MUScoop
MUScoop => The Superbar => Topic started by: ATWizJr on August 21, 2014, 10:32:15 AM
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A sign of good health?
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A sign of good health?
Tom, I can't weigh in on that question personally but it was discussed in a recent Panel on the BBC
http://www.youtube.com/v/eB5VXJXxnNU?version=3&hl=en_US&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"
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Jump shot?
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Nah, you don't want to see any of these in the lane.
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Tom, I can't weigh in on that question personally but it was discussed in a recent Panel on the BBC
http://www.youtube.com/v/eB5VXJXxnNU?version=3&hl=en_US&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"
Thanks Crash. I'm expecting agita this season, so with seven weeks to go before madness I thought it might be the appropriate time to discuss GI health.
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I thought floaters were specks that drifted around in an eyeball
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I thought floaters were specks that drifted around in an eyeball
You mean this?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uOcvmTLTtNE
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A sign of good health?
Generally just means fat in your diet in the previous 12-24 hours.
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Breast implants with more air in 'em than silicone.
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Also, saw several turds, aka floaters, in the local swimmin' pool while life guardin' back in the day.
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Also, saw several turds, aka floaters, in the local swimmin' pool while life guardin' back in the day.
Did you work with Carl Spackler?
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its color you should worry about: http://www.webmd.com/women/features/digestive-problems (http://www.webmd.com/women/features/digestive-problems)
And don't forget about loggers. Folks been loggin 'round these parts for generations. My pappy taught me loggin. And his pappy before him! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nzCV475ADaQ
<iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/watch?v=nzCV475ADaQfeature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
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http://www.youtube.com/v/gT_9OUvmb5I?hl=en_US&version=3&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"
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First Date Floater
http://www.youtube.com/v/8nvnb81fqiA?hl=en_US&version=3&rel=0"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"
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Also, saw several turds, aka floaters, in the local swimmin' pool while life guardin' back in the day.
Not Jackson Park, I hope!
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I thought floaters were specks that drifted around in an eyeball
Those are vitreous floaters. They are awful.
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I once had white turds. Those albino suckers scared the heck out of me. After sobering up, I realized that I ate an entire container of French onion dip while drinking.
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I once had white turds. Those albino suckers scared the heck out of me. After sobering up, I realized that I ate an entire container of French onion dip while drinking.
At the end of a Red Flag Exercise at Nellis AFB three A 10 squadrons tore up Las Vegas as only Warthog Drivers can. The next morning I downed a handful of Motrin with three quarts of Gatorade Arctic Ice in a vain effort at clearing my brain in order to feel somewhat human.
We stopped at the Base Shopette to fill up the rental car when a sudden, violent urge to relieve myself struck with a fury that would have Shocked and Awed Saddam himself. I raced to the gent's and barely got my flight suit down when my backside erupted like Mt Vesuvius.
Unfortunately, because I was struggling to get the Zoom Bag down, I was still in a hover position and my aim point was way off target. I knew immediately that my ordnance had likely caused significant catastrophic collateral damage in the Shopette's tiny unisex latrine. As I turned to conduct Battle Damage Assessment I was horrified not by the incredible amount of viscous goo running down the wall but the fact that it was a bright florescent green.
My mind raced with deconfliction scenarios which all concluded that I had contracted some bizarre cancer that had putrified my GI tract and that my days were now very limited. How else could one explain the unnatural neon green color of my discharge? Facing certain death I trudged grimly out of the latrine when I saw a young Airman in line cradling an armload of Gatorade Arctic Blasts. I knew instantly that it was the three quarts of electric blue Gatorade that had tainted my insides and turned my release into a Jackson Pollack masterpiece.
Because the last night of Red Flag always promises hard raging I had taken myself off the flight schedule for the return trip and slept like a baby on the C 17 ride back to home plate. I awoke refreshed and feeling like a man given a new lease on life. My wife met me at the ramp and when she asked how the day had gone I wisely left out the story of the florescent green bombing run. Like most women, she never really appreciated a genuinely hilarious sh1t story.
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At the end of a Red Flag Exercise at Nellis AFB three A 10 squadrons tore up Las Vegas as only Warthog Drivers can. The next morning I downed a handful of Motrin with three quarts of Gatorade Arctic Ice in a vain effort at clearing my brain in order to feel somewhat human.
We stopped at the Base Shopette to fill up the rental car when a sudden, violent urge to relieve myself struck with a fury that would have Shocked and Awed Saddam himself. I raced to the gent's and barely got my flight suit down when my backside erupted like Mt Vesuvius.
Unfortunately, because I was struggling to get the Zoom Bag down, I was still in a hover position and my aim point was way off target. I knew immediately that my ordnance had likely caused significant catastrophic collateral damage in the Shopette's tiny unisex latrine. As I turned to conduct Battle Damage Assessment I was horrified not by the incredible amount of viscous goo running down the wall but the fact that it was a bright florescent green.
My mind raced with deconfliction scenarios which all concluded that I had contracted some bizarre cancer that had putrified my GI tract and that my days were now very limited. How else could one explain the unnatural neon green color of my discharge? Facing certain death I trudged grimly out of the latrine when I saw a young Airman in line cradling an armload of Gatorade Arctic Blasts. I knew instantly that it was the three quarts of electric blue Gatorade that had tainted my insides and turned my release into a Jackson Pollack masterpiece.
Because the last night of Red Flag always promises hard raging I had taken myself off the flight schedule for the return trip and slept like a baby on the C 17 ride back to home plate. I awoke refreshed and feeling like a man given a new lease on life. My wife met me at the ramp and when she asked how the day had gone I wisely left out the story of the florescent green bombing run. Like most women, she never really appreciated a genuinely hilarious sh1t story.
Hilarious!
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Hilarious!
I thought so too, Tom. Men relish a great sh1t story and savor every lurid detail. Women, for some odd reason, never really embrace the beauty of these adventures.
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I thought so too, Tom. Men relish a great sh1t story and savor every lurid detail. Women, for some odd reason, never really embrace the beauty of these adventures.
As an old friend used to tell me, "A fcuk is a fcuk, but there's nothing like a good healthy sh1t."
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As an old friend used to tell me, "A fcuk is a fcuk, but there's nothing like a good healthy sh1t."
Your friend is worth keeping. But there's more to that adage. For while a man can take immense satisfaction in a good, healthy sh1t he would also derive incredible pleasure from an enormously unhealthy bowel movement.
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Hilarious!
funny as balls. you should be a writer, but you left out one very important detail...floater? betcha it wasn't a 2-wiper :o
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Hey Dunks, you gotta chime in on this thread.
Paperwork baby, paperwork.
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a buddy of mine crapped his drawers on the way to On the Border while trying to get in the gas station crapper (the station was closed and they opened up the doors for him). he left his sh!t filled boxers in the john and went to see some strippers commando.
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Were you wearin' Jockey's or Hanes?
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a buddy of mine crapped his drawers on the way to On the Border while trying to get in the gas station crapper (the station was closed and they opened up the doors for him). he left his sh!t filled boxers in the john and went to see some strippers commando.
Did he clean up in the sink? No matter how many times you do it, it's always a bit awkward when you're cleaning your bung in a public bathroom and some other dude(s) walk in. "Hey man, I'm not a weirdo. I just shat my pants on accident."
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Did he clean up in the sink? No matter how many times you do it, it's always a bit awkward when you're cleaning your bung in a public bathroom and some other dude(s) walk in. "Hey man, I'm not a weirdo. I just shat my pants on accident."
Any man who has spent time in the Developing World, partaken of heavily spiced food, or spent an evening consuming copious amounts of alcohol has met met Captain Kangaroo's friend Mr. Brown Jeans. The Holy Trinity is combining all three.
Whether it is wolfing down Padang food with Bintangs in Surabaya, scarfing down Vindaloo with Stud Beer in Chennai, or choking down enpalmes with piss warm Sols in Nuevo Leon any of these situations place the diner on the fast track to meeting one if not all three of the Reah sisters.
http://solvingtheibspuzzle.com/alcohol-and-diarrhea.html