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...This may not be a good idea.
I mean we've made jokes about Trevor's skid marks, what's the worst that could happen?
...Geeze. I don't want to go first just to have the thread fail and this is just me confessing something gross.
This could be really funny or morbidly embarrassing.

I guess I'll start small. This is old news but for a while, like a month ago, I had a lump under my armpit.
I immediately got worried since the first thing I thought of was "Tumor". I know that's not likely but it was a bit of a scare anyway.

I went to the doctor to have it examined, thankfully it was just MRSA. I had it lanced and it was the most horrific thing I've seen happen to my own body. I could feel blood, pus, and some fluid the doctor used dripping down my pit. Even after the fact it wasn't gone.

Getting a flu shot is s**tty but when you've got someone sticking you with a needle and moving it around for, like, ten minutes it's not a fun time. It's gone, thankfully.

Anyway, if this thread stays alive I'll post more stuff. I kinda like being able to talk about things most people don't want to hear. If you also like doing that you could try the Candid app. It's totally anonymous. But I like confiding in people I know.

I remember I once had a greatly swelled blood vessel in my crotch just barely above my dingle.  I would be in pain every time I moved my lower body.  So I stabbed it with a pin and drained out as much blood as I could.  It went back down to normal and I didn't have any more pain.  Saved myself a doctor trip.  That was fairly icky.

I had this weird lump come up on my back. Started out like a pimple, but it was in just the perfect spot that I could not reach it. I kinda ignored it.

One day, someone asked me if I had something on under my shirt. Not that I knew of. I went home and looked and the thing was bigger around than a half dollar coin and stood out over an inch. I started calling it my flesh monkey.

I had a doctor's appointment scheduled, so I figured I would just wait and have the doctor look at it. It didn't hurt, so, meh, I didn't do anything about it. Finally, the day of the appointment arrived. I mentioned it to my doctor, and she said "Let's have a look."

She was shocked it wasn't causing me pain. When she lanced it and squeezed, it was packed with this weird and very thin skin-like substance that came out almost like a knotted up ribbon. Since the thing had grown so large, she had to pack the thing with sterile cotton or something to keep it from filling up with fluids and becoming infected.

It took a while, but the skin tightened back up. She removed the stuff she packed in there, and it finally healed up nicely.

That is the story of my flesh monkey.

Next time: The story of my bowel disorder. AND I HAVE PICTURES!!!!!!!!  Just kidding. No story and no pictures.

I had an ingrown hair in a most awkward place one time.  It had curled up on itself just under my skin until it looked like a small black washer, about 1/8" across, just visible under the surface.  Because of the sensitive location, I held off doing something about it, but finally I managed to dig through the skin enough to grab it with the tweezers and it slowly uncurled as it pulled out - it was nearly 2" long!!!!    :buggedout: :buggedout: :buggedout:

What's the worst that could happen? This: I could make more skid marks  :wink:

I had maxilla-facial surgery in 2006, mostly to do with my teeth and it was a three hour operation: thankfully my folks were there with me.

The result was that because of that op, I bled so badly and so profusely that I had to be given blood (instead of donating it as I usually do) and the sheets and pillowcase on my bed in the hospital needed to be changed.  :buggedout:

I also had to cover my pillow and I bled through the towels: I only stopped drooling blood three days later!  :buggedout:

When I was a teen, I had bad acne: so bad in fact, that my skin doc called it "cystic acne" as I had things that resembled boils on my face and the scars remain.  :buggedout:*

The doc decided to get rid of the worst of them, handed me a water cooler cup and told me to hold it under my chin. One triple needle injection later, the small cup was almost full of dark pus and blood. Gross  :tongueout: :twirl:  :drink: :drink: :drink: :drink:

*This is why I don't have pics of myself as a teen.

Just as I suspected, all men have cooties.

Okay. So I'm going to get a little deeper in the TMI pool since I've seen good responses so far.

I found out I have prostatitis. Basically my prostate becomes inflamed in the worst possible spot.
Basically due to the inflammation I always felt like I needed to pee even after I did.
This didn't bother me, I just kind of assumed the rest will come out later so I just go about my day.
But that isn't the TMI part.
The inflammation is at this kind of crossroads in my body that leads to the urethra.
One tube goes from the urethra to the bladder to expel waste...

...The other tube went to my balls.

Now here's the issue. My prostatitis come from me sitting on my ass all day. The urologist
told me to go out at get exercise, which I never do in the winter. I'm already going through
seasonal depression because I can't go on walks like I usually do, so I'm stuck waiting for spring.

Like I said the sensation like I wasn't finished urinating didn't bother me. Here's the part that REALLY sucks.
Unless I get rid of EVERY LAST DROP of p**s then any orgasm I have will be instantly ruined.
So let me put it like this for all of the men out there. How would you feel if you knew that until spring comes you're going to get blue-balled by your own body.
...Yup.

This is nowhere near my worst TMI thing though. But I think I'll spare your sanity and my dignity by not going into the really bad stuff.
...Unless someone goes somewhere that deep before I do. Then I may just share.  :wink:

...Welp. Looks like that was nasty enough to kill it.

I think I've said this before but I had a very gross experience in high school in 1984: every day at Chaplin High, Gweru, Zimbabwe, a pushcart driver would come at break time and sell warm Chelsea buns and cold Cokes to the students: delicious and refreshing.

After about a week of this, my friend Aaron pulled me off to one side and told me that I shouldn't buy from this guy at all. I asked why and he told me to go stand behind the driver to see what he did before he sold the buns to the kids.

I stood behind the guy and noticed that he had some very large pimples on his neck which he would regularly squeeze the pus out of and covertly wipe his fingers on the bun before he handed it over.  :buggedout: :buggedout:

That was in 1984, I haven't eaten a Chelsea bun since. Wonder why?  :buggedout: :buggedout:

Sometimes I pass out, or almost pass out, when I have really big poops or diarrhea.  When it's really bad, I have had to faintly call for my husband to fetch me water and watch me to make sure I don't fall over and crack my head open.  I think I might really die on the toilet one day.

Our downstairs toilet doesn't really flush like it should.  It will pull "sinkers" on through the pipe, albeit slowly, but "floaters" just sit and swim around until the disintegrate or until I break them up with a plunger.  I referred to these Malodorous Floating Objects as "Bismarcks," but my wife informed me in no uncertain terms that she found that disgusting.

So now I call them "Molly Browns."

Unsinkable, right?

Well, other than pulling out multiple ingrown toe nails, I popped a cyst that was on my cheek. It didn't hurt, however it was runny and not clumped up like regular cysts.
I used to have an anal fissure, which made sitting down or having a bowel movement painful.

All right, all right, my turn.

A boy once peed in my mouth.

Of course he was a couple days old, he was my son, and having only had a girl before him I was naively unprepared for the range boys could pull off with their cannons. I was looking sideways while diapering him, talking to my husband, and mostly the stream hit my cheek but some did splash in my mouth, so I have an idea what urine tastes like. (About like it smells but warm and vaguely sweet.)

After it happened I went over to my husband (who found it beyond hilarious) and said, "Give me a kiss."

And here is the expected question: "Did he?"  That would be a whole different level of TMI.

Well, there used to be time that I worked at a convenience store on the edge of Tahlequah, OK. I lived downtown in a boardinghouse I still call "Psycho House" (I have multiple stories about THAT place that are weird, but don't belong here.)

Anyway, I didn't have a vehicle so I had to walk about two or three miles to work. I was usually the lucky stiff who got to work the opening shift on Sundays, so I'd be up and on my way usually a little before 5 in the morning. One early, early morning, I was walking along with everything fine when, out of the blue, I heard a growl. It was my intestines. No pain, just this really nasty growl.

Fine. I kept walking.

A few minutes later, another growl followed by what felt like a couple of liters of gas ballooning in my guts along with the pain that bloating brings.

I picked up my pace, but didn't feel too concerned.

Another few minutes pass, and I doubled over with this intense cramping in my intestines. Okay, so I realized I really needed to hurry. There was a 24-hour gas station on my path to work that I could stop at and take care of things. Just a couple more blocks.

Before I got past one block, it hit me again, and I pretty much had to hold my entire body rigid, muscles clenched everywhere to keep things under control. The spasm passed. I tried to run without putting too much strain on my already unhappy body.

There it was. The gas station. Just up the street. I was never so happy to see a place in my entire life. I kept trotting towards its beckoning light.

The pain hit again, bad enough that it stopped me in my tracks for fear of stumbling and falling. I tightened every muscle I could. Sweat broke out all over my body. The pain increased. I start begging for it to stop. The pain turned up a notch. I started crying and mumbling, "No, no, no, please, no. Please stop!" Finally, it felt like someone punched me in the stomach, and I practically screamed right there in the middle of a residential street, in the darkness, at 5:30 or so in the morning.

The remaining walk to the gas station was slow as I was trying oh so hard to keep the massive mess from spreading. I got in, threw the underwear away (even Trevor would have been horrified), cleaned up, and then had to call a cab to take me back to Psycho House so I could change clothes, then have them drive me to work.

The most painful and humiliating trip to work I have EVER had.

This is all very disgusting...so I guess this  story of woe will fit.
I have bad hemmroids. Back when I drank every day,they would bleed-and I mean bleed ALOT-enuff so that when I woke up at times I was covered waste down in blood. That's gross-but here's where it gets really f**ked up. I was drinking with this scary woman named Theresa,and we decided to do the hibbity jibbity. So while we were on the couch doin' it,my 'roids decided to pour blood-thing is-we didn't notice it untill we we're done. Both are legs and-extremities were soaked in ass blood. Needless to say-I never saw her again!   :buggedout:

Okay, dumb question, but have you ever, I dunno.. talked to a medical professional about that?  Cause that doesn't sound normal.   :buggedout:

Actually-I think thats a really good question-that aint normal.

Saturday January 28, 2017 Well....I can now say I have cleaned human brain and blood and teeth and bone fragments off a wall, and ripped up a strip of carpet saturated in blood and urine and what may have been feces, even sanded blood off a hardwood floor under the carpet, scraped tissues off plaster. Painted over where blood had been. Plastered shotgun pellet holes in a wall. Aired out a room where someone died violently. The longer we'd look the more we'd find to clean up. Even splatters on the white ceiling, none of it red until it got wet again, all this deep cinnamon brown and it smelled awful. Even gore inside an electric socket he sat in front of, which L. took off and we wiped out and scraped out with a flathead screwdriver. Somehow it did not feel right sending someone else to do all that, so L. and I went, and will never tell the children, who assumed we were getting a place ready, which...we were, the other man is not moving back, we gave him the deposit back and let him off the lease. L. said him doing that there will probably cost us at least twenty-percent on re-sale value now, because you have to disclose suicide or murder when you sell a house. It smelled like decay and metal. Less gross than tragically sad. We sat by the river for a while when we got done and promised each other we'd never do that. Stupid R. begged me to send him pictures. Don't think I want to talk to him for a while.

I need to locate the toenail trimmers. 

Oh my GOD!!! You're supposed to trim those?!?! No wonder I wear out socks and shoes so damned fast.

I used to have a BIG problem with biting my nails, but I finally broke myself of that habit.  What was amazing was how EASY it was in retrospect.  I just started wearing shoes.

Yeah, and don't let em go until you need one of these to get them loose...

(http://ks4002769.ip-198-100-149.net/steribud/media/wysiwyg/hoof-trimmer.jpg)

Ha!  Yes.  It's called vasovagal syncope where seemingly random things trigger a person to pass out, and having low blood pressure doesn't help.  I had extensive tests done years ago, including a spinal tap, after I nearly passed out in a meeting at work.  I also went to the ER last year when I couldn't recover from a bout of a stomach bug and kept falling on the bathroom floor.  Stress can make it worse.  It also happens if I get a cut on any of my fingers - not the sight of blood, just a cut on a finger.   

http://youtu.be/T06bEXYCWu0 (http://youtu.be/T06bEXYCWu0)

This morning I woke up to a growl from my bowel.
No problem, I often have to take the Browns to the Superbowl first thing in the morning, but as I was putting on my socks my guts gave a startling lurch.  I looked down and saw my intestines MOVING, man, like an alien was about to pop out of my stomach!
I asked my wife "Are you done in the bathroom?"
She said "Just finished!"
I said "GOOD!" and lunged for the toilet.
It felt like someone was jerking my innards out with a logging chain.  Seriously, the first round was expelled with such force that if I was standing up, it might have landed on the other side of the road in our neighbor's yard!  The worst diarrhea I have had in ages. :hot:
I was groaning so loudly my wife asked if I was OK.
"I'm giving birth to a jumbo bowl of cream of s*** soup!" I returned. :bluesad:
I got up after ten minutes, and ten minutes later had to go again.
It was so bad that I actually took a spare pair of pants and undies to work, just in case.
It hit me twice more - once around 7:30 and again at 10: 45.  Finally there was just nothing left in there to come out.
But I did live the day by the Third Rule of Jack Nicholson from THE BUCKET LIST:


"Never trust a fart!"   :buggedout: :buggedout: :buggedout: :buggedout:

 :question: :question:

That's odd: I thought it was the Patriots vs Falcons at this year's Superbowl?  :wink: :wink:

I got no pants on :wink:

Sometimes when I'm in the bathroom, I could SWEAR my poop smells like garlic, even though I haven't eaten any garlic recently. 

Maybe it's just my nose playing tricks on me.

Hey-at least you ain't gotta worry about vampires attacking you when yer takin' a dump!  :thumbup:

I have colitis. One day at work (I think it was before I knew I had colitis) I shat a spray of blood into my pants. It started with a quickly developing, intense stomach ache. I stood up and started to walk to the men's room (I thought I was about to have diarrhea). I took about 2 steps away from my desk and suddenly everything let go and my pants were full of blood. It seeped right through my jeans. I went home immediately (sitting on a towel so my car seat wouldn't get stained).

Holy crap, that must have been terrifying!  :buggedout:

Dunno how we got on the subject, but I was talking to a fellow I knew once and he mentioned that pregnancy had made his wife "very, very horny" and yet, he was often reluctant to reciprocate those feelings because the whole situation "freaked him out."  

I can't help but think, "Wow, what a waste."  I mean, I don't know, I've seen pics of pregnant women and I find a lot of them rather attractive myself.  I can sorta understand the fear of hurting the baby (especially in later months), but seriously guys, trust me, none of us are THAT well endowed.  I don't know the specific dimensions, but I do know the entrance to the womb is, "way up there" compared to the vagina.  

Another part of it of is this: if your spouse is just suddenly in the mood a lot, you need to enjoy that situation as much as possible, because I'm pretty sure when the baby arrives it's gonna put a bit of a cramp on your sex lives for awhile.  

Have you ever been married? Did you f**k your preggie wife? I did-I didnt really get into it. Kinda gross for me.It was kinda "Yuk". I didnt like the idea of stickin my dick in my future kids face. And no-having a child doesnt f**k yer yer sex life. Ifthat was so-I had 2 kids one after the other. Nope. Yer still horny. Thats why I have 2 kids. Yer thinking as a person who never had kids. Try it-its OK! Its very hard- very hard-but its the best thing I ever did. My sons are my world. They are in theyre 20's now-and they love me-I always have somebody in my old age. I love them.

Sex-sex is not all that its bragged up to. Sex is nice. But it's not the "be all". Sex-is over rated. It's like getting high. Sex is fun-it makes you feel good. But It should have NO bearing on how you want your life to go. Sex is just blowing a nut. Has NOTHING to do with love. I blew a nut and had 2 kids. I never loved theyre mother. I loved Tara. I love Tiana.

I'm currently perusing this site in my birthday suit.

You're welcome.

I have a friend who is convinced sex is the main thing that bonds my husband and me. I tell her she's wrong, we have lots of things in common like our children and, and, uh.....um, well, other stuff, but she remains of that opinion.

As for me I kind of envy her for being the most unmarried married person I know, happily dwelling in this strangely pleasant-seeming union of two people who like each other just fine, share a house, a child, income, yet live the largely separate lives of roommates. I could never get away with that, though she makes it appear easy.

But anyway, she thinks my married life is an exact contradiction of what RC wrote, and I still say she's way off.

Been all constipated & puffy all week.  :bluesad:
http://youtu.be/CDG4oWovhKc (http://youtu.be/CDG4oWovhKc)

Used to work this chaff, which is basically tiny bits of fibre glass coated in aluminium designed to mess with radar. When ever we were working directly with it, we'd to put these full body paper suits, protective baggies on our feet, plastic gloves and wear breathing masks and goggles which used to get incredibly hot to wear, but I digress. Despite these precautions sometimes you could still get a bit of chaff stuck in you which could quickly cause an infection. One day at work I got a lump on the back of my neck. In a couple of hours it had swollen up to about half a golf ball. While touching it I managed to burst it and a stream of thing orange puss squirted out everywhere. Since it had burst I decided might as well clean it out there and then rather than going to the medics. It took three or four squeezes to get most of it out, and each time was another jet of orange puss, but eventually got rid of it. To this day I still have a small lump on my neck where it happened.

Not sure if that one is the worst I got while I worked with chaff or the time a piece got in the side my finger and it had to be cut open and scraped out with a scalpel.

I don't usually make a habit of looking at my bowel movements, but sometimes I can't help it.  And I'm not talking irresistible impulse here or something, no, I mean when I literally can't help it.  Like when I'm in one of those stupid ass "motion detector" toilets that has NO manual flush (and who the f**k thought that was a good idea?), and the detector doesn't seem to work so I gotta wave my hands in front of it like an idiot to get my stuff to go down because I'd feel guilty just walking away from the whole damn mess without trying something.

Anyway, I've noticed that sometimes my poop is really long and stringy-looking, like a nest of earthworms... which is weird because when I was younger I could have sworn it was well... bigger.  It honestly makes me wonder if something is semi blocking my intestines or anal cavity and only allowing a little bit to scrape through at a time.  Kind of like if you covered up two-thirds of the hole in the tube of toothpaste and tried to squeeze it that way. (Yeah, I know, great mental imagery, huh?)  
I know, I know, I try not be a hypochondriac, but there all these nagging unanswered questions I've got about my body that bug me, you know? What's normal, what's not.. etc.

This might be helpful in determining why your poo looks like tapeworms instead of logs, AND it provides a potential solution. However, I don't recommend carrying a Squatty Potty in public as they are kind of cumbersome.

(http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-thHE4XMFhCE/VHTL_HCn3-I/AAAAAAAACM8/XvqFNoBExp4/s1600/SquattyPotty.jpg)

Just grossed myself out by re-reading this.  :buggedout: