A Sunderland fan allegedly pulled his trousers down and had poo during the home match with Reading - causing at least one fan to vomit.
Black Cats supporters took to a Sunderland fan forum after the match to reveal details of the incident, which is said to have taken place at the Stadium of Light during the defeat.
Writing online, one fan explained how the man sat in the South Stand suddenly jumped to his feet and dropped his trousers.
The supporter continued: "he squatted and curled one out".
As fans sat near the man noticed what was happening, they began to move away from the area.
The supporter is then said to have pulled his trousers up as stewards escorted him out of the ground.
One fan, reciting what happened, added: "A bairn (slang for a child) in the row in front saw the s*** and started gagging before spewing into our row!"
Really didnt want to use this thread today seeing I was meant to start my new job this morning.
Last night had a dodgy watery shit so knew something was up which was made worse this morning when I had another with no solids and no control - Decided I had to risk the trip into London today regardless so not to set a bad impression, knew it would be a risk as would need about 2-hrs between incidents to last the train journey.
Just as I left Abbey Wood I knew it was an impossible task and knew I had to get off at Woolwich Arsenal, sadly the train crawled into the Station which did the damage... Made it to the toilet yet couldnt get my trousers down in time as felt my bowels loosen as I partly shit my pants, finally got the trousers down as the rest started to arrive, briefly catching the back just before I managed to sit down.
Finished up and walked back out to get the next train yet knew I wouldnt last again and quickly got back off and retreated back to the toilet for Part Two (thankfully didnt shite myself this time).
Realised I couldnt get into work without needing another shit so decided to retreat back home... Frustratingly I've not needed to go for two hours now so could have made it in although glad I didnt else Id have been forced to explain the brown patches on the back of my trousers!!
Apologies to anyone desperate to use the cubicle in the Woolwich Arsenal toilets - that toilet is going to take some unblocking the amount of paper I had to use
What about the job? Have you rung in and explained what happened?
A Sunderland fan allegedly pulled his trousers down and had poo during the home match with Reading - causing at least one fan to vomit.
Black Cats supporters took to a Sunderland fan forum after the match to reveal details of the incident, which is said to have taken place at the Stadium of Light during the defeat.
Writing online, one fan explained how the man sat in the South Stand suddenly jumped to his feet and dropped his trousers.
The supporter continued: "he squatted and curled one out".
As fans sat near the man noticed what was happening, they began to move away from the area.
The supporter is then said to have pulled his trousers up as stewards escorted him out of the ground.
One fan, reciting what happened, added: "A bairn (slang for a child) in the row in front saw the s*** and started gagging before spewing into our row!"
Really didnt want to use this thread today seeing I was meant to start my new job this morning.
Last night had a dodgy watery shit so knew something was up which was made worse this morning when I had another with no solids and no control - Decided I had to risk the trip into London today regardless so not to set a bad impression, knew it would be a risk as would need about 2-hrs between incidents to last the train journey.
Just as I left Abbey Wood I knew it was an impossible task and knew I had to get off at Woolwich Arsenal, sadly the train crawled into the Station which did the damage... Made it to the toilet yet couldnt get my trousers down in time as felt my bowels loosen as I partly shit my pants, finally got the trousers down as the rest started to arrive, briefly catching the back just before I managed to sit down.
Finished up and walked back out to get the next train yet knew I wouldnt last again and quickly got back off and retreated back to the toilet for Part Two (thankfully didnt shite myself this time).
Realised I couldnt get into work without needing another shit so decided to retreat back home... Frustratingly I've not needed to go for two hours now so could have made it in although glad I didnt else Id have been forced to explain the brown patches on the back of my trousers!!
Apologies to anyone desperate to use the cubicle in the Woolwich Arsenal toilets - that toilet is going to take some unblocking the amount of paper I had to use
Lucky you didn't get that job in Dartford.
With no stops on the fast line, you (and the rest of the carriage) would have really been in trouble.
Really didnt want to use this thread today seeing I was meant to start my new job this morning.
Last night had a dodgy watery shit so knew something was up which was made worse this morning when I had another with no solids and no control - Decided I had to risk the trip into London today regardless so not to set a bad impression, knew it would be a risk as would need about 2-hrs between incidents to last the train journey.
Just as I left Abbey Wood I knew it was an impossible task and knew I had to get off at Woolwich Arsenal, sadly the train crawled into the Station which did the damage... Made it to the toilet yet couldnt get my trousers down in time as felt my bowels loosen as I partly shit my pants, finally got the trousers down as the rest started to arrive, briefly catching the back just before I managed to sit down.
Finished up and walked back out to get the next train yet knew I wouldnt last again and quickly got back off and retreated back to the toilet for Part Two (thankfully didnt shite myself this time).
Realised I couldnt get into work without needing another shit so decided to retreat back home... Frustratingly I've not needed to go for two hours now so could have made it in although glad I didnt else Id have been forced to explain the brown patches on the back of my trousers!!
Apologies to anyone desperate to use the cubicle in the Woolwich Arsenal toilets - that toilet is going to take some unblocking the amount of paper I had to use
Dont worry mate, wait for a few months time getting covered in shit will be the norm.
I remember 2 years ago me and Kelly were heading back from Margate on the train for 20 minutes and Toby shat everywhere, nothinh we could do other than wait till we got to orpington by which time it had leaked onto my trousers and shoes onto kellys legs and shoes
Really didnt want to use this thread today seeing I was meant to start my new job this morning.
Last night had a dodgy watery shit so knew something was up which was made worse this morning when I had another with no solids and no control - Decided I had to risk the trip into London today regardless so not to set a bad impression, knew it would be a risk as would need about 2-hrs between incidents to last the train journey.
Just as I left Abbey Wood I knew it was an impossible task and knew I had to get off at Woolwich Arsenal, sadly the train crawled into the Station which did the damage... Made it to the toilet yet couldnt get my trousers down in time as felt my bowels loosen as I partly shit my pants, finally got the trousers down as the rest started to arrive, briefly catching the back just before I managed to sit down.
Finished up and walked back out to get the next train yet knew I wouldnt last again and quickly got back off and retreated back to the toilet for Part Two (thankfully didnt shite myself this time).
Realised I couldnt get into work without needing another shit so decided to retreat back home... Frustratingly I've not needed to go for two hours now so could have made it in although glad I didnt else Id have been forced to explain the brown patches on the back of my trousers!!
Apologies to anyone desperate to use the cubicle in the Woolwich Arsenal toilets - that toilet is going to take some unblocking the amount of paper I had to use
heading back from Margate on the train for 20 minutes and Toby shat everywhere, nothinh we could do other than wait till we got to orpington by which time it had leaked onto my trousers and shoes onto kellys legs and shoes
Bet Toby hasn't been invited to anymore stag do's since
A few years back, the morning after the departments Xmas drinks, I was in urgent need of a dump. In the bottom of the toilet bowl was a pair of somebodies spectacles. Not really wanting to shit on them I tried to flush them away but that didn't work. We only had one toilet cubicle and I was sweating by this time so I figured that a big poo and a large quantity of paper would take the glasses down, so I did the deed. To my amazement after the flush the glasses were still there. Not wanting people to know I've knowingly had a dump on someone glasses I decided, with a combination of bog brush handle and yards of bog paper, to fish them out. After a really, really good scrub of my hands I went into the office and told everyone there I've found a pair of glasses on the floor of the toilets. Right on queue one of my colleagues walks in and asks as anyone seen his glasses as he cant remember taking them home last night. he was ever so pleased for me to hand them to him. It was hard to look him in the eyes and not laugh whenever I saw him with his glasses on.
Many years ago my young son shouted downstairs for me to come up quickly.
When I arrived in the bathroom, the smell was abhorrent.
Both ignoring the odour bomb that had detonated, he pointed down the pan and when I looked in, laying at the bottom was a perfectly formed semi circle at the top with a downward pointing short straight length protruding from one side. That must have been the end of the first session.
An inch underneath was a round pebble shape of shit, clearly produced from the second act.
He had created the perfect question mark.
Unfortunately, he never did get to perform on the televised part of Britain's Got Talent.
Various times I've been caught short on a golf course & had to take a dump in the bushes, One time I had to go by the side of the A45 just outside Coventry. My car had broken down on the way to one of our games there & I was in desperate need - good job there was a bit of a ravine with plenty of bushes otherwise the hard shoulder may have been the only option.
The house I used to share with had a saniflo bog in the upstairs bathroom. Had a session in the local at work and the next morning had to run to the bathroom and as the downstairs loo was too far away to drop the kids off in time I used the top bathroom. Forgot about the fact that the saniflo bog can’t handle the amount of tissue required to clean my mess and promptly blocked the thing as it tried to churn up the load. Something burst and projectile shot out from the leak at a fair old pace and I got covered in my own mess. Took hours to clean it up and to top it off a brown stain appeared in the living room wall.
Jesus Christ - after the afternoon I have had, this thread was the first thing to come to mind. Along with wondering if I will ever regain control of my sphincter.
Walking to a meeting with a colleague this afternoon and all seemed fine and well with the world. That’s until I walked round the corner onto the road where the clients office is and my stomach cramped, the tell tale bubbles moving in a downward direction, and the rapid realisation that I was in dire need of the biggest evacuation since the Titanic hit that berg.
My colleague looked at me in consternation as I bent over double; I am relatively new in the company so haven’t yet reached the poo comfort zone. As such I made up the most bollox excuse ever - stating I had just come over a bit faint.
As he came over in concern and suggested I sit down for a while, he then looked even more confused as I slapped him out the way before sprinting at breakneck speed back towards the sanctuary of the bogs at Kings Cross station 5 mins walk back. At this point I had a build up of liquid shit so extreme, I had enough thrust stored up to make me the first man on mars this side of Christmas.
So I legged it and haven’t spoken to him since.
Of course the last thing on my mind was getting my 30p ready, so when I came storming in hot to the gents and the old lady at the gate asked for my 30p - I fucked that request right off by barrel rolling over the top of the gates (accidentally kicking off a kids glasses from his head as he was coming back through he other way).
I am pretty sure it was at that moment that the first dribble came out but thank fuck there was a spare cubicle.
I charged in to it with my belt buckle already coming undone - and the faint awareness that the kids father was coming after me questioning why I had almost taken his son out by going all Andy McNab on my way in.
Think they were soon left in no doubt as to my predicament as I flew onto the khazi and launched an eruption that would have resembled Vesuvius had Willy Wonka turned it into an extension of his wonderful chocolate factory.
And as if it couldn’t get any worse, the door hadn’t locked in my rush. As I sat sweating and convulsed over the bog- the door swung slowly outward (it was the disabled cubicle) to reveal a pissed dad, son with glasses cracked, tutting cleaner.
Oh and a guy in a wheelchair asking if I would be long.
Just the time for my poorly arse to squelch a secondary shitty fart into the pan.
(1) Bet the "colleague" was the fit bird you were hoping to get off with at the pub tomorrow night... and... (2) Regardless if they're male or female, good luck thinking up the excuse for what happened at work tomorrow
I’m not gonna be at work tomorrow at this rate - did a relay from Kings Cross bogs to Waterloo bogs for another dose of brown water.
Then my arse was going 5p 50p all the way home on the train.
Now going to hole up at home until I stop pissing out my arse.
I think I’m actually ill. And I need to take the karcher pressure washer to my arse cheeks tomorrow as they are in danger of crusting together at this rate
Jesus Christ - after the afternoon I have had, this thread was the first thing to come to mind. Along with wondering if I will ever regain control of my sphincter.
Walking to a meeting with a colleague this afternoon and all seemed fine and well with the world. That’s until I walked round the corner onto the road where the clients office is and my stomach cramped, the tell tale bubbles moving in a downward direction, and the rapid realisation that I was in dire need of the biggest evacuation since the Titanic hit that berg.
My colleague looked at me in consternation as I bent over double; I am relatively new in the company so haven’t yet reached the poo comfort zone. As such I made up the most bollox excuse ever - stating I had just come over a bit faint.
As he came over in concern and suggested I sit down for a while, he then looked even more confused as I slapped him out the way before sprinting at breakneck speed back towards the sanctuary of the bogs at Kings Cross station 5 mins walk back. At this point I had a build up of liquid shit so extreme, I had enough thrust stored up to make me the first man on mars this side of Christmas.
So I legged it and haven’t spoken to him since.
Of course the last thing on my mind was getting my 30p ready, so when I came storming in hot to the gents and the old lady at the gate asked for my 30p - I fucked that request right off by barrel rolling over the top of the gates (accidentally kicking off a kids glasses from his head as he was coming back through he other way).
I am pretty sure it was at that moment that the first dribble came out but thank fuck there was a spare cubicle.
I charged in to it with my belt buckle already coming undone - and the faint awareness that the kids father was coming after me questioning why I had almost taken his son out by going all Andy McNab on my way in.
Think they were soon left in no doubt as to my predicament as I flew onto the khazi and launched an eruption that would have resembled Vesuvius had Willy Wonka turned it into an extension of his wonderful chocolate factory.
And as if it couldn’t get any worse, the door hadn’t locked in my rush. As I sat sweating and convulsed over the bog- the door swung slowly outward (it was the disabled cubicle) to reveal a pissed dad, son with glasses cracked, tutting cleaner.
Oh and a guy in a wheelchair asking if I would be long.
Just the time for my poorly arse to squelch a secondary shitty fart into the pan.
I’m not gonna be at work tomorrow at this rate - did a relay from Kings Cross bogs to Waterloo bogs for another dose of brown water.
Then my arse was going 5p 50p all the way home on the train.
Now going to hole up at home until I stop pissing out my arse.
I think I’m actually ill. And I need to take the karcher pressure washer to my arse cheeks tomorrow as they are in danger of crusting together at this rate
God speed to you
The human body is capable of removing every single shred of dignity possible
Reminds me of the time a friend of mine shit his pants at Green Park tube. Nothing he could do, he got the 4 minute warning on a stationary tube train, said he was in need, and I knew there was nothing he could do. We got off the train, hoping a kindly member of staff would magic up a shitter there and then, we only made it a couple of steps off the train and he couldn't hold back the storm. Shat there and then. He bailed out, I carried on after he made me promise not to tell anyone of the group we were meeting. This was before smartphones and what'sapp so I didn't tell anyone..... Until I met them face to face.
Not sure what aspect of the Tesco stir fry meal deal was to blame, if indeed it was that at all - wife feels fine. But I had a bit of cramping. I asked her if she had finished in the bathroom. She needed to brush her teeth. Fine.
I swear she was in there brushing them for ten minutes. I was pacing up and down the stairs, circling the living room like Groucho Marx, trying everything to distract myself. I could feel the urge to push, like a fireman barging on the door of my balloon knot. I was getting desperate... I was actually considering a shit in the garden, or maybe physically trying to hold back the tide with a hastily assembled wodge of kitchen roll.
When thay door opened I ran up the stairs, followed by the smoke from a twenty guff salute. I'm not joking, I've never hit such a fluid (spookily accurate choice of words) drop trousers, sit down, empty guts and courtesy flush). Less than a second I reckon.
Whilst I'm little more than a human skin suit draped across the bowl right now, I can rarely think of times I've been happier.
So i am guessing that the story of what happened at the Tim Horton’s coffee shop in Langley, near Vancouver, earlier this week hasnt reached the UK
I’ve been sent, on WhatsApp at least 8 times by different mates/ wanky chat groups , a video of an outraged woman having a dump in a coffee shop and picking it up and lobbing it at staff. I think because , as a serial pooooooer , it’s one of my specialist subjects
Comments
A Sunderland fan allegedly pulled his trousers down and had poo during the home match with Reading - causing at least one fan to vomit.
Black Cats supporters took to a Sunderland fan forum after the match to reveal details of the incident, which is said to have taken place at the Stadium of Light during the defeat.
Writing online, one fan explained how the man sat in the South Stand suddenly jumped to his feet and dropped his trousers.
The supporter continued: "he squatted and curled one out".
As fans sat near the man noticed what was happening, they began to move away from the area.
The supporter is then said to have pulled his trousers up as stewards escorted him out of the ground.
One fan, reciting what happened, added: "A bairn (slang for a child) in the row in front saw the s*** and started gagging before spewing into our row!"
http://www.mirror.co.uk/sport/football/news/sunderland-fan-causes-fans-vomit-11631862
Have you rung in and explained what happened?
http://www.mirror.co.uk/sport/football/news/police-respond-rumours-sunderland-fan-11636446?service=responsive
With no stops on the fast line, you (and the rest of the carriage) would have really been in trouble.
I remember 2 years ago me and Kelly were heading back from Margate on the train for 20 minutes and Toby shat everywhere, nothinh we could do other than wait till we got to orpington by which time it had leaked onto my trousers and shoes onto kellys legs and shoes
When I arrived in the bathroom, the smell was abhorrent.
Both ignoring the odour bomb that had detonated, he pointed down the pan and when I looked in, laying at the bottom was a perfectly formed semi circle at the top with a downward pointing short straight length protruding from one side. That must have been the end of the first session.
An inch underneath was a round pebble shape of shit, clearly produced from the second act.
He had created the perfect question mark.
Unfortunately, he never did get to perform on the televised part of Britain's Got Talent.
http://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/crime/drug-suspect-toilet-strike-lamarr-chambers-essex-police-a8226201.html
Walking to a meeting with a colleague this afternoon and all seemed fine and well with the world. That’s until I walked round the corner onto the road where the clients office is and my stomach cramped, the tell tale bubbles moving in a downward direction, and the rapid realisation that I was in dire need of the biggest evacuation since the Titanic hit that berg.
My colleague looked at me in consternation as I bent over double; I am relatively new in the company so haven’t yet reached the poo comfort zone. As such I made up the most bollox excuse ever - stating I had just come over a bit faint.
As he came over in concern and suggested I sit down for a while, he then looked even more confused as I slapped him out the way before sprinting at breakneck speed back towards the sanctuary of the bogs at Kings Cross station 5 mins walk back. At this point I had a build up of liquid shit so extreme, I had enough thrust stored up to make me the first man on mars this side of Christmas.
So I legged it and haven’t spoken to him since.
Of course the last thing on my mind was getting my 30p ready, so when I came storming in hot to the gents and the old lady at the gate asked for my 30p - I fucked that request right off by barrel rolling over the top of the gates (accidentally kicking off a kids glasses from his head as he was coming back through he other way).
I am pretty sure it was at that moment that the first dribble came out but thank fuck there was a spare cubicle.
I charged in to it with my belt buckle already coming undone - and the faint awareness that the kids father was coming after me questioning why I had almost taken his son out by going all Andy McNab on my way in.
Think they were soon left in no doubt as to my predicament as I flew onto the khazi and launched an eruption that would have resembled Vesuvius had Willy Wonka turned it into an extension of his wonderful chocolate factory.
And as if it couldn’t get any worse, the door hadn’t locked in my rush. As I sat sweating and convulsed over the bog- the door swung slowly outward (it was the disabled cubicle) to reveal a pissed dad, son with glasses cracked, tutting cleaner.
Oh and a guy in a wheelchair asking if I would be long.
Just the time for my poorly arse to squelch a secondary shitty fart into the pan.
(2) Regardless if they're male or female, good luck thinking up the excuse for what happened at work tomorrow
Then my arse was going 5p 50p all the way home on the train.
Now going to hole up at home until I stop pissing out my arse.
I think I’m actually ill. And I need to take the karcher pressure washer to my arse cheeks tomorrow as they are in danger of crusting together at this rate
The human body is capable of removing every single shred of dignity possible
Reminds me of the time a friend of mine shit his pants at Green Park tube. Nothing he could do, he got the 4 minute warning on a stationary tube train, said he was in need, and I knew there was nothing he could do. We got off the train, hoping a kindly member of staff would magic up a shitter there and then, we only made it a couple of steps off the train and he couldn't hold back the storm. Shat there and then. He bailed out, I carried on after he made me promise not to tell anyone of the group we were meeting. This was before smartphones and what'sapp so I didn't tell anyone..... Until I met them face to face.
http://www.dailymotion.com/cdn/manifest/video/x4qbi3v.m3u8?auth=1523582423-2690-z1ilbebk-664e41bd89941a0a024866b81290cbb6
I swear she was in there brushing them for ten minutes. I was pacing up and down the stairs, circling the living room like Groucho Marx, trying everything to distract myself. I could feel the urge to push, like a fireman barging on the door of my balloon knot. I was getting desperate... I was actually considering a shit in the garden, or maybe physically trying to hold back the tide with a hastily assembled wodge of kitchen roll.
When thay door opened I ran up the stairs, followed by the smoke from a twenty guff salute. I'm not joking, I've never hit such a fluid (spookily accurate choice of words) drop trousers, sit down, empty guts and courtesy flush). Less than a second I reckon.
Whilst I'm little more than a human skin suit draped across the bowl right now, I can rarely think of times I've been happier.
I think because , as a serial pooooooer , it’s one of my specialist subjects