Unfortunate timing
I'm suffering from a nasty sinus infection. This means I am endowed with the ability to produce seemingly-endless quantities of thick, sticky mucus. I usually relieve myself of the wretched burden with the standard "snort, spit" method in the (concealed) office sink to avoid clogging up my nasal airways with the vile contents of my sinuses.

Yes, it's delightful.

Anyway, there I was today standing at the urinal at work, taking a piss. I could feel the pressure building in my facial tissue and no-one else was around, so I figured I could save time by doing two things at once.

I snorted back with a demonic grunt and ended up with a mouthful of the slimiest snot imaginable. It felt like I’d stuffed an entire, body-temperature jelly into my mouth and I very nearly boked.

I quickly turned my head down and spat the revolting mess towards the drain hole…

…and missed.

Fortunately, my still-pissing cock broke the fall of the oral ectoplasm. I was repulsed by this unholy union of my favourite appendage and my least favourite bodily fluid, so I tried to wipe it off my trusty chieftain. The slimy resin wouldn’t budge owing to it having the consistency of the glue used to stick CDs to magazines, so, thinking quickly, I decided to use my own piss as a makeshift solvent. About the same time I started ‘cleaning’ myself, a colleague wandered in to the toilet and joined me at the adjacent urinal… aaarrrgghhh!

As I struggled to maintain my composure, the slimy entity began slithering towards the end of my old chap, then, at the last moment, it held fast to my japseye. A long, shimmering, stretchy mass just hanging there, swinging freely from the end of my todger. It looked exactly like an apocalyptic ejaculation of happy man-gravy.

My colleague began chatting as I tried to remain calm in the face of this extraordinarily unfortunate turn of events. With an enthusiastic shake of the trouser truncheon, I managed to chuck the majority of the appalling translucent sludge into the urinal and it fell into the drain. However, a long, stringy tentacle of goo flicked back, still tethered to the tip of my nether-cyclops. It slapped into the full length of my shrivelled pride and stuck there, like the devil’s own racing stripe.

At this point, I had to give up. To my neighbour, I probably appeared to be just standing there, admiring my own undercarriage. The stream of piss had long since expired, so I could no longer justify standing at the urinal. I stuffed the soiled beast back into my undercrackers and made my way to the sink to begin cleaning my piss-soaked hands with a routine that would have put most OCD-sufferers to shame.

My colleague eventually left the toilet with me still scrubbing away. At the first opportunity as the door closed behind him, I dashed to a cubicle and proceeded to wipe myself off properly. When I returned to the office, my gaze met his and I got the feeling that he may have seen my filthy ordeal and drawn his own conclusions. I’m not sure if I should explain what actually happened. The thought of him trying to deal with the alternative explanation makes me quite amused.

So… that was my unfortunate sequence of events. What about you?
( chart cat has an itch, Fri 1 Aug 2008, 15:22, 5 replies, latest was 16 years ago)

I know clicking is pointless
but I did it anyway for the laugh you gave me. Nice one.

Will add colleague in the jacks story momentarily...



aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand here it is:

www.justramit.co.uk/forum/viewtopic.php?t=7882
(bazmorningstar efil4nat3b, Fri 1 Aug 2008, 15:29, Reply)

@baz
Great story! :-)
( chart cat has an itch, Fri 1 Aug 2008, 15:38, Reply)

@CC - thanks!
Haven't seen Ted for a while. Wonder if he's dead.
(bazmorningstar efil4nat3b, Fri 1 Aug 2008, 15:56, Reply)

Hey CC

Your story (nicely told btw) reminded me of an episode in my dim and distant past...[wavy lines]

I was 19 and at college in Bournemouth doing a catering degree. I fitted in like middle-aged hells angel would, in the chorus line for Swan Lake. The only thing keeping me sane was a decent bunch of mates doing 'combined studies' degrees. We formed the oh-so-amusingly-ironic-and-oxymoronic Anarchists' Society, which basically meant we met at the Students' Union and didn't like the rugger-buggers. One drunken night someone actually played some Punk tracks at the usual Friday night bash so a young, drunken Che started to 'show them how the real Punks pogo'. Apart from receiving shoves and light punches from all of the other patrons as I smashed into them on the beer-slippery floor, I also released a very large greeny from my sinuses and snorted it into my mouth, then, choosing the moment carefully, I leapt ceilingwards and spat the exceedingly offensive article at the polystyrene tiled ceiling and was hugely pleased to see it stick and then form into a long thread of goo hanging a good four or five inches from the ceiling.

The next day it was still hanging there to my huge delight and the admiration of my Anarchist pals.

By the end of term IT WAS STILL THERE, but now dried up into a kinked thread of solid snot.

I failed the first year, but was glad that there was a little piece of Che that I was able to leave behind.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Fri 1 Aug 2008, 16:01, Reply)

@Che
Yay for stalagtites made from snot! This could end up becoming quite a disgusting thread at this rate...
( chart cat has an itch, Fri 1 Aug 2008, 17:47, Reply)