Skip to content

Storytime

Copypasta of a person’s past experience or events that is so absurd it became a meme of its own. Usually untrue stories that tries to circle jerk opinions.


Poop Knife

    Poop knife started from a story on r/confession in Reddit
    An archive of the original story

    The Poop Knife is a post on Reddit about Original Poster (OP) and his family owning a knife specifically for slicing huge poops stuck in their toilet bowl. The original post has since been deleted but its archived version still exists.

    My family poops big. Maybe it's genetic, maybe it's our diet, but everyone births giant logs of crap. If anyone has laid a mega-poop, you know that sometimes it won't flush. It lays across the hole in the bottom of the bowl and the vortex of draining water merely gives it a spin as it mocks you. Growing up, this was a common enough occurrence that our family had a poop knife. It was an old rusty kitchen knife that hung on a nail in the laundry room, only to be used for that purpose. It was normal to walk through the hallway and have someone call out "hey, can you get me the poop knife"? I thought it was standard kit. You have your plunger, your toilet brush, and your poop knife.
    
    Fast forward to 22. It's been a day or two between poops and I'm over at my friend's house. My friend was the local dealer and always had 'guests' over, because you can't buy weed without sitting on your ass and sampling it for an hour. I excuse myself and lay a gigantic turd. I look down and see that it's a sideways one, so I crack the door and call out for my friend. He arrives and I ask him for his poop knife. "My what?" Your poop knife, I say. I need to use it. Please. "Wtf is a poop knife?" Obviously he has one, but maybe he calls it by a more delicate name. A fecal cleaver? A Dung divider? A guano glaive? I explain what it is I want and why I want it. He starts giggling. Then laughing. Then lots of people start laughing. It turns out, the music stopped and everyone heard my pleas through the door. It also turns out that none of them had poop knives, it was just my fucked up family with their fucked up bowels. FML.
    
    I told this to my wife last night, who was amused and horrified at the same time. It turns out that she did not know what a poop knife was and had been using the old rusty knife hanging in the utility closet as a basic utility knife. Thankfully she didn't cook with it, but used it to open Amazon boxes. She will be getting her own utility knife now.
    
    [Edit: Common question - Why was this not in the bathroom instead of the laundry room? Answer. We only had one poop knife, and the laundry room was central to all three bathrooms. I have no idea why we didn't have three poop knives. All I know is that we didn't. We had the one. Possibly because my father was notoriously cheap about the weirdest things. So yes, we shared our poop knife.]
    

    Alternate formatting

    My family poops big. Maybe it's genetic, maybe it's our diet, but everyone births giant logs of crap. If anyone has laid a mega-poop, you know that sometimes it won't flush. It lays across the hole in the bottom of the bowl and the vortex of draining water merely gives it a spin as it mocks you.
    
    Growing up, this was a common enough occurrence that our family had a poop knife. It was an old rusty kitchen knife that hung on a nail in the laundry room, only to be used for that purpose. It was normal to walk through the hallway and have someone call out "hey, can you get me the poop knife"?
    
    I thought it was standard kit. You have your plunger, your toilet brush, and your poop knife.
    
    Fast forward to 22. It's been a day or two between poops and I'm over at my friend's house. My friend was the local dealer and always had 'guests' over, because you can't buy weed without sitting on your ass and sampling it for an hour. I excuse myself and lay a gigantic turd. I look down and see that it's a sideways one, so I crack the door and call out for my friend. He arrives and I ask him for his poop knife.
    
    "My what?"
    
    Your poop knife, I say. I need to use it. Please.
    
    "Wtf is a poop knife?"
    
    Obviously he has one, but maybe he calls it by a more delicate name. A fecal cleaver? A Dung divider? A guano glaive? I explain what it is I want and why I want it.
    
    He starts giggling. Then laughing. Then lots of people start laughing. It turns out, the music stopped and everyone heard my pleas through the door. It also turns out that none of them had poop knives, it was just my fucked up family with their fucked up bowels. FML.
    
    I told this to my wife last night, who was amused and horrified at the same time. It turns out that she did not know what a poop knife was and had been using the old rusty knife hanging in the utility closet as a basic utility knife. Thankfully she didn't cook with it, but used it to open Amazon boxes.
    
    She will be getting her own utility knife now.
    
    [Edit: Common question - Why was this not in the bathroom instead of the laundry room? Answer. We only had one poop knife, and the laundry room was central to all three bathrooms. I have no idea why we didn't have three poop knives. All I know is that we didn't. We had the one. Possibly because my father was notoriously cheap about the weirdest things. So yes, we shared our poop knife.]

    No one outpizzas the hut

      Out Pizza the Hut is a catchphrase inspired by Pizza Hut’s slogan, “No One OutPizzas The Hut,” which started in 2016.

      No one outpizzas the hut. trust me. I've tried. I've tried so hard to outpizza the hut and it cost me everything. no matter how much cheese, how many cheap toppings i put on my pizza i always got outpizza'd by the hut. No matter how much my pizzas tasted like plastic, pizza hut pizzas always tasted even more synthetic. for months I've been severely depressed trying to figure it out. it all started as a little hobby, a bit of a goof - "can i outpizza the hut?" but it soon became my obsession and eventually my downfall. the fateful moment i had that thought was the moment I doomed myself. They must have some sort of secret ingredient i thought. after trying literally everything from the supermarket and not coming close to the plasticy taste of the hut i actually went insane. i started clawing at my skin, scratching my face for hours with my long sharp fingernails. at first it was almost unnoticeable but i knew i could not hide the scars forever, soon enough karen would find out. I needed to put an end to this but the only way to do that would be to outpizza the hut, as i knew. so i tried one last ingredient. i cut off a piece of my own arm and put it on the pizza. i added the shittiest sauce i had and cheese made from 50 percent plastic and 50 percent wood chips and baked it real good. the taste was almost exactly like pizza hut but the meat wasn't tender enough. i knew it had to be younger meat. from someone much younger than me. i knew what had to be done. there was a moment of doubt as i grabbed the knife and went into holly's room, up to her little crib while karen was at work. but i knew what had to be done. I'd finally done it. I've created a pizza even shittier than pizza hut or so I thought. but it still wasn't horrible enough. when karen came home and saw what i had done she freaked out. i truly loved karen just like i loved holly but she was going to call the cops on me and I couldn't let my pizza hut mission be compromised by her. they were only my first two victims. i went on to sacrifice many more in the name of pizza perfection before i got caught. Now i am sitting here on death row, my execution is only hours away. Do you want to guess what I'll choose as my last meal? 

      Tragedy of Helldiver Reynold The Bold

        Based on the original ‘Tragedy of Darth Plagueis The Wise‘ which was an iconic scene from Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith.

        Did you ever hear the tragedy of Helldiver Reynold The Bold? I thought not. It’s not a story the Skull Admiral would tell you. It’s a Helldiver legend. Helldiver Reynold was a super citizen turned automaton sympathizer, so powerful and so experienced he could use the 500KG bomb to destroy Fabricators and Bug nest. He had such influence on the citizens of super earth he could recruit so many Helldivers that democracy would always prevail. Communism is a pathway to many anti-democratic thoughts some consider to be unnatural. He became so sympathetic… the only thing he was afraid of was losing an automaton planet, which eventually, of course, the scrap did. Unfortunately, he spread his ideologies to every helldiver he knew, then his robot enemies killed him in battle. Ironic. He could save robots from death but they killed him in the end. 

        Hello Tanner, Lucas, Graham and Eric

          Hello Tanner, Lucas, Graham and Eric Right now, you boys must have a lot of questions going through your mind: where is this small room we just woke up in, why the floor is so sticky and why does this room smell so sweet and sugary? But before that, I'd like to ask you a simple question: what exactly is supposed to go in a Big Gulp cup? If your answer is a fountain drink from the 7-Eleven self-service area, then you would be correct. In fact, there are several signs next to the Big Gulp cup dispensers that make the expected contents of a Big Gulp crystal clear. However, yesterday afternoon, you boys decided to fill the Big Gulp cup with something other than a carbonated beverage: one Twix, one Baby Ruth, one Toblerone and one Resees Take 5. I know exactly what was inside that Big Gulp cup because after exiting the 7-Eleven, I watched Tanner remove the lid of the Big Gulp and each of you carefully remove your favorite candy bar from the cup one by one. However, the receipt only showed that you purchased one Big Gulp drink. You even went so far as to fill the entire cup with A&W Root Beer to disguise your stolen candy bars from Toby the store clerk with poor vision. Lucas said himself that Tobys poor eye sight means that he wouldn't notice the submerged candy bars in your Big Gulp cup. By now, you are probably noticing that the room you are in resembles a giant Big Gulp cup, and the sticky substance on the floor is A& W Root Beer that is now rapidly filling the room. Soon, you will be submerged just like your Twix, your Baby Ruth, your Toblerone, and your Resees Take 5. And just like those stolen candy bars, you have no choice but to suffocate in the sugary soda. Your only hope is the same store clerk Toby who I have brought here to examine this giant cup and to tell me what he sees. Maybe he sees four helpless boys and there's a chance he might save you, or maybe with his poor eyesight he doesn't see you at all, just how he didn't see the four candy bars you stole right under his nose. How ironic, the same poor vision you were willing to take advantage of will now determine if you live or die. Let the games begin. 

          That sandwich is named THE BALLER.

            I live in the newton corner/nonantum area. Payton lives in my neighborhood. There’s this breakfast sandwich joint called flour house bakery that’s also a Mike and pattys location. The actual ownership/identification is confusing and doesn’t matter, it’s on Adams st. The dude at the counter had told me that Payton comes in and gets the sandwich a certain way. He adds a hash brown patty and house spicy mayo. That sandwich is named THE BALLER. I get it at least once a week and think about PP each time. 

            Fortnite Save the World ruined my life

              I bought STW around early 2018, at the time I was still a young teen and didn't understand it so I just didn't touch it again until about a year ago. A friend of mine decided to buy it and asked if I wanted to play with them. I agreed and quickly got very into the game. I played it for hours everyday until I eventually made it to twine and beat the MSK. I wasn't done though, I still wanted to play so i gave myself a new goal, getting the platinum trophy for PlayStation. I started grinding very hard playing for up to 10 hours straight some days, and in one of these sessions I noticed something. I found ray very attractive, her voice especially. I started playing missions just to hear her talk to me. I very quickly became obsessed with her, buying custom prints of her on poster, pillowcases, mousepads, everything, I even spent $100+on a code to get the robo-ray skin pack. It got so bad I missed work to play more STW just so I could listen to her. I paid money for NSFW commissions of her. I miss family gatherings, ignored my friends, and so much more. I eventually got fired and had to move back in with my parents. They obviously didn't support my lifestyle at the time and made me get a job.
              
              I'm better now, full time employment, my own place, but I still can't play STW with sound on.