ooooh nearly forgot
A few years back when the kids were young (about 3 and 18 months old) they were having a nice bubble bath together.

Sam, the 3 year old starts holding his arms up asking to get out. Mrs insignificantsnivellinglittleturd and I insist that he stays in the bath with his sister.

Cue much arm waving and tears.

Only when we drain the bath and the bubbles subside do we find the cause of the panic.

Lucy had produced legion of malteser sized nuggets that had sunk to the bottom of the bath.

It transpires that Sam had picked one up and eaten it.
( insignificantsnivellinglittleturd I Like Peas, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 16:50, Reply)

One last one.
My younger brother when he was young. He went through a phase where if he was in an argument and lost. Hed simply drop his keggs, turn around and pull a dirty moony.

He would bend over and pull his arse cheeks apart revealing his dirty non wiped orifice for the world to see. It was so shit stained it offended everybody.

He would do this anywhere too. Outside in the street, at home, supermarket etc. Tho my parents gave him a clout for it when he tried doing it to them!
(Miggyman, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 16:37, Reply)

pooey foot
My younger brother is a weirdo, none more so than when he was a kid. There was I, back from school, playing on the spectrum or something when he dances into my room wearing nothing beneath the waist.
After prancing about like a demented extra from Riverdance for a minute or so, he reaches his "grand finale" by leaping into the air and performing a leprechaun kick whilst simultaneously releasing a tommy squeaker. Cue a small turdlet of shet dropping out of his balloon knot and onto the heel of his foot. It sat there like a dirty malteser as he frantically hopped off to the toilet for a clean up whilst I pissed myself laughing.
(mcgriffto, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 16:15, Reply)

After Errorist...
OK, then: how did you discover b3ta? For me, it was that the creationism challenge was linked through Butterfliesandwheels.com. Anyone else?
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 15:59, 49 replies)

play 1 - scene 3
piktur the seen, it is a luvly warm summer eevning and the burds are singing in the sky.
the hero of this storey walks in, richhard says, 'does i not need more than men need?, am i not hooman? if i gets cutt do i not bleed like meer mortalz?
then the sexy bow off this storey takes her dress off. 'let me poop in yer hare richhard, pleese i am beggin yoo!'
'no' sayz richhard. ' i will poop on your boobeez' everyone knows how the hero of this storee likes pooping on peeple.
richhard unrobes hisself and curlz a richhard the thurd out on her boobeez and then beginz to lik it of. 'mmm' sayz richhard, i luv the faecal depozitz on your boobeez.'
(little lord muthafuckin fauntleroy, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 15:48, 3 replies)

Sexy shit
Can anyone here honestly say that they have, in fact, tried scat play at some point during their lifetime?

I've pissed on and been pissed upon, which wasn't bad, but for some reason the idea of someone squatting over me, starfish puckered, crimping off a piece of chocolate cable, would make my hard-on subside faster than margret thatcher having a wank.
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 15:25, 23 replies)

poopywoopy
one time when i was young a pushed a poo back up my bum as it looked angry and started spitting at me, i showed that poop who the boss was, unfortunately the constitution of said poop was insufficient to enable it to stay intact whilst on its reverse journey into the darkness of my anal cavities and i ended up mushing it up with my fingers. this other time i froze a log with a lollipop stick in the end of it and your mother ate it when she was round servicing my older brother. That started your mothers love affair with everything faecal , boy do her eyes light up when you tell her you need a poop
(little lord muthafuckin fauntleroy, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 15:10, Reply)

I'm going
To drop the A-Bomb now, on company time.
Hopefully there'll be a new QOTW when I get back.
A non-shit one.
( Cawl, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 15:03, 9 replies)

Just remembered this one.
Once when camping in Poland, I was at this campsite who'se only toilet was a wooden plank with a hole that you sat on. Underneath the hole was a ditch. The idea was that when you had finished, you burried your 'output'. If the part of the ditch underneath the plank-hole became too full, you'd just move the plank so the hole was over another part of the ditch.

As you'd immagine, this toilet only used trees with loose branches stuffed between them for modesty, and had no water of any kind, so if you wanted to wash your hands, you'd have to find some water elsewhere.

Anyway, on one such occasion when I was looking for somewhere to wash my hands, one of the guys from the camp introduces me to someone who'se just arrived. It was at this point where a handshake is in order, but did not have the heart to tell anyone that all that had separated my hand and my chocolate starfish just moments ago was a flimsy sheet of toilet-paper. Should I mention this and wash my hands and postpone the handshake? Alas, I didn't have the heart to briefly give anyone the impression that I didn't want to shake their hand, so just shook the other person's hand. In my defense, he'd never know where it had just been, and the structural integrity of the toplet-paper had not been compromised, so I just forgot about it and nothing was said.
( mistaspakkaman and the inedible shifting caterpillars, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 14:48, 3 replies)

Does anyone remember those school playground poo ditties?

Diarrhoea,
Diarrhoea,
Comes out your bum, like Pedigree Chum!

Diarrhoea,
Diarrhoea,
Comes out you bum like a bullet from a gun!

Diarrhoea,
Diarrhoea,
Comes out your ass, and it feels like you shat glass!

OK, I'll stop now. But, ever since I started reading this QOTW I have had these fucking rhymes going around my head.
(LadyTramp79 Left a bit, right a bit..., Thu 3 Apr 2008, 14:41, 11 replies)

One of the lads I went to school with...
Was on a trip to France. He had the ability to make himself fart at will. It was at this time, demonstrating it to a group classmates just before bed, that he farted and dropped a small ball of crap down the leg of his boxers as a teacher opened the bedroom door. He swiftly kicked the offending nugget under a bed, and was henceforth known as "winnit" for the rest of his school time, 6th form time, and indeed many years after everyone had left school.
(Rimfeast, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 14:09, 1 reply)

Dr. Who birthday cake
My Mum got me a Dr. Who birthday cake for my birthday yesterday it was in the shape of the TARDIS with the man himself looking out of it.

I'd eaten about three pieces of it in one day leaving the blue marzipan to eat last. The next day I go to drop off some kids at the swimming pool (have a poo). It was green, no messing green like play dough colour. Serves me right for eating the TARDIS then.
(WiggZ, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 14:00, 3 replies)

Hilton Poo incident - and extra embarassment
I have a mate, whom works in interweb porn sites. This means a works do, often has lots of pretty but filthy ladies. Amateurs, exhibitionists and Ho's in equal measure.

One such event was some drinks and a night on the town with 6 lovelies and some male colleagues from similar lines of business.

They went along to the Hilton on Edgeware Road and had a few drinks. Well. Thats where it started to go shit shaped. He felt the need for a small parp, whilst they were all icebreaking over a few drinks on the sofa's. This was not a parp only, he had called his mates and they slipped a load of their wet mates out of choco starfish exit and inside his trousers. He was alarmed and really embarassed - it was a tasty suit, and with business colleagues and chicks.

He wanders off to the gents, where he discovers his boxers were ruined, the suit was in a bad way and the bottom of his shirt had taken a bit of a drubbing.
Most men would have made excuses and waddled home. Oh no, not him. The little boy scout in him spent 45 minutes sorting the suit, and cutting off the bottom of his shirt with nail scissors (he's a bit more metrosexual than most) - ditched the boxers as they were unsalvageable.

He then boldy wanders back, and apologises for the delay "An important phone call came in and had to be dealt with".
The final show of bravado was to then get the next round in. As he turned from where he stood back towards the giggly eye candy and asked "what drink would you all like - Champagne?" He wondered why they all look disgusted with him and were staring at his trousers.

He looked down, and was expecting to see a big stain he had missed and paranoia set in. No shit, but he had left his cock out and it was about 3 inches from the faces of the girls sat on the sofa.

It was only then that he realised the time was iminent to go home. The night had truly ended for him. He bought his round, and walked off to get a cab home.
At least no-one there knew he had shit himself - including his boss.
( bazza van der trance , ooh baby baby, baby baby. Get up on this., Thu 3 Apr 2008, 13:50, 3 replies)

Time for one more?
A friend of mine likes to wipe with a wet wipe when he's finished on the crapper.

Unfortunately, he reached round one time and accidentally grabbed hold of the 'Flash' anti-bacterial wipes instead..

His hoop let him know about it for a few hours afterwards, poor sod!
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 3 Apr 2008, 13:47, 8 replies)

Christmas 2006
Spent with g/f and her family at the country pile in deepest darkest English west country.

G/f hadn't been feeling well before we'd gone down there and I ended up being nurse to her including, on our second night there being awoken by the glorious plea "Edmund, bucket!".

We manage through a dose of anti-poos to get her home after Christmas by which time I'm feeling a bit iffy.

Next day (Wednesday) instead of going to work I lie in bed listening to the radio. Wednesday evening go downstairs and have a cheese toastie.

BAD move. Liquid faeces, and vomiting into the sink. Back to bed.

Thursday morning arrives and surprisingly I'm feeling reasonably chipper. Get up to have a shave and a shower, sit on the toilet - nothing comes out. Get up from toilet and suddenly fall on the floor with ma-hooo-sive pain in my abdomen and I realise that I can't move.

Ambulance arrives and I'm carried downstairs and out to ambulance and thence to hospital. Am given anti-emetic and morphine (pink elephants = ace), followed by a wholly unpleasant PR (proctorectal examination).

In hospital for three days until I can give them a stool sample again (difficult when not eating).

Home on new years eve, back in hospital for a laxative on new years day. Passage (ahem) cleared over the next few days with enough sewer otters to make a beaver consider them for dam building.
(Eds Meds Mathskillz=1,Socialskillz=0, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 13:36, Reply)

Puerile Poo Poetry
Fancy a curry?
Runny poo from vindaloo
Bog roll in the fridge

/coat
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 13:34, 5 replies)

Oh fucking hell....
... it's embarrassing how many shit stories are flooding my mind now.

The same mate who had the mussel incident (whom i lived with at the time) had the shits. Separate occasion, months/years later.

He was in bed, ill, quaffing pepto bismol or whatever and trying to recover.
After a day or so, we were going out and asked him if he was up to it to which he replied he was.
So we're all downstairs (me, another mate and the ill persons gf, now wife) waiting for him.

Down he comes looking pleased as punch, and announces "i can now fart with confidence - i'm all better", at which point he lifted his leg onto the arm of the chair, strained, and shat himself right in front of us - all ceremoniously.

The look of horror on his face was superb. We cried. In fact, i've been crying in the office writing these. I cant tell my colleagues why i'm shaking and crying with laughter either.
"I'm recalling stories about shit". It's not that kind of job.

No apologies for anything. Ever.
(beebolbod for those that are hard of hearing - LISTEN, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 13:25, Reply)

Open the floodgates
Another i've remembered...

A mate (no, really) once bought some frozen mussels. The thought horrifies me, but one morning he was hungry and had nowt left but these frozen mussels at the back of the fridge.

He cooked as instructed, but found some were still frozen.

A little later, following a shower and wrapped only in a towel he shat himself - all down his legs.

He found a whole mussel stuck to his calf.
(beebolbod for those that are hard of hearing - LISTEN, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 13:17, Reply)

Lost shit
I used to work nights many moons ago and part of my routine when arriving home in the morning, after the lady beebobod went to work, i used to skin up, watch telly and relax. usually factor in a wank of course.
One such morning i did the routine and settled down to watch the telly stark bollock naked.

Prior to sitting i could feel a fart so i assumed a sumo position and let rip a big dirty fart and then laid on the sofa and relaxed, in the noood, as is my wont.

About 10 am i started to get tired so i got up, turned off the telly and straightened out the throw which covered our sofa, only to find an immaculate cone of shit, which had somehow evaded my laying down position position and stayed perfectly formed, on the cover.

It looked like one of those little cones of incense.
(beebolbod for those that are hard of hearing - LISTEN, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 13:13, Reply)

I'd like to be able to relate a fantastically brilliant story about poo
but my life in that area seems to be rather boring, although you could describe it as a shit story right now, I guess.

/miserable bitch blog
( Maladicta, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 13:02, Reply)

'Turd' Class Carriage
news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/6089042.stm

Don't know if anyone remembers this guy, but we certainly do. Imagine the horror of walking through a train to be confronted by a scene of abject horror. He'd taken what could only have been a monumental dump, then, using his hands, smeered it over seats, windows, doors.etc. It was even dripping from the light fixings.

The cleaners back at the depot were waiting for me dressed as a CSI fan convention, complete with portable respirators.

Just don't eat or drink anything that's made contact with a train seat...
( HSDriver was probably still at work on, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 12:26, 1 reply)

More tales from China
I went to Hong Kong in 2003 with a couple of friends, one of whom knew someone who already lived out there, and who invited us on a boat trip with some of her buddies.

They'd hired some kind of smallish boat, with a cabin area, and space on the roof for sunbathing, plus a platform at the back for climbing on and off. Food and drink was provided, and it was all set to be a glorious day exploring the coastline near HK. The only negative thing was that we were emphatically told not to shit in the on-board bog, as it was quite a delicate thing. No worries, thought we.

We spent the next few hours diving off the side of the boat into the sea, occasionally coming back into the boat to have another beer, or eat some more dumplings. Until the pilot came and ranted at us for a bit, saying someone had taken a dump, and it had blocked the loo, and now he'd have to flush it away. Fair enough, think we, and dive back in for another bit of swimming.

About 3 minutes after this, small bits of wood starting floating past us. Hang on, they're a bit too round and pebble-shaped to be wood! ...but pebbles can't float...oh no...SHIT! It turns out that when he meant "flush" the loo, the pilot actually meant he was going to open the bottom of the trap, letting the brown bum-slugs swim away to freedom. So now there was a shoal of floating nuggets between us and the boat, and we had to swim our way back to the boat remembering the five D's: dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge. I managed it. My friend though she had, until we pointed out a nugget nestling between her bosoms, in danger of falling down into her costume...she managed to get it out (by leaning over and jiggling it out), and the pilot moved the boat further along the coast, to less infested waters.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 11:15, 9 replies)

Tourettes has reminded me of something
it's a known fact that nicotine stimulates the bowel (or something) and makes it want to evacuate.

I stopped smoking cigarettes some time ago, but still get through more than my fair share of spliffs.

Just the act of starting to skin one up these days gets my guts rumbling in anticpation of a ride on the porcelain bus.
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 11:13, 6 replies)

Cock
I once (way back in mt teenage years)did a massive poo shaped like a perfectly formed cock!..so life like was it in fact, that I called over my dear mamma to in order for her to have a quick shufty..we both gazed over it and marvelled in wonder for a few moments before sending him off to a watery grave. It even had a bell end and everything!!..personally,I blame the hormones..
(misshotlips, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 10:42, 4 replies)

It must be psychosomatic...
Has anyone else found that reading these tales has made them want to poo?

No? Just me then...
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 10:41, 18 replies)

swimming poo
I've done nursing, worked in old folks' homes, care in the community et al. For the last 7 years I've been delighted to work with children on the autistic spectrum as well as other special educational needs. Therefore, the majority of my working days have involved cleaning up other people's crap. Mostly of the literal variety; if there ain't enough of that to go around, one can bet one's BOTTOM dollar there'll be some metaphorical crap with which to be dealt.

Part of the *special* program involves taking the kids swimming, involving sensory stimulation (ooo-er) etc. Sensory perception in autism is a can-and-a-half of worms; suffice it to say, the possibilities involving poo are pretty much endless.

So, once a week, come hail, rain or shine, staff & children board the Sunshine Bus to the local leisure centre. The challenge of getting everyone changed and into the water is eventually achieved, and on immersion the mood is palpably calmer, thus making it all worthwhile.

Except that, on this occasion, one of the lifeguards begins shouting and gesticulating in a most frantic manner. What's wrong with the poor chap - has he seen a shark? Impossible. What then, is the cause of his alarm?

Now, I'm a bit corned beef in one ear (that's geordie rhyming slang for Mutt 'n' Jeff) and the acoustics in swimming pools don't help either. I eventually make out what the lifeguard is no longer shouting, but shrieking hysterically: "EVACUATE!!!"

Is it an air-raid? Bird? Plane? Superman? etc.
At this point my colleagues are rounding up the kids, who are adamant it is NOT time to exit the pool (the routine is exactly 25 minutes in the water - they've only had 5 - that is majorly disruptive to most autistic children).

Having got all of the kids out of the pool (as opposed to dropping them in heh-heh) I am the last person in the water. As usual, the last adult does a recce of the pool, checking for stray goggles, floaters etc. which I was doing. By now, the lifeguard is about to have an aneurism. I hadn't actually heard the reason for said evacuation. I'd assumed (should never assume - it makes an ASS of U and ME) there was a chemical imbalance of some sort; some dick had overdone the chlorine or something.

It transpires that *evacuate* was appropriate. One of the kids had evacuated his bowel in the water. So my sweep for floaters was equally appropriate :o/

I really should look into getting a hearing aid. Not that I could've worn one in the pool....
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 10:39, 9 replies)

Disadvantaged poop
Bit late, but my friend Julia used to work in a home for severely disabled teenagers.

One day one of them said "Julia come here! I've made a present for you". So she went over, and he threw a fresh turd straight into her face.

His best friend was never so rude, but he was eternally self-conscious about a minor problem he had, whereby instead of emerging from his anus, his shits would come straight out of the middle of his stomach. Happy days.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 10:13, 4 replies)

Smelly
cold and stupid bus ride back from the amazon jungle in bolivia via the Death road of Coroico, firstly within
the city limits of Rurre the bus broke down and required all of the
passengers to disembark and help push the relic from the 1940's.
This was to happen five more times including a fun one at 4.30 in
the morning. Fortunately I was awake because the fucking french
twat family in front of me, the family of 4 got on a bus ridden with bags and sleeping kids in the aisles, chickens in boxes and the snoring of poor and tired bolivians trying to make a crust. Their 14 yr old boy decided he needed to
take a dump at 4am so his french whining drifted into my seat directly behind him, soon followed by a farting noise and subsequent stench that awoke the slumbering passengers in the back half of the bus. I decided to peek between the seats and was presented with the following sight. French dad held a plastic bag whilst he squirted the
most vile smelling liquid into the bag and in doing so filled the
entire cabin with his stench. I was directly behind the little cunt
and also had the bonus of sound effects to boot. Then the kicker
was when he had finished he stood up and his dad proceeded to wipe his arse as he complained in gallic, then the cheese eating cunt tied off the stinking, warm bag and placed it under the seat at my feet, the bolivians sharing the back seat looked at one another wondering why this stench act didn't do what everyone else did and ask the driver to stop whilst they evacuated their bowels and finally the dad realized the folly of his ways picked up the bag and turfed its turd liquid into the jungle ranges to pollute another pristine landscape.. Some people should not be allowed on buses methinks. I haven't liked the french since, dirty fuckers...
(neighbour of the beast 668 has watched you in secret on, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 10:11, 1 reply)

Now wash your hands
I have a good friend, and her bloke is a carer for adults with special needs. One of his charges is obsessed with going to the toilet, and always takes an age in the cubicle when they are out.

So one day, my mate’s bloke and his colleague think to themselves “Wonder what he’s doing all that time, think we should have a look”? Agreeing that they should, they enter the next cubicle and peer over the top.

Their charge was busy washing his hands in the bowl, in amongst the shit and piss. Then he rinsed under the rim as it flushed.

He also did a crap in some bushes in full view of everyone once, but I can’t remember the gist of the story…
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 3 Apr 2008, 10:00, Reply)

meloncholic
gah, thursday is near over here in oz and my broadband has been down for 3 days. i'll just squeeze this one out...

if i drink alcohol and eat any sort of melon within a short timeframe, i become violently ill and need to find a bathroom pronto so that my body can volcanically eject the contents of my guts from both ends. the first time it happened was at a party. after hogging the 2nd bathroom for over an hour, my sister drove me home and we had to stop along the way so that my gizzards could do some gastric art all over a building site. i pity the poor buggers who turned up the site the next day to find the little gift i left for them.
(chameleon61, Thu 3 Apr 2008, 9:49, Reply)