The woman, the legend: P.I.B.
This is the tale of the woman, the legend that is P.I.B.

Although I didn’t live in this crusty student abode, my ex did. At a University which held the title of ‘The Ultimate Party School’, they set up the ‘Ultimate Party House’. At the helm was a young man we called Shaggy. Shaggy liked women of all shapes, sizes and concoctions of Butterfaces, thus earning his well-deserved moniker.

After a particularly heaving party in the first week of classes, he took a fancy to a gloriously drunk young first-year maiden. Keen to show her about 3 minutes of a good time, he led her back to his room. As they got down to the slippery business at hand, she proceeded to chunder all down the side of his bed. Being the gentleman that he was, he kicked her out to the hallway outside of the bathroom.

When all the housemates woke up in the morning to shovel and bulldoze the house free of filth, her absence was noted.

In her place, mere feet from the toilet, was a box of sheets. Nested atop the linens was a large and foul coiled turd. This woman was, from that point forward, known as Poop-in-the-Box.

Which was shouted at her for the next four years until she graduated.
(TheSnark oh, c'mon, like you didn't see me coming, Thu 26 Feb 2009, 19:44, 1 reply)

p. i. b. are my initials...
...but i'm pretty sure this isn't me.

but there's a 1/(26^3) chance of those being my initials so it could be coincidence
(CannedLaughter, Mon 2 Mar 2009, 23:53, closed)