[Fudge]

I took a shit outside Berwick train station at 6am, wiped my arse with my boxers and disposed of them on a path in a park.

[Gaz]

A few months ago I had had a night on the cider. As many will testify a cider shite is the most vile smelling thing on the planet. Anyway, I was halfway through this cider shite when I could hear a rumbling in my belly the other way.

I had to hold in my shite, get off the pan, kneel down and be sick into the already putrid mess. The vomit caused some spray to come back up and hit me in the face, which of course made me sick even more.

After I had finished spewing, I had to finish my shite before I could wash my face and get in the shower.

A truly horrible experience.

[FC_1919]

I've done the old being sick have dioreha at the same time, not the best!

[Fudge]

That's the best post ever, made funnier still because when I read it I can hear you narrate it in your Yorkshire accent

[TWS]

Tatty Boabie, on Mar 26 2008, 01:15, said:

It is important at this point that I mention that I was On-Call at work that particular day. Just after giving birth to a ten pound otter in my trousers, my pager went off, with one of my mental health patients threatening to kill himself.

Brilliant.

[McMuffin]

Tatty Boabie, on Mar 26 2008, 01:15, said:

I have just shit in my pants, and am now faced with a life and death situation with a very unstable mental health patient who lived in Livingston.

Fucking tremendous.

[kiwififer]

Once sharted on the edge of the ex's bed lol!

Can't beat a good crap first thing...

[Half A Person]

Tatty Boabie, on Mar 26 2008, 01:15, said:

My story is less than salubrious.

On a lovely sumer's day out with my then girlfriend to a garden centre just outside Falkirk, where we had enjoyed a lovely homecooked lunch, we proceeded to the outside bit of the garden centre to purchase plants and pots.

Unfortunately, my metabolism was working far too quickly that day, and as we stepped outside I had the urge to break wind. It was noisy enough and outdoors, so I decided to let it rip, only to be horrified that it wasn't wind, it was the real stuff.

It is important at this point that I mention that I was On-Call at work that particular day. Just after giving birth to a ten pound otter in my trousers, my pager went off, with one of my mental health patients threatening to kill himself.

Imagine the scenario :

I have just shit in my pants, and am now faced with a life and death situation with a very unstable mental health patient who lived in Livingston.

I said to the patient, "Give me an hour", I then had to explain to my girlfriend what had happened, including that I had shit my pants, and needed to go home to change and then she would have to drive me to Livingston to perhaps save somebody's life.

I sat sideways in the car on the way back to my home in Linlithgow, but by the time I had got back I had set.

It was like concrete. I had to chisel off my jeans and underwear, and use metal soap pads to clean my arse.

The story had a happy ending, I cleaned all the shit off myself, my girlfriend was laughing too much to finish with me, and the mental health patient lived, despite cutting his stomach open and having to go to hospital.

Nightmare.

Brilliant.

''I sat sideways in the car on the way back to my home in Linlithgow, but by the time I had got back I had set.''

[Monster]

Tatty Boabie, on Mar 26 2008, 01:15, said:

It is important at this point that I mention that I was On-Call at work that particular day. Just after giving birth to a ten pound otter in my trousers, my pager went off, with one of my mental health patients threatening to kill himself.

Imagine the scenario :

I have just shit in my pants, and am now faced with a life and death situation with a very unstable mental health patient who lived in Livingston.

I said to the patient, "Give me an hour", I then had to explain to my girlfriend what had happened, including that I had shit my pants, and needed to go home to change and then she would have to drive me to Livingston to perhaps save somebody's life.

I sat sideways in the car on the way back to my home in Linlithgow, but by the time I had got back I had set.
It was like concrete. I had to chisel off my jeans and underwear, and use metal soap pads to clean my arse.

Magnificent.

[Bring Back Paddy Flannery]

Tatty Boabie, on Mar 26 2008, 01:15, said:

My story is less than salubrious.

On a lovely sumer's day out with my then girlfriend to a garden centre just outside Falkirk, where we had enjoyed a lovely homecooked lunch, we proceeded to the outside bit of the garden centre to purchase plants and pots.

Unfortunately, my metabolism was working far too quickly that day, and as we stepped outside I had the urge to break wind. It was noisy enough and outdoors, so I decided to let it rip, only to be horrified that it wasn't wind, it was the real stuff.

It is important at this point that I mention that I was On-Call at work that particular day. Just after giving birth to a ten pound otter in my trousers, my pager went off, with one of my mental health patients threatening to kill himself.

Imagine the scenario :

I have just shit in my pants, and am now faced with a life and death situation with a very unstable mental health patient who lived in Livingston.

I said to the patient, "Give me an hour", I then had to explain to my girlfriend what had happened, including that I had shit my pants, and needed to go home to change and then she would have to drive me to Livingston to perhaps save somebody's life.

I sat sideways in the car on the way back to my home in Linlithgow, but by the time I had got back I had set.

It was like concrete. I had to chisel off my jeans and underwear, and use metal soap pads to clean my arse.

The story had a happy ending, I cleaned all the shit off myself, my girlfriend was laughing too much to finish with me, and the mental health patient lived, despite cutting his stomach open and having to go to hospital.

Nightmare.

so it was an actual proper solid log?

i mean everyone has followed through with some brown grease, but it's very rare to hear of a solid when it comes to following through.

you must be proud

[KnightswoodBear]

I very nearly shit myself laughing at Tatty's story!

[Dirty Sanchez]

I was in a hill walking party of about twenty people in North Glen Sannox,Arran a few years ago.

I was finding that I had been getting dehydrated easily,so before we left the accommodation that morning I tanned as much water as I could drink.

I don't know what the link is,but I can only assume that the copious amounts of water were what made very suddenly desperate for a shite,while we were out in the field,miles from anywhere.

It didn't come on gradually. One minute I didn't need a shite,but the next minute my arse was bursting.
We had split into pairs and were all walking upstream alongside the river that runs down the valley.

I explained my situation to my partner then bolted away to try and find somewhere concealed to leave my deposit.

The topography dictated that if I'd shat on the grass somewhere I'd probably have been a squatting silhouette on the horizon for somebody,so I concluded that shitting on the edge of the stream was the only option. The water was about ankle deep there,and I was hidden by the bank.

Despite feeling very vulnerable exposing my arse in an area that was infested by ticks (not to mention other hill walkers) I relieved myself of the shite which,as it happens,was quite a substantial log.

I was just reflecting on how handy it was that I'd be able to wipe my arse with the stream water when,to my horror,I realised that the shite was floating away.

This hadn't occurred to me. I wasn't initially intending to shit in the stream,and I was desperate,so I hadn't looked at the possibilty that it might float away.

Of course,the problem was that our entire party were downstream of me.
We're not talking about a very wide stream here. If you were walking beside the stream,and a large shite floated past,there's no doubt you would spot it.

If only I'd been a skilled primitive fisherman,I could have chased the shite downstream and speared it from the riverbank.

In the end,with my trousers around my knees and the floating shite starting to gather pace in its bid to escape,I had no option but to wade forward,grab it with my hand and guide it back to safety.
I then buried it under a pile of rocks in the stream.

On the next trip we went on I barely managed a shite all week. I can only assume this was some kind of psychological reaction to the trauma I'd suffered in Arran.

[Seanaldinho]

@ Tatty Boabie and Dirty Sanchez's posts!

[seaside nipper]

Well quite simply , my mate got so drunk one birthday Friday night he ended up three way incontinent !

After being dragged home totally legless and barely capable of breathing , he saved his output for his own home as all good drunks do.

Started to spew all over the hall walls , lovely , he swayed fell backwards and started yelling toilet and clawing at his breeks ! He'd started a megga case of the runs. Some blokes dragged him to the bog , balanced and supported him on the bog whereupon he started to evacuate his bowels , horrendous cascade of brown liquid exploding everywhere in the pan , on the floor, across my feet.........ffsake ! His download was so voluminous he overloaded the bog !

Having lost all power of speech he would grunt and moan unintelligibly about a sore stomach.

At this point his wife walked in, having been woken by strange voices and noises from the lavvie at 3am !!

She immediately freeked , started crying ,screaming and yelling, she shreiked she was leaving him and she was going to kill us all for getting him in that state . At this point my mate pished himself !

So , my mate was left on the pan , vomit rolling down his chin , sitting in a world of shit , soaked in pish.

Got a taxi home , the driver suggested I cover him twenty notes to allow him to clean his cab. Next day the lads met up , was advised that my mates wife had left for her mums for a few days , so we all went on the razz and left the poor sod to supervise the Industrial Cleaners at his house.

He still cannot face Southern Comfort to this day - he is happily married with three kids , all toilet trained

[Darren]

After hours of sitting around doing nothing horribly hungover my flatmate and I decided it was about time we got up and did something. So up we got and headed across to Scotmid, on the elusive hunt for reduced goods and perhaps a Pot Noodle if it took our fancy.

While hanging around the baked beans (ironically enough) I felt the urge to do a massive fart. It was a feeling I had experienced many times before. Instinctively I knew this was going to be a very loud, and potentially extremely smelly emission.

With this in mind, and knowing the unbridled joy that making a scene of a pungent parp in a small grocery store can generate, I reeled back, cocked my leg like a pissing dog and pushed, all the while calling on my mate to witness the spectacular passing.

Sadly, I was to quickly learn some valuable lessons. Never force a fart, and don't call on witnesses if you're about to commit a heinous crime.

Within a nanosecond, I could tell something had gone wrong and my face conveyed that emotion. Quick-thinking, I held my muscles tight and caught the shart mid-flow in the chute.

Having managed not to completely shit my pants, I proceeded to amble from almost the very back of the store to the front door. From there to the flat was thankfully a very short distance, and on the groundfloor.

However, I had to first negotiate a busy main road. Sweating profusely and looking like Alan McLaren after 90 minutes, I managed to waddle, John Wayne style, across the road, circumventing traffic as I went.

I made my way into the house, tossed the jeans and boxers aside and sat down on the pan and let it all flow free.

This unbridled joy lasted all of about five seconds, before all three of my flatmates burst into the lavatory and the one who had been in Scotmid exclaimed "Hahaha, you shat yourself!" before rolling about the hall floor laughing.

By no means is this my most shameful story. I loved that fucking flat!

[kara_hibee]

Anyone else got any other storys they could squeeze in?

[Michael W]

Asides from the odd dose of the runs, or even blocking the toilet with the odd footer, I don't really have anything to share. I feel left out

[renton]

kara_hibee, on Mar 26 2008, 14:02, said:

Anyone else got any other storys they could squeeze in?

What? Was that a joke? Fucking harry krishnas for you! Fucking terrible effort....

[King Kebab]

kara_hibee, on Mar 26 2008, 14:02, said:

Anyone else got any other storys they could squeeze in?

Or even "Squeeze out"!!!

[kara_hibee]

renton, on Mar 26 2008, 14:11, said:

What? Was that a joke? Fucking harry krishnas for you! Fucking terrible effort....

Attached File(s)

•  bullshit.jpg (27.32K)
  Number of downloads: 10

[renton]

kara_hibee, on Mar 26 2008, 14:19, said:

Like, whateveeer

Fucking teeniebopper