This thread is definitely gross!
In my previous abode, the laundry room was in the basement. One day, while doing laundry, I had a can of italian soda with me that I left behind when I took the sheets back upstairs. The following day, I was down there again, noticed the can and took a swig.
I don't know if the earwig was alive or dead when I drank, but it was definitely dead when I finished picking the pieces out of my teeth.
blechhhhhh
eeesh!
As a teenager, I had opened up a can of cream-of-mushroom soup for myself. I dove in after heating the contents in a pan on the stove. As I remember it, it was after eating the second spoonful that I ended up with a centipede halfway inside my mouth and halfway hanging out.
This is probably the grossest thing I've personally witnessed.
I was working as a stage manager at a really old theater on Cape Cod. (Falmouth Playhouse.) There was a bad smell backstage, kind of like garbage. It was May, so still pretty cold, and the smell was not overwhelming yet. We cleaned the nooks and corners, but the smell persisted and got worse.
The first show of the season was in rehearsal. It was a new play and starred June Lockhart. So one evening, after dress rehearsal, the director needed to have us sit and get notes. The theater was really cold, so June kindly invited the cast, director, and me to come sit in her dressing room where there were a couple of space heaters. It was a little crowded for 10 people, but we gathered around the director, some of us on the floor.
A few minutes later, one of the actors jumped up, pointing into the open closet. "That wall's moving!" he screamed. We all jumped up. There were hundreds of maggots descending down the wall to enjoy the cozy warmth of June's dressing room.
The next day, the crew guys pulled down the ceiling and dragged out the dead raccoon. It was hugely bloated and the smell. Oh god. Tough guys cried.
The dressing room was fumigated and sealed. We found huge black flies for weeks in the basement. Ah, the joys of summer stock.
Aaaaagh! Maggots are definitely gross!
That story is a topper, Mac. Geez, Louise.
I had a for-too-long untreated middle ear infection. The thing oozed daily, a lot. Later it formed blobs of mucus that I could pull out of my ear like magician pulls a rabbit out of his hat.
I was in town, in a bank, standing in a line. A friend bumped into me and joined me to chat while standing in the line. My ear was itchy and uncomfortable. When he wasn't looking, I put my pinky in my ear and tried to wiggle it a bit, so that it bloody stop the itching. Sure enough, I pulled out a huge fat juicy rabbit. It was slimy, smelly, greenish. Size of a five or six chewe up chewing gums... I hid it in my palm. Had to stand there for another half hour with that thing in my palm, carrying a random lighthearted conversation. Blech. Not as gross as maggots though.
So a month or so ago I was working on necropsy. "Necropsy" is an animal autopsy, only withoiut all the pretense of sterility or the neat little package. More people with big knives and saws wrestling with the carcass of a cow or horse that may or may not have died of some horrifying infection, and that may or may not have sat out in a hot, sunny field for a couple of days before it came to you. Usually not that bad, because we're a hospital primarily, so at least they're usually fresh.
This one day, though, a heifer comes in. She's a Holstein, not pregnant yet, but would have been soon. A few hundred pounds. She'd been out for a day or so.
So there's some gas when we cut into the carcass. Not a ton, though. Not nearly as much as we expected from her belly, bloated so tight it's like a drum in spots.
Now, a cow's stomach is a big thing. There's a big fermentation vat -- the rumen -- on the left side, a little smaller than an oil drum in a big cow, where all the stuff that a cow eats goes to be fermented.
Sort of like beer made out of grain, grass, and cow spit, but nonalcoholic.
It's late in the day and there's a tornado watch on, so everybody wants to get home before the big storm hits. So we're maybe a little careless when we heave what we take to be the rumen out of the carcass and onto a cart and then cut into it to check the ingesta.
On first prod of the knife there is a rush -- a veritable stream -- of tartly rancid smelling white fluid.
What the f*ck? we're wondering ----- this cow's too old to be drinking milk.
We widen the cut.
Now the white fluid comes out in a sluggish, fat stream, and looking through the incision we can see yellow white clumps swirling in the fluid and out the hole and getting stuck in the drain cover on the floor.
The clotted stuff lines the inside of the sac, too. Coats it completely.
Maybe 10 gallons have sloshed out into the floor when I come out of my trance and take a better look at things.
This wasn't the rumen. This was an abscess adhered to the side of the rumen, which was pressed pretty flat against the cows abdominal wall, cowering there like an abused child.
The pus continued to gush out of the abscess we'd lanced.
40 gallons of pus was our best estimate when we examined the thick, fibrous abscess capsule later on. 40 gallons of completely unexpected, partially curdled pus.
I rode my bike home in a severe thunderstorm with 40-60 mph gusts.
DAYUM, pdawg, nothing could beat that! You should have heard the noise I just made, it wasn't speach, it was more primal. Eyyyuck!
Egads, I'll have nightmares tonight!
Oh gross, PDog. I'll bet you actually got some pleasure out of the rain and wind gusts--if only to clear out your head and nose.
littlek, I think any freaky fantasies I may have had about you that might have led to inernet stalking have been cured.
Any problem you might have with A2K men in the future refer them to your first post and BAM their done.
Diane wrote:Oh gross, PDog. I'll bet you actually got some pleasure out of the rain and wind gusts--if only to clear out your head and nose.
Not just that, Lady D. The aprons in that place aren't exactly full coverage, and the coveralls aren't exactly waterproof...
This is so not a thread to read before breakfast.
I was thinking of having some yogurt.
No longer.
(Letsee, llama spit? No. Filthy camel hair? No. Something will occur.)
Amigo wrote:littlek, I think any freaky fantasies I may have had about you that might have led to inernet stalking have been cured.
Any problem you might have with A2K men in the future refer them to your first post and BAM their done.
Sebaceous cysts are the new black.
(searching memory banks for gross stuff)
Why is it that, while disgusted, we seem to enjoy pushing the pus out of various things on our bodies?
littlek wrote:The nephew is HERE! I just got to spend a whole lot of time with him and my sis. And that did help a lot. He likes me, I make him giggle his sweet little 5 month old giggle.
Something that lovely just doesn't belong on a gross-out thread.
patiodog wrote:This was an abscess adhered to the side of the rumen, which was pressed pretty flat against the cows abdominal wall, cowering there like an abused child.
wow pdog, great imagery, made me want to cry for the abscess.
Why must abscesses hide like that? Like frightened children.
about the only thing i can offer to this one-of-a-kind thread is the severly dislocated left thumb i got when i was eighteen.
was playing hoops indoors, the guy i was guarding whipped a hard pass to a teammate under the basket, hit my thumb flush on.
it immedaitely went numb, i went to the trainer, he popped it back in, and then it hurt like a sum-bitch
i guess its not that gross, but it does make me wince every time i re-live it...
Bella Dea, you just put into words what many of us wouldn't want to admit.
There is something so satisfying about squeezing out pus. Maybe it's symbolic of squeezing out nasty, poisonous things from our lives.
On the other hand, analysis isn't necessary--it just plain feels good.
