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(, Sun 1 Apr 2001, 1:00)
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Oh bollocks he's gone again.

(, Tue 10 May 2011, 16:59, 2 replies, latest was 15 years ago)
The musk probably overcame him and he had to retreat to his oxygen tent

(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:00, Reply)
I just looked up space-docking.
Is it actually physically possible to take a dump in someone's snatch or is some internet perv all bark and no bite?
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:03, Reply)
Sometimes it's the only way to get a gay to fuck your sister

(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:04, Reply)
I believe the accepted practice is to freeze one's shit
and use it as a dildo
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:05, Reply)
that sounds like way too much effort

(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:08, Reply)
I have thought about this a little, as well.
The forward planning aspect of it all is more than a little odd in itself (as if sticking a frozen poo up someone is not weird enough on its own) - imagine the thought process...

'I need to defecate - brilliant! I'll do it onto a baking sheet and freeze it, because I've got GERALD, 96, A PROFESSIONAL CHUTNEY-TASTER FROM RICKMANSWORTH coming round tomorrow for some gaylolz'
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:11, Reply)
Speaking of defecation
Does anyone else feel a bit conflicted about it? I mean, on the one hand I know logically that it's a perfectly natural bodily function etc. etc. but on the other I always come away from the loo feeling as if I have somehow dishonoured myself.
Am I alone in thinking this way or do other B3tans share my misgivings?
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:15, Reply)
I like how you post before you think

(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:17, Reply)
It rather depends on how hard you have to strain
There are ways to loosen the exit hole

Apparently
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:19, Reply)
Tee hee, you said 'log'ical.
I have to say I'm not overly keen on being 'at stool'. I too feel a faint feeling of shame and self-revulsion. Personally I like to deal with it by being flogged by prostitutes in the Spitalfields area. It's not for everyone, I grant you, but it certainly works for me.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:20, Reply)
Interesting.
So you heap a large dose of shame upon a smaller one in the hope that they somehow cancel each other out, rather like homeopathy in reverse. Well, any excuse to get gang-flogged by Spitalfield sluts.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:23, Reply)
You and I understand each other perfectly.

(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:35, Reply)
Does your shame
stem, in part, from the fact that your short thighs result in you sitting on the karzi with your feet dangling several inches from the floor?
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:37, Reply)
Not at all.
Unlike men of so-called normal stature I can kick my legs hither and thither on the khazi in the manner of a lesson-weary child.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:41, Reply)
Your posting style is quite delightful.

(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:44, Reply)
Such kind words!
Would you satisfy my curiosity re Bowie. Was it the man, the music or a specific event entailing either that has burdened you with loathing?
I hasten to add that I am largely indifferent to Ziggy.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:50, Reply)
and you'd end up trying to shape it properly
and what if you'd eaten too much curry and it wouldn't hold its shape or you had like those little round poos. Then, waht if you're mum came round and saw it in the freezer and thought it was chocolate?
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:16, Reply)
Jesus, what are the less
widely accepted practices? *wilfully misunderstanding here in the hope of further sick descriptive prose*
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:08, Reply)
There is a slightly more gymnastic, unfrozen version
involving a stepladder
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:10, Reply)
I can't quite...
Perhaps some details might help me visualise?
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:12, Reply)
I was hoping the stepladder reference would put you off
/maritalthighlengthincompatibilitylols
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:16, Reply)
I don't need a stepladder.
Sportscow's pillow advice was spot-on *smugs*
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:20, Reply)
What did you do about the musk in the end?
Since the bleaching didn't work
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:21, Reply)
I think the only way to truly deal with it, is to somehow embrace the musk.

(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:25, Reply)
I've heard careful use of a syringe
and peppermint essence can cure this. An option Happybara appears to have already explored
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:27, Reply)
Hey, that's in my back ...log
The syringe thing was a total non-event. Really. I can't overstate how utterly unerotic it was. They talk about the banality of evil. This was the banality of self-insemination.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:31, Reply)
But it's always good
to work into a conversation
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:32, Reply)
I should make a rule
to only go on B3ta when completely sober. I really should.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:34, Reply)
Rules are made to be broken.

(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:44, Reply)
If only there was some way of bottling it....

(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:28, Reply)
Exactly, Monty!
It's there; It's part of nature's great plan and we should all just jolly well flare our nostrils and take a deep, deep breath.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:29, Reply)
I knew that boy had a use.
He might as well die now, mind you.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:22, Reply)
Well, the musk is still there tbh
But I just believe it to be the natural odour of the healthy female anus in a state of arousal. And it is just musk, not excrement that assails the nostrils. My wife's hygiene is beyond reproach.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:25, Reply)
Is your real ladder still alive?

(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:23, Reply)
Dang
Also, good for you.

Right, the "live action" version of space docking involves a woman with powerful thigh and pelvic muscles so she can keep her gaping flange turned upwards, expectantly, for a prolonged period of time. It helps, of course, if the target area is so well-worked that it resembles some kind of Venus flytrap. The gentleman clambers atop a stepladder (or, for the more adventurous fellow, a pommel horse) and aims blindly for the fanny.

Pre-event meals should not include vindaloos.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:25, Reply)
Wonderful. That's the spirit!
Vivid mental images to titilate.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:32, Reply)
I would complain that it took you seven minutes to respond
but I suppose you only had one hand free
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:33, Reply)
And now my monitor
looks like decorator's radio.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:38, Reply)
Hahahaha
*click*
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:42, Reply)
Oh, is that what it is?
The name doesn't appear to bear much relation to the act. I had half a suspicion there was some form of sexual acrobatics involving hanging from a rope or summat.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:09, Reply)
OH COME OFF IT.
No-one's buying your wide-eyed innocent routine here, Kroners - you dirty fucking Dusseldorf log-meister, you.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:12, Reply)
One freezes one's stool and use it as a kind of organic marital aid, I believe.

(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:06, Reply)
A bad man made me work. Really hard.
It's been awful, dear old Monty, but it's over now.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:01, Reply)
How simply ghastly.
I prescribe a large breandeh to settle your nerves.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:07, Reply)
Well, I'm swigging Stella and
popping diazepam, which is helping. Goodness me though. How anyone can work eight-hour days for 48 weeks in any given year is beyond me. I feel quite distressed and febrile.
(, Tue 10 May 2011, 17:11, Reply)

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