I was flying through the night in a London taxi
back to Camberwell, where I lived at the time. Half way home I am desperate for a crap and the feeling is just getting worse and worse.

I direct the cab about 75m past my flat where there is a superloo as there is no way I am getting up four flights of stairs without crapping myself.

As I am paying for the taxi I cannot control myself any longer and release 5 litres of hot, black diarhoea into my pants and trousers. I manage to get to the superloo, rather straight legged, and go in and finish my dirty business. Then I discover that there is no toilet paper, so I can't wipe or attempt to clean myself up.

I stagger back to my flat COVERED. I get into the bathroom and get this gear off and hose it and me down. Much better.

In the morning my flat mate informs me he is going to the dry cleaners and asks me if I have anything....."Just this suit".
(Set your faces to Stunned Bigly, Mon 25 Jun 2012, 15:24, 1 reply, 13 years ago)

jelly.b3ta.com/questions/matron/post660624?highlight=answers-post-660685
( Peej, Mon 25 Jun 2012, 15:29, Reply)

NHS butchers.

(Set your faces to Stunned Bigly, Mon 25 Jun 2012, 15:48, Reply)