Diarrhea in a freighter?

[Vsf]

Remember to flush twice and build a toilet paper "boat" for your pooh (keeps it from sticking to the sides of the lav pot).

Skyward80

====================

Now THAT is good advice. Should be on the ATP Practical Test Standards.

"Now that you've shot a raw data ILS, you will be tested in your colon evacuation technique, and paper turd boat followup actions, as per AIM 22008.3..."

I think I'm qualified to teach that course. The Brown Badge of Courage...

(Sorry about the italics, I can't turn them off.)

 

[rjacobs]

Didnt happen to me, but I was there for the incident. Flying back to our college in Missouri from eating at Lamberts Cafe near SGF(all you can eat homestyle/southern/fried cooking, throwed rolls, gallons of sweat tea) there are about 10 airplanes. Where all chatting on 12345 and we start hearing planes peel off for "reliever" airports. Well the guy in the lead plane asks another guy if he had his key to the FBO at the airport. Nope, came the reply. god damn it, I dont think Im gonna make it was the next thing that came across the radio. I was in the second plane. Well the guy in the first plane was really hurtin I guess, but managed to make it all the way to home. We were on short final when I see him running across the runway to get to the gas station/strip club that was about 500 feet from the approach end. We almost had to go around we were laughing so hard. He made it, but just barely he said.

 

[V-STALL]

Found on Craigslist-

best of craigslist > seattle-tacoma > 9.6 Originally Posted: Sat, 11 Aug 10:40 PDT

9.6

Date: 2007-08-11, 10:40AM PDT


Okay, so you know that feeling that you get maybe an hour or hour and a half after eating that gives you a first faint inkling, a small surge of fear that maybe the food was bad? It's followed by cramping, then watery tidal sounds from below the equator. Then by recalling everything you ate - fish, fries, lemon, malt vinegar...TARTER SAUCE! ********************! I bet the tarter sauce was bad! Oh hell, I'm going to blow from every orifice any minute!

Now, I am not one my first lap in the pool of life, so of course, I immediately implemented Emergency Response Plan ********************storm:
1. Immediately make any plausible excuse to step away from the client.
2. Ask the lovely new coworker you're secretly crushing on to take over with the client (double benefit - she is glad to have the opportunity, and she will be nowhere near the desk the newest person has been given right next to the bathroom).
3. Now feeling the second wave of cramps; sweat and beginning to taste a little metallic in the increasing saliva that is rising in your mouth, you begin race-walking to the can. Race-walking has two benefits: it is a bit quicker than walking, and it allows you to clamp firmly on your sphincter while you rush to the relief station.
4. Say a quick prayer to the porcelain gods that all stalls will be unoccupied.
5. As you reach the door to the bathroom, begin unclasping belt and buttons.
6. Scan for open stalls while completing step 5.
7. Dash to a stall while lowering trousers to half mast. Shout warning to anyone else present - "Save yourself! Get out NOW!"
8. As you pivot and begin lowering your butt to the toilet seat, flick the stall door shut and the lock with it. Combining these three moves saves time! Precious time...
9. Sit, relax the sphincter and ride out the storm.

Properly implemented, this plan should save you just enough time to get your ass in place, with a good seal to prevent blow back just as the gallant sphincter gives it up.

Unfortunately, because I stood that extra second or two after my instincts told me I had hideous diarrhea on the way - I was arguing with myself that maybe it was just gas - I didn't quite get a good seal before Vesuvius Crapitanus erupted.

The one other person in the room was heard to exclaim, "Holy ********************!" and "Oh my God, man!" This last was heard from the hallway just before the door slammed shut.

Once the eruptions slowed, then stopped, I began secondary response procedures - look to see if there is toilet paper...YES! Did it spray forward onto my pants...NO! Did it...oh ********************! A two foot high, glistening wall of brownish green slime covers the back of the seat, tank, wall and my white shirt. That two seconds of denial had kept me from getting a good seal. I'd have to improvise a new secondary response procedure to clean up. Remove shirt and wipe seat and wall. Clean self as best possible with toilet paper. Soap and water at the sink.

Having cleaned as best I could, I knew I only had minutes to get to my apartment before the nausea hit. Calmly as possible, I exited the bathroom, hoping to sneak shirtless down the back stairs. As I left the bathroom, another guy walked in. A second later, he came back out, gagging "Call 911, someone died in there!" I was on the stairs, then out the door, then in my car.

I made it home, spent the next 36 hours with my porcelain savior, and hoped that the new woman had made a sale. Or at least hadn't heard about the bathroom disaster and the wild-eyed, shirtless coworker seen running from the scene! I'll know tomorrow.

I did everything right, followed the playbook perfectly, but that one hesitation - the one that made me too slow - kept me from getting a good seal. And that little hesitation may just keep me from enchanting my crush, or it may even mean I need to get a new job, depending on the nicknames they've come up with for me. Still, I give myself a 9.6 because I did everything flawlessly except for sticking the landing. The other judge, who is from Romania and is a janitor when he's not judging, might give me a lower score. Damn.

(Aside to Romanian judge: Dude, I did the best I could with just a shirt. I'd have done better with a disinfectant cleaner and a mop. There'll be a bottle of pear brandy in your cart on Monday.)

Moral: "Good instincts usually tell you what to do long before your head has figured it out." Trust your instincts. Oh, and get a good seal.

• Location: Didn't get a good seal
• it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 394614542

 

[Wankel7]

WIN! That was great!

 

[CFIcare]

nearly in tears laughing

So there we were in the Shed at 14,000 or so, happily puffing away on the O2, when I feel a sesmic shift somewhere in my gut. Not painful, but the type of feeling that tells you that the 30 or so feet of neatly coiled intestine is reconfiguring itself into one straight pipe. At first I though, "Only an hour and a half to go, I can make it." About 5 minutes later, more gurgling and shifting shattered that illusion. I handed off the plane to my somewhat bewildered FO and headed for the back. On the way back I grabbed the only recepticles I could find, two plastic bags which contained the deli food responsible for the current problem. By the time I got to the back of the plane, I was not only squeezing my cheeks together as tight as I could manage, I was also starting to have the heaves. With one arm looped through the rear net, I somehow managed to simultainiously vent from both ends into two seperate bags. While most of it was deposited into the bags, a substainial portion landed on the deck. This being the dead of winter, it froze instantly. I used the few kleenex and the weather from our flight plan to clean up and headed back towards the front. I nearly make it to the cockpit with another round of gurglings sent me staggering, now lightheaded and fairly hypoxic, towards the back of the plane for another round. I barely managed to untie the bags in time. It was around this time that I learned that bare flesh will stick to a cold soaked, diamond tread deck. To make this a perfect evening, I was out of paper of any sort. Looking around, I found a few rags in the corner and used those. Yet another mistake. Apparently they had been previously used to wipe up jet fuel or some other fluid that would be irritating to sensitive skin. It was a unique sensation I hope never to repeat. At this point I sacrificed my undershirt, and headed back to the front as quickly as I can, because I realized we had been descending for quite some time. I manage to arrive in time to find us 10 miles from the airport, set up for the approach. I managed to make it through the landing, and then proceeded to destroy the bathroom at the FBO while my FO loaded the freight. To his eternal credit, he did think to get some hot water and a mop to remove the offending leftovers from the plane. After all this, we still managed to get the freight in roughly on time.

The moral of the story is; beware of the deli at the Belleville Meijer. Pain and humiliation have thier origins there.

Good lord. I don't know what feels better, a mongo power dump or having laughed yourself sore. Dang that's funny stuff. I love this thread. VIVA LA DIARREAH IN A FREIGHTER!!!!

 

[goodgig]

Just to add some visuals for this thread....
http://s20.photobucket.com/albums/b242/bigbuh/?action=view&current=NeverTrustaFart.flv

 

[b707guy]

I guess "Depends" still has a few bugs to work out in their bikini bottom line.

We'd still hire her, though.:laugh:

 

[Swass]

Just re-reading this from front to back

Flying a Cessna 402 single pilot night cargo was the best when I had the squirts. After the first episode of nearly crapping in my pants, i always kept 1 pair of "Depends" in my flight bag. Anytime I felt the Lincoln Log making its way, I quickly slipped them on and just crapped in my pants like a 2 year old. I would clean up after myself and toss the used "Depends" out the vent window and proceed on like nothing happened.

It really made it nice since I could eat anything I wanted for dinner and not have to worry about anything. "Depends" are also great to pee in. They also work well if you have to take a dump on the cargo ramp at night. You can use it to wipe your rear...........nice and soft.

I think it would make a great TV commercial

There are more memorable quotes in this thread than all of the other posts combined on this site.

 

[Amish RakeFight]

Just to add some visuals for this thread....
http://s20.photobucket.com/albums/b242/bigbuh/?action=view&current=NeverTrustaFart.flv

That was too much! :laugh:

 

[Ray Finkle]

Just to add some visuals for this thread....
http://s20.photobucket.com/albums/b242/bigbuh/?action=view&current=NeverTrustaFart.flv

thats just nasty! uke: :laugh: