REMINDER: THE ARENA PLATFORM, INC. has no obligation to monitor the Forums. However, THE ARENA PLATFORM, INC. reserves the right to review any materials submitted to or posted on the Forums, and remove, delete, redact or otherwise modify such materials, in its sole discretion and for any reason whatsoever, at any time and from time to time, without notice or further obligation to you. THE ARENA PLATFORM, INC. has no obligation to display or post any materials provided by you. THE ARENA PLATFORM, INC. reserves the right to disclose, at any time and from time to time, any information or materials that we deem necessary or appropriate to satisfy any applicable law, regulation, contract obligation, legal or dispute process or government request. Click on the following hyperlinks to further read the applicable Privacy Policy and Terms of Use.
Location induced pooping...
- Thread starter Duffy LaCoronilla
- Start date
Alcohol does that. Maybe you need some opiate induced constipation to find a balance
Sounds like a bad call. Better to let it stay contained in the ass area than to spread it all around.
Same. Why didn't you just belly a wave in and rip the suit off before unleashing? Those beaches aren't that crowded.
A friend of mine from South Australia told me they would pull the "aquabog" outside the lineup - take your suit off and crap in the water, then just pull it right back on. Considering their water is in the low 50s, that's crazy enough for me.
I would rather stew in a pile of hot excrement than miss a set wave. You said it yourself. Nowhere to run. nowhere to hide. Just go with the flow. The only person at the end of the day who has to deal with it is me.
What dosent kill you, makes you stronger.
What dosent kill you, makes you stronger.
Have you ever tried to take a Hotline neck entry suit off in the lineup??? Stewing in your turds vs. Death...
Here is another example. My friend Randy G.
This guy lives along the Manree cliffs. An elementary school janitor. He owns this stretch of beach. 100% every day.
Remember one day when Randy was hanging out on the cliffs. Mid summer. All of a sudden, las Barancos lit up. He was on it like a bad rash. After a couple of hours he got out.
In the middle of ButtFvck Egypt. 90 degrees. His wetsuit zipper jammed. He was cooking like a boiled sausage inside his 5/4/3 fullsuit with a built in hood. Had to run down the beach and ask/plead with some chick to help rip his wetsuit off.
This guy lives along the Manree cliffs. An elementary school janitor. He owns this stretch of beach. 100% every day.
Remember one day when Randy was hanging out on the cliffs. Mid summer. All of a sudden, las Barancos lit up. He was on it like a bad rash. After a couple of hours he got out.
In the middle of ButtFvck Egypt. 90 degrees. His wetsuit zipper jammed. He was cooking like a boiled sausage inside his 5/4/3 fullsuit with a built in hood. Had to run down the beach and ask/plead with some chick to help rip his wetsuit off.
Did you not see, earlier, my post about how "the hardest thing in surfing is getting out of a wet 5/4 chest zip when you have diarrhea?" I have quickly scampered through the rock minefield in a Northern California reef/point to assblast the tidepools in between sets. In fact, I've also done it in an open-cell 7 dive suit. Not entirely sure which is worse.
I had to think about this thread for a bit as there are always interesting tales. Somehow women don't feel that same interest. 
Now first off, what is horrifying is when you see your young child drop a duece the size of The Rock's forearm. Like, HOW?! It's half your size. My wife once had to go in with gloves and literally drag one out. I'm still scarred from that. I have no idea how she sleeps at night.
Anyways, to subject thread, it's inopportune times that are the true trigger. Like the time I was in the South Mission Jetty area in SD. Had a board in my car but was just going for regional surf check on way home and primarily to use the shitter. And some chubbier Gaysin mfer waxed my back window. Part of me was offended because if you're going to pull localism, at least take a bunch of paper towels, light them on fire, and throw them over the stall. I went home really quick, grabbed a shorter board and a buddy up for mischief and then we grabbed every wave that came in. Wankers.
Eating way too many cashews, almonds, mac nuts, etc. following PITA hike with the kids, that hit hard coming down from Sentinel Dome in Yosemite. Windy day and trying to squat off-trail, asshole just sealed itself shut in outraged horror at the cold upflow. Naturally park ranger stopped by to talk with my wife right above my futile attempts. Didn't help. Rough walk down remaining mile and pit toilet was glorious. So, thread-related, I did acknowledge/confirm the condition-induced non-pooping desire.
But the most horrifying aspect of this subject was when doing a sewer line survey at military base. Measuring too surface and depths of the lines along with blowing smoke up them to identify leaks to surface. Outside the pure joy of smashing roaches with a sledgehammer (they vaporize when you hit them soild), opening up those manhole covers, it smelled rank and you knew who was eating corn. And survey rid had to got to bottom of sh*t. It's probably not out of the realm of reason that this would make you also have to take a dump but the crazy thing is it would generate a crazy appetite. That just seemed wrong but it does explain why fast food places have the dumpster next to the drive-thru.
Now first off, what is horrifying is when you see your young child drop a duece the size of The Rock's forearm. Like, HOW?! It's half your size. My wife once had to go in with gloves and literally drag one out. I'm still scarred from that. I have no idea how she sleeps at night.
Anyways, to subject thread, it's inopportune times that are the true trigger. Like the time I was in the South Mission Jetty area in SD. Had a board in my car but was just going for regional surf check on way home and primarily to use the shitter. And some chubbier Gaysin mfer waxed my back window. Part of me was offended because if you're going to pull localism, at least take a bunch of paper towels, light them on fire, and throw them over the stall. I went home really quick, grabbed a shorter board and a buddy up for mischief and then we grabbed every wave that came in. Wankers.
Eating way too many cashews, almonds, mac nuts, etc. following PITA hike with the kids, that hit hard coming down from Sentinel Dome in Yosemite. Windy day and trying to squat off-trail, asshole just sealed itself shut in outraged horror at the cold upflow. Naturally park ranger stopped by to talk with my wife right above my futile attempts. Didn't help. Rough walk down remaining mile and pit toilet was glorious. So, thread-related, I did acknowledge/confirm the condition-induced non-pooping desire.
But the most horrifying aspect of this subject was when doing a sewer line survey at military base. Measuring too surface and depths of the lines along with blowing smoke up them to identify leaks to surface. Outside the pure joy of smashing roaches with a sledgehammer (they vaporize when you hit them soild), opening up those manhole covers, it smelled rank and you knew who was eating corn. And survey rid had to got to bottom of sh*t. It's probably not out of the realm of reason that this would make you also have to take a dump but the crazy thing is it would generate a crazy appetite. That just seemed wrong but it does explain why fast food places have the dumpster next to the drive-thru.
I had to think about this thread for a bit as there are always interesting tales. Somehow women don't feel that same interest.
Now first off, what is horrifying is when you see your young child drop a duece the size of The Rock's forearm. Like, HOW?! It's half your size. My wife once had to go in with gloves and literally drag one out. I'm still scarred from that. I have no idea how she sleeps at night.
Anyways, to subject thread, it's inopportune times that are the true trigger. Like the time I was in the South Mission Jetty area in SD. Had a board in my car but was just going for regional surf check on way home and primarily to use the shitter. And some chubbier Gaysin mfer waxed my back window. Part of me was offended because if you're going to pull localism, at least take a bunch of paper towels, light them on fire, and throw them over the stall. I went home really quick, grabbed a shorter board and a buddy up for mischief and then we grabbed every wave that came in. Wankers.
Eating way too many cashews, almonds, mac nuts, etc. following PITA hike with the kids, that hit hard coming down from Sentinel Dome in Yosemite. Windy day and trying to squat off-trail, asshole just sealed itself shut in outraged horror at the cold upflow. Naturally park ranger stopped by to talk with my wife right above my futile attempts. Didn't help. Rough walk down remaining mile and pit toilet was glorious. So, thread-related, I did acknowledge/confirm the condition-induced non-pooping desire.
But the most horrifying aspect of this subject was when doing a sewer line survey at military base. Measuring too surface and depths of the lines along with blowing smoke up them to identify leaks to surface. Outside the pure joy of smashing roaches with a sledgehammer (they vaporize when you hit them soild), opening up those manhole covers, it smelled rank and you knew who was eating corn. And survey rid had to got to bottom of sh*t. It's probably not out of the realm of reason that this would make you also have to take a dump but the crazy thing is it would generate a crazy appetite. That just seemed wrong but it does explain why fast food places have the dumpster next to the drive-thru.
Nuts...They don't digest well. Kind of like eating diamonds, They will catch back up to you.
...empty bottle of Old Grandad slips from his hand and hits the floor as everything goes dark...
Back in the day when we surfed without full suits, it was not uncommon to feel the urge then paddle about 100 yards from the line-up and feed the fish. The floaters were a special problem though, they would sometime follow your wake as you paddled back. Surfing Baja Mailbu it didn't matter if you crapped in the water or not, there were always so many cosmic snot balls floating around.
Back when I worked at Surfer, most of the crew went to Hawaii to cover the December circus. I stayed in San Clemente. One day a box of donuts arrived at the Surfer North Shore house and naturally they were consumed. A day later a photo showed up with said donuts stuffed into butt cheeks along with a line: Seasons Donuts from your friends at Surfing magazine.
That’s the only time I was ever glad I didn’t go to Hawaii.
Kind of freaked out my coworkers yesterday. Working on a forestry job for the city. We were just getting back from break and getting to where we left our equipment. I got to my chainsaw and felt the craziest urge to sh!t out of nowhere the second I put my hands on the handles. I remembered a port-a-poty back by the truck, where I had toilet paper stashed. Mind you this area of forest we are working is just piles of felled trees, branches, half mulched wood, stumps and thorns that you would have to slash through when entering and exiting. I sprinted back, somehow managing to get through it all without breaking an ankle while the guys stopped what they were doing and watched in confusion. I came barreling out of the forest much to the surprise of the guy who was subcontracted out to oversea the operation, got the roll from the truck and barely made it to the toilet.