The Classic Story of the Day i Pooped My Pants (for my new readers)

Ok, so I was telling someone this story last night (no idea why I humiliate myself like this). I mean do grown men really poop their pants and then blog about it?

Sit down and relax, because this is the story of how I shit my pants on a date and successfully cut my underwear off while walking down Broadway in New York City.

Away we go. Let me transport you too a chilly winter night in the early winter. Must have been about 1998. I am living in Connecticut and decide to take a girl I was dating into the city for a night on the town. We enjoy a nice dinner at Gramercy Tavern (strange how many details I remember from this night). We are walking to a play (Rent..UGH) and I innocently try to slip a fart past a turd. Well, I failed miserably and propelled a liquidy stream down my right leg. (too much detail?) Thank the good lord for my 3/4 length suede jacket, which mostly hides the damage. While it isn't too obvious to others, I still have issues to deal with.

Great, now what? Not very romantic. As panic start to step in, I coolly collect myself and begin to formulate a plan. I will use my Swiss Army Knife to cut my underwear off! BRILLIANT! But wait, the keys jingling are going to give me away. So before I set about this operation, I remove the knife from the key chain. I open it up, slide my hand down the side of Gap Khakis.

Over the course of several blocks and 15 minutes, all while maintaining a conversation on how great the meal was, how awesome Savage Garden and BackStreet Boys are (hey its 1998) I proceed to cut my ALL-TIME FAVORITE BOXERS off. And no..despite discussing Backstreet and going to see Rent...I am not gay.

So anyhow, I am making progress. It takes another block while I shake, wiggle and shimmy until I smoothly expel the soiled underpants out my pants let and onto the sidewalk in front of a Chinese takeout restaurant (great marketing tool)! I look back longingly at my trusty (and slightly dirty) friends, and briefly wonder if I should fess up just so I can rescue them from the feet that will surely trample them (Honey, did you step in dog poo?).

Begrudgingly I forge ahead, all the while wondering if I will ever be able to replace them. Never once did my date figure it out. Believe it or not, I went on to marry this woman. In hindsight (poor word choice), I shoulda just told her I taken a dump on the sidewalk...would have saved me alot of money and trouble, since we were divorced after a coupla years.

Embarassing Crohn's and Work Story - Unbelievable

So this morning I get to work about an hour early as normal. I fold up the sports section of the Orlando Sentinel and put it my back pocket. I then begin my casual stroll to the bathroom. "Nothing to see here folks, not going poop..just minding my own business..."

So I read about all of the NFL news, wash my hands, check my face out in the mirror for any leftover toothpaste or zit cream, and walk back into the office. I stroll through the hall of our accouting department and give a half-hearted, monday morning hello to the ladies. I see our COO walking down the hall and she is looking at me funny.

From about 20 ft away, I see this look...then she asks me what is that....At this point I notice that I have toilet paper (from lining the seat) stuck in my pants. And n0t 5 sheets. I double it up on the seat, so I had a good 15-20 sheets trailing down my pant leg like a tail. It was so long that about 2 sheets are touching the floor!!!

She starts cracking up and says, "OH, this is going to be a good one Scott." As I snatched it out of my pants, I calmly replied that I was throwing myself a ticker-tape parade to start the beginning of the week!

Wow, what a Monday. I love Crohn's disease and poop stories. Unfortunately this one is VERY true!