**** Tom's Oyster Bar
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Registered User
Joined: Oct 2003
Posts: 4,082
From: Chelsea, Mi
**** Tom's Oyster Bar
Warning, this is kinda nastey, but I think poop if funny so...............
To all,
The following email may be quite lengthy, but please read the entire thing. I don't think you will be disappointed. I wanted to tell you about what happened to me Saturday night.....
Saturday night, my wife and I had tickets to the Toby Keith concert. I had bought them for my wife for her birthday. I had sixth row tickets that I paid about $300 for!! I wanted to make a night of it, take her to dinner and then to the concert. Anyway, on our way to the concert we stopped at Tom's Oyster Bar. I ordered calamari for an appetizer and the Tuna special for dinner. After a great dinner, we headed to the concert.
We got there half way through Tracy Lawrence's set. Being in the sixth row, we had to spend quite a bit of time getting to the seats. All of a sudden, I get a searing pain in my stomach. I think....oh no....this can't be.....jesus.....I may have to take a ****! I had heard about seafood poisoning before, but I desperately hoped that this was not the case. I calmly tell my wife that I am going to go get us another drink and I may stop by the bathroom. By the time I make it all the way to the concourse, the searing pain is accompanied with searing pressure on my rectum. My stomach is in knots - blub, blurb, gurgle- the pressure is building. I am walking around the concourse desperately looking for a bathroom when I started to get the cold sweats. "What the ****, is everyone going to the bathroom!", I say as I notice that the line for the guys bathroom is loaded with 35-50 drunken cowboys. **** it, I say and get in line. Well, the line moved like a drunken turtle, when I finally got up to the stall the pressure building in my colon was at an all time high. The exit door burst open and two giant ****ers came in saying "these girls have to use the stall!". Just then my ******* puckered filling me with courage and I yelled ," **** you, I have to use that ****ing thing." The giant in the too tight shirt and jeans yelled back, "you are going to have to wait'. I yelled back, "**** you dude, if I wait any longer, I am going to **** on your shoe". He didn't say anything. I made a bee line for the stall and got shoved out the exit door. I was too worried at possibly shitting my pants, otherwise I may have ran back in there an got my *** kicked.
Anyway, back to the story......I hopelessly wandered about looking for a place to drop this load when I saw my salvation in the distance. Like a vision out of the heavens it read......Family Changing Area. I started running for I knew that no families are at the Joe watching Toby Keith and that the family restroom was my only shot at getting rid of the coming thunder in my gut. As I neared my destination, the pressure started to build.......I finally arrived and discovered to my horror that all the ****ing thing had was changing tables!! Nowhere in sight was a place to take a dump. Now, I am legendary for shitting and holding *****, so calmly, I looked for a new place. However, I had not ever had pressure like this before.
Horrified I started to begin my quest a new, when quite suddenly my *******, quite literally exploded! I **** my ****ing pants! ..........
Right there.....in the middle of 5,000 people........ in the concourse at the ****ing Joe Louis Arena..... I **** my ****ing pants!
**** was exploding out of my ******* filling my pants at an alarming rate, with no sign of stopping. Never in my life had I taken such a big ****, and this time it was in my ****ing pants!! Not knowing what to do, I looked for somewhere to go to get my head together. I saw a secluded spot behind the Little Ceasers station. I had to do the stiff legged "poop walk" over to this hallway. As I hobbled over, I noticed **** starting to seep out of the bottom of my jeans, creating a poop trail to my hiding spot!! Oh, sweet Jesus what do I do? I am at a concert, my wife is all the way in the sixth ****ing row, and I have an assload of **** in my jeans!!! To top it off, the nearest bathroom is what seems like miles away!! Just when it can't get any worse, this beautiful woman sees me bent over with my *** against the wall and says "hey what are you doing over there?" Oh dear God, I think, she is coming this way!!!! I look down and see **** all over the top of my shoe!! While I was frantically struggling for what to do next, she walks over and says; "Is this some kind of secret bathroom, everyone else is in line out here?"
"Nah, I am waiting for my wife, why do you ask?", I say trying to sound unconcerned about the giant tub of butt chile in my pants. "Because it kind of smells like pooh over here", she replies!!!
I wished for my life to end right there.
I had to stand there for twenty minutes waiting for the concert to start before it got clear enough for my to get to the ****ing bathroom!! When I finally got to the stall, I did not know what to do. I took down my pants and was horrified at the shear volume of **** in my pants. I had to rip off my underwear like Conan the Barbarian and throw them in the corner. I looked down and discovered that the **** had soaked through to my jeans and that I was covered in **** from my ***** to my ankles!! I sat down to collect my thoughts and promptly slid off the ****ing toilet seat because I had so much **** on my ***! As I lay there in miscellaneous puddles of ****, I wished for my life to end for the second time that night. I stood up and I began to wipe off my butt, thighs and calfs when I noticed **** all over my shoe. I took my shoe off. **** was on and in my sock!! I took my sock off. I was now standing naked on one leg with my pants on the floor and a **** filled shoe in my hand. All of a sudden ,someone started ****ing banging on the door.
"What the hell is going on in there?" someone yells. "**** off *******", I say trying to vent some of my embarrasment as rage. "This is the Detroit Police *******, come out or we are coming in!", came the reply. "Is something wrong, you have been in there for almost an hour!" Dumbstruck I say, "Oh, its o.k. I sat in some **** and I am trying to get it off my jeans". In between howls of laughter from the other drunken patrons of the shithouse came back, "oh don't worry, take all....the....time....you....need". I wished for my life to end for the third time that night.
I go back to the task at hand and start scraping the **** out of my jeans. Pull, scrape, flush. Pull, scrape, flush. I went through two giant rolls of toilet paper when I discovered that I had run out!! I did not know what to do, or how I was going to get out of here!! I decided to pull up my pants and wrap my sweater around my waist. This left me with only my whitey tighty, but a tight shirt was the least of my worries.
I went to the sink to wash up and headed out. I walked up to the nearest shirt vendor and asked to be given "the biggest ****ing t shirt you have, I don't care what it says" I happily paid 30 bucks for the "I heart Toby Keith" shirt that the ****er gave me. I put it on and adjusted my sweater around my waist, ran up to the bar and got my two drinks, and headed back to my wife.
When I finally got back, she said "where the hell have you been? I was worried". I did not respond. My wife, being filled with Margerita's began to dance to "Who's your daddy?". "Dance with me babe", she says. "Nah, I'm good", I respond. "Whats the matter" she says as she looks into my eyes. "I just **** my pants, babe", I say struggling to hold on to the last vestiges of my manhood.
"YOU WHAT? .........................DID YOU WIPE OFF? ......................WHAT DID YOU DO WITH YOUR UNDERWEAR?" came the rapid fire questions. "Do I stink?" I say, "Do you think other people can smell me?" She drunkenly says, "No, I don't think so". I related the story, and she asked if I wanted to go.....I said "**** no, I paid $300 for these tickets, I am watching this ****ing concert!"
I started to watch the concert and even got into a few songs. Just then I noticed that everytime a adjusted a bit, a God-awful smell would come up. I stood there stiff legged for about an hour with **** drying in my pants when I noticed this buxom brunette that was sitting in front of me yelling at her husband. She was looking back saying "Did you just ****ing fart?", she asks. "NO" comes the response. "Why?" "It smells like someone **** there ****ing pants!" she says as she waved the offending smell away from her!! ..........Oh for the love of God.........My worst fears were confirmed, people around me could smell!!! Just then one of the two big girls sitting behind my yells, "It smells like a dirty diaper around here!" I wished for my life to end for the fourth and final time that night. After waiting for the proper seconds to tick by, so as not to be connected with the previous comments; I told Jen that we had to leave.
All the way back to the car, I had to walk with **** now freezing to my legs. I also had my legs and ***** chaffing from the friction of movement. When we finally got to the car, we had to drive all the way home with the windows down. I almost puked from the smell. Forty five humilliating minutes later, I finally arrived at my house!!
I thought you would all appreciate the humor in the situation. Please be advised that it is 100% true and there has been no exaggerations. I will never forget the Toby Keith concert and will never eat at Tom's Oyster Bar again!! Please feel free to share with your friends so that they don't have the same experience at Tom's!!
Un-****ing-believeable!!!!!!!!!!!!
To all,
The following email may be quite lengthy, but please read the entire thing. I don't think you will be disappointed. I wanted to tell you about what happened to me Saturday night.....
Saturday night, my wife and I had tickets to the Toby Keith concert. I had bought them for my wife for her birthday. I had sixth row tickets that I paid about $300 for!! I wanted to make a night of it, take her to dinner and then to the concert. Anyway, on our way to the concert we stopped at Tom's Oyster Bar. I ordered calamari for an appetizer and the Tuna special for dinner. After a great dinner, we headed to the concert.
We got there half way through Tracy Lawrence's set. Being in the sixth row, we had to spend quite a bit of time getting to the seats. All of a sudden, I get a searing pain in my stomach. I think....oh no....this can't be.....jesus.....I may have to take a ****! I had heard about seafood poisoning before, but I desperately hoped that this was not the case. I calmly tell my wife that I am going to go get us another drink and I may stop by the bathroom. By the time I make it all the way to the concourse, the searing pain is accompanied with searing pressure on my rectum. My stomach is in knots - blub, blurb, gurgle- the pressure is building. I am walking around the concourse desperately looking for a bathroom when I started to get the cold sweats. "What the ****, is everyone going to the bathroom!", I say as I notice that the line for the guys bathroom is loaded with 35-50 drunken cowboys. **** it, I say and get in line. Well, the line moved like a drunken turtle, when I finally got up to the stall the pressure building in my colon was at an all time high. The exit door burst open and two giant ****ers came in saying "these girls have to use the stall!". Just then my ******* puckered filling me with courage and I yelled ," **** you, I have to use that ****ing thing." The giant in the too tight shirt and jeans yelled back, "you are going to have to wait'. I yelled back, "**** you dude, if I wait any longer, I am going to **** on your shoe". He didn't say anything. I made a bee line for the stall and got shoved out the exit door. I was too worried at possibly shitting my pants, otherwise I may have ran back in there an got my *** kicked.
Anyway, back to the story......I hopelessly wandered about looking for a place to drop this load when I saw my salvation in the distance. Like a vision out of the heavens it read......Family Changing Area. I started running for I knew that no families are at the Joe watching Toby Keith and that the family restroom was my only shot at getting rid of the coming thunder in my gut. As I neared my destination, the pressure started to build.......I finally arrived and discovered to my horror that all the ****ing thing had was changing tables!! Nowhere in sight was a place to take a dump. Now, I am legendary for shitting and holding *****, so calmly, I looked for a new place. However, I had not ever had pressure like this before.
Horrified I started to begin my quest a new, when quite suddenly my *******, quite literally exploded! I **** my ****ing pants! ..........
Right there.....in the middle of 5,000 people........ in the concourse at the ****ing Joe Louis Arena..... I **** my ****ing pants!
**** was exploding out of my ******* filling my pants at an alarming rate, with no sign of stopping. Never in my life had I taken such a big ****, and this time it was in my ****ing pants!! Not knowing what to do, I looked for somewhere to go to get my head together. I saw a secluded spot behind the Little Ceasers station. I had to do the stiff legged "poop walk" over to this hallway. As I hobbled over, I noticed **** starting to seep out of the bottom of my jeans, creating a poop trail to my hiding spot!! Oh, sweet Jesus what do I do? I am at a concert, my wife is all the way in the sixth ****ing row, and I have an assload of **** in my jeans!!! To top it off, the nearest bathroom is what seems like miles away!! Just when it can't get any worse, this beautiful woman sees me bent over with my *** against the wall and says "hey what are you doing over there?" Oh dear God, I think, she is coming this way!!!! I look down and see **** all over the top of my shoe!! While I was frantically struggling for what to do next, she walks over and says; "Is this some kind of secret bathroom, everyone else is in line out here?"
"Nah, I am waiting for my wife, why do you ask?", I say trying to sound unconcerned about the giant tub of butt chile in my pants. "Because it kind of smells like pooh over here", she replies!!!
I wished for my life to end right there.
I had to stand there for twenty minutes waiting for the concert to start before it got clear enough for my to get to the ****ing bathroom!! When I finally got to the stall, I did not know what to do. I took down my pants and was horrified at the shear volume of **** in my pants. I had to rip off my underwear like Conan the Barbarian and throw them in the corner. I looked down and discovered that the **** had soaked through to my jeans and that I was covered in **** from my ***** to my ankles!! I sat down to collect my thoughts and promptly slid off the ****ing toilet seat because I had so much **** on my ***! As I lay there in miscellaneous puddles of ****, I wished for my life to end for the second time that night. I stood up and I began to wipe off my butt, thighs and calfs when I noticed **** all over my shoe. I took my shoe off. **** was on and in my sock!! I took my sock off. I was now standing naked on one leg with my pants on the floor and a **** filled shoe in my hand. All of a sudden ,someone started ****ing banging on the door.
"What the hell is going on in there?" someone yells. "**** off *******", I say trying to vent some of my embarrasment as rage. "This is the Detroit Police *******, come out or we are coming in!", came the reply. "Is something wrong, you have been in there for almost an hour!" Dumbstruck I say, "Oh, its o.k. I sat in some **** and I am trying to get it off my jeans". In between howls of laughter from the other drunken patrons of the shithouse came back, "oh don't worry, take all....the....time....you....need". I wished for my life to end for the third time that night.
I go back to the task at hand and start scraping the **** out of my jeans. Pull, scrape, flush. Pull, scrape, flush. I went through two giant rolls of toilet paper when I discovered that I had run out!! I did not know what to do, or how I was going to get out of here!! I decided to pull up my pants and wrap my sweater around my waist. This left me with only my whitey tighty, but a tight shirt was the least of my worries.
I went to the sink to wash up and headed out. I walked up to the nearest shirt vendor and asked to be given "the biggest ****ing t shirt you have, I don't care what it says" I happily paid 30 bucks for the "I heart Toby Keith" shirt that the ****er gave me. I put it on and adjusted my sweater around my waist, ran up to the bar and got my two drinks, and headed back to my wife.
When I finally got back, she said "where the hell have you been? I was worried". I did not respond. My wife, being filled with Margerita's began to dance to "Who's your daddy?". "Dance with me babe", she says. "Nah, I'm good", I respond. "Whats the matter" she says as she looks into my eyes. "I just **** my pants, babe", I say struggling to hold on to the last vestiges of my manhood.
"YOU WHAT? .........................DID YOU WIPE OFF? ......................WHAT DID YOU DO WITH YOUR UNDERWEAR?" came the rapid fire questions. "Do I stink?" I say, "Do you think other people can smell me?" She drunkenly says, "No, I don't think so". I related the story, and she asked if I wanted to go.....I said "**** no, I paid $300 for these tickets, I am watching this ****ing concert!"
I started to watch the concert and even got into a few songs. Just then I noticed that everytime a adjusted a bit, a God-awful smell would come up. I stood there stiff legged for about an hour with **** drying in my pants when I noticed this buxom brunette that was sitting in front of me yelling at her husband. She was looking back saying "Did you just ****ing fart?", she asks. "NO" comes the response. "Why?" "It smells like someone **** there ****ing pants!" she says as she waved the offending smell away from her!! ..........Oh for the love of God.........My worst fears were confirmed, people around me could smell!!! Just then one of the two big girls sitting behind my yells, "It smells like a dirty diaper around here!" I wished for my life to end for the fourth and final time that night. After waiting for the proper seconds to tick by, so as not to be connected with the previous comments; I told Jen that we had to leave.
All the way back to the car, I had to walk with **** now freezing to my legs. I also had my legs and ***** chaffing from the friction of movement. When we finally got to the car, we had to drive all the way home with the windows down. I almost puked from the smell. Forty five humilliating minutes later, I finally arrived at my house!!
I thought you would all appreciate the humor in the situation. Please be advised that it is 100% true and there has been no exaggerations. I will never forget the Toby Keith concert and will never eat at Tom's Oyster Bar again!! Please feel free to share with your friends so that they don't have the same experience at Tom's!!
Un-****ing-believeable!!!!!!!!!!!!
www.myspace.com/emrock
Joined: Oct 2002
Posts: 4,469
From: Tampa,FL
Re: **** Tom's Oyster Bar
Originally Posted by Mogwai
What? you liked it better when it was my poop? Well, sorry but, I'm a girl, it would be kinda hard for me to wipe poo off my *****.
you never know in this day and age lol
MISCHIEVOUS!
Joined: Oct 2002
Posts: 6,683
From: Apollo Beach Fl.
Re: **** Tom's Oyster Bar
Originally Posted by Mogwai
What? you liked it better when it was my poop? Well, sorry but, I'm a girl, it would be kinda hard for me to wipe poo off my *****.
Opps. Sowwie. I didnt know.. 
