The internal affairs of the modern gentleman are some of the most storied accounts ever pontificated upon during juicy and ripe exchanges among good friends, and — despite the prudish and puritanical preconceptions of commoners — these tales are celebrated and discussed just as feverishly and intensely as any compelling business ethics/geo-political/science vs. religion/Illuminati conversation. From high on a porcelain throne, or in the most gentlemanly of cases an ivory throne, these brave veterans of battle have dispersed their legions of solid soldiers to the watery depths of America, and have lived to tell the tale. Due to his decedent lifestyle and never ending quest for excess, a gentleman is known to exert immense effort to record and chronolize his most precious moments, to not only learn from his own mistakes or successes, but also to pass them on to younger, aspiring gentlemen. Join us as we enter into these hallowed annals to discover the luxurious inner-most workings of the modern gentleman.

A Gentleman Continues His Streak


StinkyClean: I have shit myself in the past … I will shit myself most certainly in the future – It is the patience in between where your drawers get clean and your spirits lifted – Frank Walden
TotalTowler: that quote is quite pertinent after the poop streak you left on my fresh clean towel this morning. I like where your head is at.
StinkyClean: what? Did I really?
TotalTowler: only slightly
StinkyClean: slightly what?
TotalTowler: slightly more than enough to make me put it back in the wash
StinkyClean: WHAT?!
StinkyClean: WHAT?!
TotalTowler: haha i’m serious
StinkyClean: JESUS H….
StinkyClean: how would I do that
StinkyClean: I don’t even understand
TotalTowler: shrug
StinkyClean: LOL I think I just hit a new low…

A Gentleman Exercises Quick Action


ShartAttack:  Davison, remember that time we were heading out of town and I was telling how as I get older my body does weird things.  Like I fart when I pee now?
Davison:  and ejaculate when you sneeze.  of course.
ShartAttack:  Well my body just decided to take it one step further and tried to make me shart myself.
ShartAttack:  I saved it though, I clenched it and duck walked to the stall and now clean as a whistle
Davison:  did you bring a wet paper towel into the stall with you for extra cleaning ability?
ShartAttack:  that was too much duck walking. the bathroom layout isn’t too conducive to shart prevention
Davison:  it rarely is. though i don’t feel like it’s the bathroom’s responsibility to manage those urges.
ShartAttack:  I met this obstacle head on, with fire in my bowels and courage in my eye
Davison:  and little bit of shit in your pants. i’m proud of you son. lesser men would have crumbled under that sort of pressure. how will you celebrate this feat?
ShartAttack:  I just put in a lipper at my desk
ShartAttack: my boss walked by and told me if gross so I told him to go fuck himself

A Gentleman Frames a Feline


BilliamShatner: i am a gentleman
WiseSpockMan: how so
BilliamShatner: as are you. just facts
WiseSpockMan: i like the way this conversation is going
BilliamShatner: however, our better instincts are often tested. take, for example, today: around two o’clock, i had finished my afternoon lavatorial event
WiseSpockMan: i’m intrigued, continue
BilliamShatner: and i realized that i was PROBABLY going to have to take a shower when i got home. i, however, did not go home. at quarter towards 6, i took a miss Tina Cumshot for a ¡culinary engagement mexicain!
WiseSpockMan: haha
BilliamShatner: she was turned on when i told our waitress that her ceviche was a little spoiled and too acid, so despite my insistence, she took it off the bill
WiseSpockMan: all-business, all-day
BilliamShatner: no doubt
BilliamShatner: afterwards, we drove to her house. after a few hours of coitus, we found ourselves incredibly perspirous
BilliamShatner: here’s where i need to cut the shit (foreshadowing)
BilliamShatner: she sauntered into the bathroom, expecting me to follow. when i got up, i turned around and saw what i will tellingly describe as a “smear”….
WiseSpockMan: oh snap. what did you do?
BilliamShatner: i ripped the sheet off of the bed, curled it into a ball, threw, it in the corner, and got into the shower
WiseSpockMan: successful. high five brotha
BilliamShatner: it continues into the shower, but i look down and see the faintest bit of brown water hit the floor as water runs down my back. i snap into gear
BilliamShatner: i pretend to slip and right myself, and sexily say how we should return to the bed room. she doesn’t notice that the sheet is gone. another round begins. third and final.i dismount victoriously!
BilliamShatner: she rolls over a little in ecstasy, and i see that a stain had seeped through the comforter. i look down
BilliamShatner: she looks down
BilliamShatner: “what is that”
BilliamShatner: “i have no idea”
WiseSpockMan: oh shit (no pun intended)
BilliamShatner: “is it blood?” she says
BilliamShatner: “i don’t know I hope not”
BilliamShatner: after a little talk about the blood theory and her disbelief that would bleed, i sense possibly an air in her voice of “fuck, pregnancy”. naturally, i CANT let her think this. so i investigate by smelling it. do the whole bit. “it smells less like blood, and more like… something else”
BilliamShatner: “well it wasn’t ME!” she says
BilliamShatner: “well i don’t know!”
BilliamShatner: “it was the cat then” she says
BilliamShatner: who am i to tell her it wasn’t the cat!
BilliamShatner: ANYWAYS my point is, i should NOT have told her then, lest i completely destroy the electric mood
BilliamShatner: i’m going to tell her, but i need reassurance that i HAD to cover up
WiseSpockMan: don’t
BilliamShatner: well, i might not immediately
WiseSpockMan: do NOT.
BilliamShatner: but DUDE, when she cleans that sheet, and sees that it was NOT a cat. you better be there, ready to go to battle. because i, a gentleman, shat her sheet
WiseSpockMan: hahahaha. i just lol’d
WiseSpockMan: yeah i understand. it sucks she’s smart. there is the off chance she won’t put the two and two together
BilliamShatner: by god, we can hope
WiseSpockMan: as a fellow gentleman i’ll hope for you
WiseSpockMan: i feel as if i’m now incorporated into the situation
BilliamShatner: haha
BilliamShatner: all gentlemen of the world are

A Gentleman’s Coup De Grace


When I was 17 my girlfriend at the time was finally ready to have sex. I, as one might expect of a 17 year old, was excited. Neither hell nor high water was going to stand between me and my final destination.

I get ready for the night, trim everything up, shower extra well. Unfortunately there was also an issue. I have a digestional disorder that sometimes cause my shit to become large and quite solid while still inside me. I wasn’t aware it was a treatable problem and, in fact, just thought everyone had to deal with the equivalent of anal kidney stones. I bring this up because I had a mighty one which had been loaded into the gun for several days.

Let me set the scene. Her parents are away. We have her house to ourselves. She was always a little kinky so she demands we do it in her parents bed.

I walk in to a candle holocaust. She’s been working on this all day apparently, and its as bright as high noon in there with the lights off. Which is good, because she proceeds to do a sweet, sexy little dance for me. At 16, she was AMAZING. For those of you who never experienced a female at that age, I pity the fool.

Now I’m sitting on the bed, watching this dance. I smile and tell her how good she looks. Unfortunately, most of my attention is focused on the dull throbbing from my sphincter and the large amount of intestinal discomfort associated with not dropping duce in days. But somehow I still get hard and we go to town.

She starts out on top, then we switch. I bend her over the bed, and I even smack her ass (a ballsy move at the time, but she loved it). Due to my built up distraction, I last for what seems like FOREVER. She can’t stop moaning and telling me how good it feels, and then she says what every man wants to hear “I want to make you go in my mouth.” I **** love women.

So she goes down on me. She was always average at best in the head department but at least she tried. She pops my **** out of her mouth long enough to look up at me and say “tell me if you like this”. Then I feel it.

She stuck her finger up my ass.

My brain hits the panic switch and every muscle in my entire body locks up tighter than a three year old virgin. But its too late.

I take a massive, PAINFUL, PAINFUL shit, all over her parents comforter.

No, you aren’t understanding. I mean large. Huge. IMMENSE. Take your largest shit and multiple it by forty-two and you’ll have an idea of what flew out of me.

And gents, when I say flew, I don’t mean “I pooped.” I mean “projectile”. I mean “hurricane force winds hitting an umbrella stand”. And due to my condition, it comes out as a large, dark brown, smelly harpoon.

I know it hit her. I didn’t see it. She ran screaming “OH MY GOD OHMYGODOHMYGODEEEEEWWWWWWWW” but I always imagined that, due to her position, it hit her right in the chin. Or at least the tits.

I would like to say I got up to go after her. But I heard the bathroom door shut and I just lied there. The smell hit me after a few seconds. It smelled like someone rolled a cat in shit and threw it into a tire fire. I looked down and saw, to date, the largest bowel movement I’ve ever heard of laying on the bed. Then I noticed the blood, and when I did, I noticed the pain.

Apparently the fact that it was so large caused it to rip my ass a little bit (thought I was bleeding from the inside. This little doctors trip the next day is what taught me of my condition). There was a small pool of blood where my ass had been. A final reminder of the exact place and moment I lost my virginity. I will treasure this memory for all my days.

I grab my shit with my hands and go to the downstairs bathroom. I throw around 1/3 into the toilet and flush, fearing any more will clog it and only add to my already significant woes.

I stand there, holding 2/3’s of my biggest shit of all time, feeling a trickle of blood flow down my leg, trying to ignore the sharp pain stabbing my rectum. I find myself wishing I had a photo of this.

Anyway, I finish flushing my baby, clean off my hands, jam toilet paper between my cheeks (I skipped the bandaid) and went upstairs. I could hear my girlfriend sobbing from behind the bathroom door. I decided not to say anything to her and just keep moving. The smell in her parents room was abysmal. Its like when you take a shit and walk out of the bathroom you think “hey not so bad today,” but then you walk back in to grab your magazine and go “HOLY SHIT!”. It was one of those moments.

The scene is burned behind my eyelids for all time. My life. My shame. My very first time smelled like a pile of dead babies. I quickly got dressed since the heat from ten thousand candles was making the room feel more like a port-a-potty. I was aware enough to grab the comforter on my way out and drag it downstairs to their washer. Also the top and bottom sheets since the blood had leaked on through all the way to mattress. Still no sign of the GF but at this point I considered it a blessing.

I jammed in the washer with 3 loads worth of detergent and set it on spin, knowing that not even the hand of God would save these linens, let alone Tide and Snuggles.

Then I left. I avoided my GF’s calls for days until she came to my house. We had a long talk about what happened. Talk being synonymous with “breaking up with me because I shit on her”. And it was all over. She promised not to tell a soul and I don’t THINK she ever did. She was probably as ashamed as I was about the whole deed. But I will always this happening as the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me.

RELATED: The Gentlemen Defecation Chronicles

  add 1  RATING: 76

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15 Responses to The Gentlemen Defecation Chronicles, Number Two

  1. Arthur Fonzarelli


  2. The “slow clap” was invented for stories such as the last one.

  3. I laughed so hard…..I cried…..I sharted……

  4. O…M…G…
    Picked up his shit with his own 2 hands…
    A true gentelman, indeed.

    Not right for her to have broken up with the poor guy, as the old saying goes: don’t stick your hand in the lion’s den lest you’re ready to be bit. (Or finger, as it were in this case.)

  6. We forgot to add the poetic musings of this erudite Gent.

    Gent James

  7. Uh….you missed replacing one of the screen names….

  8. The last story sounds very Tucker Max-ish. I’m skeptical

  9. That last story was amazing…inspirational even, terrific composure considering the circumstances and your age

  10. i actually have tears in my eyes from the last one. the first ones, i’ve been complicit in, that last one… amazing.

  11. (slowly clapping……..)

  12. [...] in what might be the best website on the internet, the Foggy Monocle. The list all their best defecation stories of [...]

  13. That last story is reminiscent of Tucker Max. However, I laughed so hard and cried so much that I might as well have sharted. Btw, that girl was no lady. Was she not aware of the amount of money people pay to have such an experience?

  14. [...] Here’s a sample of what’s in store for you- this from the most recent edition of their Gentleman Defecation Chronicles. When I was 17 my girlfriend at the time was finally ready to have sex. I, as one might expect of a [...]

  15. Sir Maximilian Scribe

    (slowly clapping) astounding wit and resolve for your age and circumstances sir! We can only thank the gentleman for sharing his experience and a laudable recovery! tut tut I say to the lady, but age considered…

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