dildos. It’s classy; it’s real.

        Thanks for writing. I’ll also wear my period underwear if I succumb to doing porn.

        Diesel is a smart move, get that Mobil Express card.

        Liked by 1 person

  5. you make me laugh so much. Have you thought of learning meditation techniques? With said techniques, in my experience, you can train your mind and body to be alert to upcoming scenarios such as faeces release. A couple of times I farted and almost pooed by accident, but using deep meditation skills I was able to, at the speed of light, contract my anus so that only a miniscule amount escaped. Also, meditation can help transcend self and lead to total spiritual enlightenment (a side bonus after shit control). Hope this helps. Also, added tip: never eat your shit.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I’m not supposed to eat my shit? But I’m always so hungry 😦

      I can’t say that I meditate and am 0% religious/spiritual but this sounds like a great excuse for us to start a fecal focused religion. Shit as the sacrament and whatnot. I’ll trick people into tithing for the opportunity to gobble their own feces. In five years I’ll be a god damned prophet!

      Liked by 1 person

  6. Who doesn’t shit themselves driving through that part of the country? Anyway I’m laughing now sans shots of vodka so thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Dude, there is never enough potty filth in the world. I LIVE in the Midwest – granted it’s Chicago, but that’s just where the shit all flushes out. Ever drink Malort?

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Haha I grew up in ND and lived in Minneapolis so I guess we’re the ones flushing shit your way. I’d never heard of Malort but just looked it up. Yum. The next time I’m in Chicago I’m gonna guzzle some in an alley. Have you had good experiences with it?

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Only in the sense that it’s fun to watch 21 year old boys try it for the first time, when they see my friends buy me a shot of it as a joke, watch me slam it, and they think “well, if this tiny blonde chick can do it…” then they puke on their shoes because it tastes like ear wax, cat litter, and your little brother’s dirty gym socks. Dilettantes. 🙄

        Liked by 1 person

      4. I have the perfect alley for you, then. Do you like really old, tired crack whores of questionable gender with dubious hygiene? I could probably scare a couple of those up for you when you’re in town! I’ll black out a tooth and skip my meds, it’ll be a party.

        Liked by 1 person

      5. Why yes I do! Just know that if the crack whore turns on us I’m pushing you down as a sacrifice then jetting.

        The last time I was in Chicago I went to a show in Bucktown of some Doug Stanhope satellite comedians. I was living out of my car so put a bottle of wine inside the leg of some sweatpants then guzzled it beside a park. I found a pizza atop a trash can in an alley and as I ate it a giant rat crawled by.

        The next day I walked around and when I went to piss in a porta potty behind the train tracks I found it to ‘ve full of needles. All of this is to say that it sounds like we’ll be 1:1 recreating my last time there.

        Liked by 1 person

      6. Crack whores here worship me as their goddess. You may have to sacrifice a toe. It’s fine, you can always get a Lee Press-on toe at Walgreens.

        I’ve never seen Stanhope (or his brethren) live, but I’d probably rob a crack whore for the opportunity.

        Our pizza here is delicious, even the discarded, rat nibbled ones; although I’d never recommend being homeless here during one of our winters. Lower Wacker isn’t as welcoming as it used to be.

        So yeah, sounds like a great time! I’ll bring the sterno.

        Liked by 1 person

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