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  • Chris Davy

S is for... Shit the bed


I’d like to start this post off by dedicating it to an old friend of mine, Andy Lowe. This isn’t because Andy has ever shit the bed, not as far as I know. He may have done, but no, this is about me.


I’ve come to writing about shit the bed because, I’ve written about a bunch of things so far. But it’s always fun to explore the controversial things that sometimes upset people. I’m not looking to upset anyone. Just, you know, broaden the topics I’ve written about. I think we’re going to go full circle in this post by the way, as in the emotional circle, it should make for an interesting one. I mean, someone has clearly read the word shit and already gone full snowflake over it. Just from that one word.





So for the benefit of those of you with a sensitive disposition, here are some other potential future topics on the horizon:


Suck my balls

Suck my cock

Shut up

Shut your face

Shut your fucking face

Shut your stupid fucking face

Shut your stupid fat fucking face

Shut your stupid fat fucking face you fuck

Salad


So, it goes a little something like this, I’m in class. Im pretty sure it was science. I’m sat at the back with Andy and some other fiends at Exmouth Community College. We were on the upper site, the site for the older kids. It’s called Gypsy Lane. Don’t know how old we were, I reckon like 14?


Basically, I’m telling my mates a story. About something that really happened to me...stop, think...we all definitely know where this is going now. Enjoy.


I guess, I was looking for sympathy; because I had been really ill. But sympathy, in the conventional sense of the word, is not what I got.


I wasn’t really desperately waiting for an opportunity to share my experience with someone. But the conversation obviously turned down this route, I realised I had something I could share, so I did.


Can I get a re-wind...must have been a few days before, perhaps weeks. I’d been off ill. Growing up I’d had a couple of occasions where I’d been pretty ill. I think we all do. Being a human can suck, and the shit we go through physically when we are ill is sometimes brutal. So on this occasion I’d had the shits. Probably coupled with some other stuff. Basically, I was feeling pretty sorry for myself.


My mum is good to me, always has been. So you know, I’ve got some food and drink to sort me out. A hot water bottle. I’m in my bed, in my room chilling, watching films. Bed time hits, and I get iiiiillllllll.


I think I woke up, probably sweating like a bitch and stinking of piss. Not because I’d pissed myself, I mean I could have, but when you sweat sometimes it smells like piss; because it’s the body getting rid of stuff. It’s the chemicals. Then I think I shit myself because I’d have a bad stomach. Like I just shit in my bed. I didn’t go to bed thinking I was that sort of ill. I just had a general bleurgh thing going on; headache, belly ache, sore throat, probably ear ache, I always had ear ache as a kid. Like fucking loads. I can’t really fucking remember exactly what I had. But for the sake of some good dramatisation let’s say I had the works.


Somehow I’d got my Mum’s attention. Might have been banging on the wall or just calling for her. Anyway, she came in, helped me get cleaned up. I think I went for a bath to make myself feel better. Pretty sure it was the middle of the night, so it was all very weird for the old body clock. Just have a bath at like 2:00am, nice.


Eventually she had got new sheets and whatever. Think my Mum put a towel across my bed sheets to be on the safe side. But all in all, I was back feeling fresh and warm. Sounds all good. Back to sleep I go.


Few hours later. Wake up. Shit myself again. Oh man this is brutal. Like, what the fuck is going on?! Mum came in to help, but this time I think she’d had enough. I mean, not that there was anything I could do, I’m ill. But you know, just stress of the moment and all that. She definitely was in a bit of a stress about it. So I think because I’d shit the bed again and we didn’t have another set of bed sheets or whatever, we just stripped the bed sheets off and I slept on another towel on top of the mattress, under the duvet. The duvet I think had survived because I’d ended up adopting some kind of glute bridge straddle pose. To separate me from the shit. I think as I was waking up, the senses kicked in and were like


*Yeah, Chris, what you think is going to happen is what is about to happen.*


*Initiate glute bridge*


I didn’t know it as a glute bridge at the time. But I’d been doing gymnastics since I was about 8. So, it probably seemed like the instinctive thing to do. You know,


No, I don’t fancy lying in my own shit and letting it spread all up my back. Better lift my ass up.


Man it was horrible.





Anyway, remember Andy Lowe? Here is the life lesson for me. I’m sat in the back of science class telling this story to Andy and my mates. Those of you wondering why would I do that...well it’s the same reason I’m writing it and sharing it with you now. I’ve just added a few other reasons to it since then...At the time I figure I was looking for sympathy...because I had felt fucking shit. I clearly only got so much sympathy from my Mum, because she’d had enough of my shit. Literally, enough of my shit ruining the bed sheets.


But, no funnily enough, Andy did not give me sympathy. Well he did. Just not the sappy soppy twat kind I think I was looking for. Because Andy was sat there in class, possibly like you are reading this, absolutely pissing himself. Like fucking curled over, crying with laughter. I don’t think I had ever shared something quite so personal with someone before, especially looking for sympathy and then felt so embarrassed straight afterwards because someone found it so fucking funny. Me and Andy have always been cool. Andy is a fucking legend for lots of reasons. But this is definitely one of my favourites. Not afraid to laugh in my face.


But yeah man, that overwhelming sensation of. This lot think you are a right tit crept over me. I became very self aware again. Would have got all hot and embarrassed. But in typical Chris Davy fashion I was able to shake it off fairly quickly. Maybe I shouldn’t tell people some of these things that happen to me. That definitely is a lesson worth remembering. Because, some people are massive arseholes, and love an opportunity to have a dig and kick you while you are down. Nah, that’s not the right attitude, if you’ve got something to share, share it. If someone wants to ridicule you for it, fuck em. That’s probably the safer option long term.


But, It’s easier sometimes to just keep some shit to yourself and not give people any fuel. Especially if that shit turns out to be about you shitting your bed. But let me get this straight, Andy and my mates were genuine mates. They didn’t make me feel bad about it. It was just me processing it that made me feel bad about it. I guess because when someone laughs at you and someone laughs with you, it’s actually really hard to tell which they are doing.


Anyway, hope you enjoyed this mini story about a time I shit the bed. I’ll tell you one about when I threw up another time.


Don’t forget to wipe!


Who doesn’t love a good quote?


“I’ve been accused of vulgarity. I say that’s bullshit.” - Mel Brooks


Songs to listen to now:


Shit on You - D12

Oh Shit - Buzzcocks

Part & Bullshit - The Notorious B.I.G.

Same old shit - MC Ren

All the shit U do - Super Furry Animals

Shit Happens - Lou Bega

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