Dude, I have shit the tent, twice. One was due to giardia. The other, I will briefly summarize:
I was at hood with some good homies for a summer shred, and it had been raining all week. We had been compensating with copious amounts of drinking, unhealthy amounts of drinking. During that week, we literally skied twice. Needless to say, we were perpetually hung over and slightly distressed about driving halfway across the continent to continent for binging in wet campground. So this continues for the entire week, and on our last night there, we hit it hard. Really fucking hard. Liquor, beer bongs, all the things that 19 year old gets get excited about. Blackout ensues. Like complete and utter blackout. Not a single person remembers going to bed. All we know is waking up in the morning to my friend mike yelling "EVAN, WHY DID YOU SHIT IN THE TENT." I woke up to that chuckling, until I used my nose, and I realized that yes, upon lifting my head, I was staring at a giant, literally giant pile of dookie in my parents nice 8 man tent, and there was a giant hole ripped in the side of the tent to boot. Like this was a man sized shit, and in our drunkenness, we all were so confused that we legitimately believed that some sort of forest creature had ripped in and laid one. I hopped in Evan's car to go get cell service, and I tentitively called my dad to tell him the story, adding in that we might have to "burn the tent down." The answer to that was no, and so basically we burned all the cloths with feces on them and packed up the tent, skipped our last day of skiing, and drove home in disaray. To this day, we don't know whether it was myself or the one and only Eheath, but I have unofficially taken credit. And that is my abridged poo story.
