Phantom Dumper
I had a very boozy night out with some mates, and met up with a couple of girls who stayed over at mine with us. I did the gentlemanly thing by letting them stay in my bed, whilst I wasn't in it, without even vaguely pestering them to play hide the sausage with me.

Next morning we get up. Hungover to the point of being the critical list. All of us. I go to the bathroom and see shitty fingerprints on the wall by the bog. Evidence of someone in distress gripping for purchase. I found these smears rather disturbing. No one admits to them.

The girls leave, commenting that the flat smells of shit. Not the best impression. I have no sense of smell having imbibed all of the world's evils on the previous night. I set my friends on the task of locating the offending area.

Eventually we found it. A large black liquid dump on top of a bin bag by the front door of my flat.

Drunk and incoherent one of my mates had got up in the night, not found the bog, squatted and shat on a bin bag full of rubbish in my hall *then* realised what a mess he was in, staggered to and located the toilet, smeared shit up the walls, attempted to sort himself out and eventually returned to bed.

Neither of my mates admitted to it, but we had our suspicions. It was black and practically had a head on it, and one guy had been drinking guinness all night immediately after flying home from LA. The last thing I saw of him that night was him sat on the bed, vomiting into my favourite mug.

Instead of dragging admissions out of people, we did the honourable thing and we all dealt with it, in the manner a Hollywood moview where college kids commit some terrible murder and swear to never speak of it again.

Oops.
( SpunkyBackpack, Fri 7 May 2004, 13:15, Reply)