I once had explosive diarrhoea
in the bin cupboard of a block of council flats round the back of Old Street station. It was about 7:15am, an emergency pit (or more appropriately 'shit') stop on my way to work. I had to spend the rest of day 'commando' as I had to use my boxers as lavatory paper.

So if anyone on here happens to be the janitor there, I'm sorry. It looked like a fucking war zone when I was through.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Wed 16 Dec 2009, 14:29, 3 replies, latest was 16 years ago)

Brilliant

(Bazongaloid, Wed 16 Dec 2009, 14:30, Reply)

I was no more than 5 seconds away
from crapping myself - and there was about 3 pints of it.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Wed 16 Dec 2009, 14:34, Reply)

It's always bad news..
...wWhen you measure your tummy-rubbish by the pint rather than the length/girth.
(Tugnut Ex of this parish, Wed 16 Dec 2009, 14:46, Reply)

Not good times,
were you better afterwords?
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Wed 16 Dec 2009, 14:32, Reply)

Immeasurably so.

( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Wed 16 Dec 2009, 14:37, Reply)

Good Christ alive on a bike.
That is epic.
(ConanTroutman thought we would free the vulture, Wed 16 Dec 2009, 14:33, Reply)