A now-defunct website entitled "Poop Report" had many dookie stories which were allegedly truthful. Perhaps the most infamous story on that website was of relatively famous comedian and former host of "Family Feud," Louie Anderson. Although the website is unfortunately gone, I was able to locate a link to an archived version of the Louie Anderson story. The story is reproduced below for your entertainment!
Dave, I know this story sounds made up, but I swear to God this really happened! I could not make up something like this!!
I work in a small hotel
in a medium size town in southern Minnesota. As a front desk employee, I
am forced to deal with poop on a somewhat regular basis. The public
bathroom gets clogged sometimes, and occasionally I have to deliver a
plunger to an embarrassed guest -- thank God most people choose to
plunge their own poo.
A few months ago I was working a shift with my manager, who is
also my mother. She mentioned that Louie Anderson (you know, that guy
from Family Feud and Coming to America) was going to be staying
with us. Apparently he's originally from Minnesota, and was doing his
act at our local VFW. I thought this was slightly unusual, since the
town I live in is fairly unexciting. I asked my mother if I could be
scheduled the morning he was due to check out. I'm not a big fan, but I
wanted to see a real celebrity, just for the hell of it.
That morning I came into work and asked the night shift person if
she'd seen Louie. She said she kept seeing him come and go through the
back door via our surveillance camera. Apparently he returned each time
with a McDonald's bag. I didn't believe her and figured she was making a
joke about Louie's immense size, but she swore up and down that it was
the truth. Determined to see for myself, I called my mother to get
permission to watch the tapes. I explained why, and she told us to wait
-- she wanted to see, too. My mom has a great sense of humor.
The three of us watched the tape from the night before and sure
enough, we spotted Louie not once, not twice, not three times, but FOUR
TIMES -- returning with not just one but SEVERAL Mickey D's bags each
time. We got a big kick out of this, but then basically blew it off.
Eleven o'clock rolled around. Check out time. Louie chose not to
formally check out, but instead just walked out the front door without
saying much. I was slightly disappointed, but it was only Louie Anderson
-- not someone REALLY famous. The night shift person and my mother had
both left the building, so it was just me and the housekeepers. I paged
the head of housekeeping and told them that Room 109 (Louie's room) was
out, and they could clean it.
Soon after, two of the high school-aged housekeepers came to the
front desk with looks of total disgust on their faces. I asked the girls
what was wrong.
Their only reply: "You gotta see this."
I followed them down the hall to Room 109, wondering what Louie
could have possibly done. He was only in there one night. The two young
girls, though, had no clue who had been staying there. One of them
said, "Whoever stayed in that room is a sick fuck."
I was puzzled, wondering what could be so horrible. And when the
door opened, I was almost blown over backwards by the incredible stench.
I covered my nose and bravely entered the suite. I surveyed the
room and saw what was probably the nastiest, dirtiest hotel room I had
ever personally witnessed. (Ours is a small hotel, and we are used to
mostly clean business people and Midwest families on the weekends). The
room was littered with McDonald's bags EVERYWHERE -- on the floor, in
the bathroom, on the couch, on the bed, on the sink and next to the
toilet. Filet-o-Fish boxes covered the floor and the garbage cans; the
housekeepers and I counted twenty-seven of them. The rose-colored couch
had a large brown stain on it. The bed sheets had light streaks of
brown. The toilet was FULL of liquid shit, as was the seat, the rim and
the back of the toilet. Most of the towels were shit-soaked. The bathtub
had various points of splatter.
I was so disgusted -- yet so amused -- that I had to leave the
room and start laughing. The housekeepers thought I was insane. I told
them who had actually stayed in the room, and they giggled a little bit.
I helped the two housekeepers clean the room. We had to put on
full gear, and we practically threw away everything in the room. There
was a pair of white poop-stained Hanes underwear in the bathroom garbage
can. I suppose something like that would sell on Ebay to a die-hard
Louie fan...but I wasn't about to save that stinky undergarment.
I know it sounds incredibly made up, but honest to God, I could NOT make this up.
-- MotelShit
