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This is a question Personal Hygiene

There comes a point at which your hygiene becomes less your problem and more everyone else's:

My old school nurse never seemed to wash - instead she wrapped herself in crepe bandages from the first aid kits. The smell was beyond pungent. If you got ill at school, it was better to suffer than try and explain symptoms whilst only breathing out.

When she was eventually 'let go',they had to strip the wallpaper in her office to get rid of the lingering odour.

How scuzzy have you got? Or, failing that, how bad have people you know got?

(, Thu 22 Mar 2007, 12:40)
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This question is now closed.

You know every school has a smelly kid?
Well ours was called Helen and nicknamed, unkindly yet aptly Smelly Ellen. She really did smell an awful lot and was quite fat too, she was picked on all the time. Because of that she was very sulky and unkind too, lairy and snappy.

Anyway, we had a really naughty kid in our class (we were about 8/9 at this point) called Ian that our teacher couldn't handle and Smelly Ellen was in the other class of our year, the teachers swapped Ian and Helen over and before we got her in our class our teacher had a word with us all about being nice to her, commenting when she changed her clothes or had a bath etc.

She settled in fairly well, with punishments being really harsh if caught bullying her she was being left alone which meant she came out of herself a bit and had been actually smiling.

So, when it was coming up xmas time our teacher sent Helen out on a fake errand and told us that for Christmas we were going to have a 'pretend' raffle and we were all to bring in 50p for it, with that money the teacher bought a wash bag, flannel, toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, hairbrush, deodorant and hair accessories. The raffle was pretend because Helen was going to win it, and it was all wrapped up like a christmas present.

Raffle day arrives, Helen wins, she was really pleased, and I mean REALLY pleased, school closes for xmas holidays.

After the holidays we were all curious to what Helen would look like clean and tidy, imagine our disappointment when she turns up just the same, skanky as ever :(

When we got into class our teacher delicatly asked Helen if she'd liked the raffle prize, Helen said yes thank you, it was lovely...she gave it to her mum as a christmas present!

Oh well, they tried, couldn't get away with that now though. Still see her around sometimes and yes, she still smells.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 21:38, Reply)
my first year at uni
like evryone elses is a void in the mind caused by a chemical fug that surrounds the whole era. However two memories that stick out are the state that the halls got in.

Now the occupants of these particular halls were only ment to be there for two weeks. seeing as 9 months wasent sufficent time for a horde of degenerate missfits/stoners/alcoholics/sloths/all of the above to fill in an A4 form on where you indended to stay in your first year. The uni stuck us all under one roof in order to give us some where to live whilst we found somewhere to stay. Now this wasent the best arrangement for a tidy place.

my two memories are the cleaning crew going on strike after SIX days, citing sticky floors in bathrooms and kitchins, decomposing rubbish/vomit/beer cans everywhere, hot rock burns on evry soft furnishing (WTF who smokes whilst standing over curtains), piles of filthy plates in the girls rooms, and half the kithen applineces thrown out of the windows except the toaster as it was needed to light ciggarttes.

secondly no one doing the washing up for days as someone threw up over a full sink. When someone finaly did wash up they complained about the person who left "chunky soup" in the sink. Thats right every last intact peice of crokery was washed in chunder.

thank fuck I lived off take aways.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 20:53, Reply)
My ex..........
I had a boyfriend who will remain anon many moons ago. A few months passed and he came round to my house and was introduced to the mother. My mum was sat outside in the garden and a good 2 metres away from him. After he left she informed me he'd smelt so bad, she felt like he was sat right next to her and they were in a small enclosed room. Needless to say I too noticed he smelt after that, I must have got used to the odour and within a week he was politely told to have a bath and to get lost.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 20:33, Reply)
Me: morning *flatmate's name*, is that a wet penny in your pocket perchance?


this from the man who gladly admmitted to shitting himself in school, secondary school and who pissed on the floor of his room beacuse 25 feet is too far to walk to the toilet.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 20:26, Reply)
My teeth...
While being clean and shiney, have been victim to the orthodontist of DOOM.

In my early teens I was subjected to the ritual of teeth pulling and being reffered to a nice lady to get my braces. Quite cheerful but something I did not look forwards to.

While mutilating my mouth with wires and tiny elastic bands, she happily proded about in my gob with long fingernails under which lay miles of gunk. I repeat, gunk.

And as she was doing this happily chatted away to my mum spraying spit *in my mouth*.

So glad was I to finish with my braces.

Until a year later they all decide I needed them again.

(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 19:46, Reply)
Mmmmm, Crusty balls
I remember when I was about fourteen and my personal hygene was somewhat clouded by the effects of alcohol. Young, suave, good lookin', that was me.

Anyway, I partook in a rather sordid act with a local young lady of this parish. A few hours later, the crown jewels began to itch a bit but being the trooper I am I just scratched my arse, belched and thought nothing of it and as is usual during the post-coital route for the male of the species I rolled over and went to sleep (after farting loudly and making the customary joke about it being the dog).

In the morning my poor scrotum was welded into a solid crusty lump.

I never did work out what the hell happened but I spent the next two weeks picking crusty flakes off until the old boy was back to his normal self.

At least 10 hail Mary's for that one.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 19:42, Reply)
I spent yesterday evening cleaning up my lodger's diarrhoea splashes that were all over my lovely new toilet seat. The seat is now stained blue (bleach colour). I can't even threaten him with a bad reference, as I've already given him his marching orders. Bad reference = never getting rid of the cnut.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 19:39, Reply)
A few people
Not me, thankfully.. Ok, I tend to get a little whiffey after work (I work in a room with no airconditioning and a lot of computers, so it gets a little stuffy), but I do at least shower when I get home.

One of my old students used to have a hygene problem. He stank of ammonia (badly enough that talking to him for two minutes left me with streaming eyes). Now, I know that that smell has been linked with Diabetes, but he could have at least tried to do something about it. It could also have something to do with wearing the same suit every day for 3 years.

One of my old college lecturers also had a bit of a problem. She insisted on wearing biker's leathers indoors (these get sweaty anyway), and didn't ever seem to wash.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 18:54, Reply)
Once on a night out in Hull...
Many moons ago I found myself in the Tower nightclub in Hull. I got very merrily drunk on the £1 bottles of something purple.

A couple of hours later I went to the loo, the kind of ones where your feet squelch as you walk in, and proceeded to empty all the contents of my stomach into the toilet.

'Cept I missed toilet and ended up covering my legs and shoes. In purple vomit.

Tights came off and went in the bin and gave my shoes a quick wipe. I was ready for another drink at this point and went straight back to the bar. Where the lad I had been chatting to all night had bought me another purple drink.

You would never have even noticed, the club was that grim - I actually felt better for it.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 18:50, Reply)
My sister...
often leaves used sanitary towels on her floor for poor unsuspecting people to step on...grim.

That is all. I'm occasionally grotty...but I think everyone is.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 18:21, Reply)
Oh, sick in the sink. Lovely.
When I was living in Hungary, I found the bathroom washbasin blocked with muesli. Not being familiar with the processes of bulimia, I thought, Hungarian plumbing yah! and sorted it out and forgot about it.

Long, long afterwards, I found out that my non-bulimic flatmate had the same experience, but as she knew all about post-prandial barfies she threatened our stick-insect flatmate with death if she ever puked in the sink again.

Hungarian bog pans have those little shelves in, so you can inspect what you've 'laid' before flushing. I bet bulimics LOVE that.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 18:01, Reply)
are you making bread honey?
Years back when I still used to chase hippy girls, was seeing a particular counter-cultural lady who really was hugely multi-talented in the old challenged personal hygiene malarkey. hairy pits/ legs I could live with seeing as how she had never shaved so was quite soft and downy, stinky vegan farts could also be managed with some incense and the opening of windows, but it was the yeast infection from hell that really challenged me.
I shit you not, she produced enough of this substance* to keep those fine bakers hovis' loafs nice and fluffeh for years. She had my sympathies of course, but it was the lack of any attempt to get it treated that really tried my patience.
Still, problem was solved when she decided to cop off with some flakey so-called 'alternative therapist' she had met down the pub while I was at home making her a nice birthday dinner...meh

So, in a rare act of revenge Lisa/Sakia/
whatever the fuck you call yourself now I hope you get to read this x x (unlikely as b3ta doesn't feature the sort of turgid crap that impressionable pretend hippies like to read)
ah, that feels better.

*most medical descriptions compare the discharge to ricotta cheese, but it can range from thick and not clumpy to faintly yellow to thin and clear.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 17:40, Reply)
Stanky mouthed bastard
I'm a student and have to catch the fudging bus every morning...pretty much. I remember the time i was on the bus with a friend, coming back from town. We're just sitting there chatting when all of a sudden, on staggers this weird looking cnut who sits infront of us, but we think nothing of it. A few minutes pass and some lads behind us were laughing, and the one shouted something to the fruitcake in front. He turns round and says something back and the smell was so overpowering. It was like he'd been doing drugs ever since he was born...revolting smell.

Another one on the bus, and this loud assed family gets on the bus. You know when you see a woman with a pram and think "Who the funk would get that pregnant?" then see the bloke and go "Oh right..."? Yeh,one of them...So yeh,i still don't get this one. I don't think it was anything to do with breath,i'm not sure. All i remember, is every 2 minutes or so, it smelt like someone was cooking poo. I didn't understand...they had a few toddlers,but no oven. One of the worst smells i've ever encountered....
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 17:15, Reply)
Smelly Stalkey Mc'Emo
He's got a smell you can whiff from a clear mile. As you would expect, he is a little bit of an exile from college yet continues to go and smell the place up, as you do.

Sometimes the odour is so overpowering that it forces some people to yell "SOAP! BUY ONE GET ONE FREE" at the top of their lungs, in the middle of a town centre as a sign of protest from their noses. Another popular catchphrase amongst the group, obviously, is "It's called soap!". This is where the 'Smelly' in the nickname comes from.

Not only does he offend everyone around him without even communicating, he offends the folk even more when he does. 3 people i know (2 of which i have/have had relations with, but thats a tangent)have been the target of his stalky-ness. This includes a mixture of phonecalls and text messages . I sure hope fear this may lead to a beating from some dissatisfied parties

And to round off, on the final point. He reeks. So he has few (no?) friends. Of course he's an emo!

And thus, Smelly Stalkey Mc'Emo is born.

Length? could be anything with the lack of washing....

Blue ;-)
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 17:07, Reply)
Paul the Loose Bowelled
Ahh, Paul the Loose Bowelled; the shitting stories are endless. There's the time he shat himself in Greenwich park in broad day light after a simple afternoon's drinking. There's the time he didn't quite making it back to his flat in time and shat himself in the street whilst wearing shorts. Again, in broad daylight. There's the time he stepped into the kitchen freshly showered with n'er but a towel round his waist, farted and followed through all over the floor. There's even the time he shat the bed with his girlfriend in it. But my personal favourite is when he bowed out early on an evening's session due to being paralytic. When we got back to his flat we found him passed out on the floor, jeans and underwear round his ankles and a skid mark two feet long on the carpet. Whether the skiddy was created in the confusion of the initial drunken rush to the bog or when staggering back and passing out on the return journey has never been firmly established.

A truely skanky individual. And that's without discussing the STDs
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 16:53, Reply)
lady face hair
A post further down reminded me of a girl I know. She's a nice enough girl - polite, well turned out (especially for someone who's a little...shapely) but when I was talking to her in the pub a while back I noticed a big old mole on her cheek that had about four or five thick hairs coming out of it. Each of these hairs was a good centimetre long, if not more, but for some reason she'd declined to pluck them. In the end it was all I could think about and had to end the conversation cos I knew that I'd start randomly saying "mole" a la Uncle Buck. It's all in the details girls...
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 16:14, Reply)
We had a chap in our office that STANK of BO. Worse than that though, he half stank of Lynx as well, trying to cover up his BO problem.

One or the other please ffs!
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 16:11, Reply)
linux conference
no more needs to be said....
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 16:09, Reply)
Oral hygene
At a computer fair in Blackbird Leys I saw a stall holder whose teeth were covered in greenish fur, rather like moss. What little of the teeth could be seen beneath was a brown colour.His breath stank like an open sewer.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 15:32, Reply)
The Original Shit-Stain
There was a bloke who used to work at our place, who can only be described as a total minger. It was bad enough that he’d fallen out of several ugly trees, but his personal hygiene was a total disgrace.

We affectionately christened him “Shit-Stain” as soon as he started on account of a permanent mark down his chin that looked just like a smear of turd. He wore the same clothes day in day out; a hideous body warmer that we suspected to be once orange in colour. We tried to discover this fact by putting it through the industrial Tray Wash machine – it looked the same when it came out.

He came in one day looking particular grotty; apparently he was cycling to work, needed to vomit, so let loose as he was peddling: the resultant splash-back not only caught him squarely in the face, but covered the despicable orangey body warmer.

He used to steal food that he’d find in the bins; usually out of date liver, cooked ham or mince, which he’d hide under the frigging tray wash machine of all places. Inevitably this would half cook his hidden stash so it was ripe with nastiness (as if it wasn’t already). Nonetheless, he’d take it home to scoff.

On lunch breaks he ate yoghurts with mould on the top; simply scraping away the offending layer of crustiness. None of the other lads would sit in the canteen if he was there, rather than being subjected to the hideous stench, they elected to eat their meals outside – whatever the weather.

His house was also a shit pit; motorbike in pieces in the bath, rabbits with free reign around the place, pissy mattresses on the bedroom floors etc… – he actually told one of the lads that while eating meals at home, the rabbits would leap up & help themselves to stuff from his plate. The mind doth boggle.

Anyway, complaints were duly thrown in at work & he was called into the office on many occasions, eventually being dismissed for being a smelly flea ridden scum bag.

Seven years on and his legacy remains; the legend of Shit-Stain.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 14:22, Reply)
My mate Phil (cont'd)
Phil has recounted several tales of building site wrongess which I'll attempt describe for your reading pleasure.

A new chap starts on site and quickly starts annoying people, always a dangerous thing to do. By the end of the week they're so fed up with him that they wait until he disappears into the portaloo clutching his copy of the Daily Sport whereupon they go into full Jackass mode and tip the fetid Turd-Tardis on it's side. The shocked chap exits the kharzy rather sheepishly stained in a funny blue/brown colour which remains until the end of the (hot and sticky July) working day. By close of play he's reeking sufficiently badly for no-one to want him in their van so the effluent attired unfortunate is forced to walk five miles home, humming all the way.

One other chap specializes in "Hooping" his victims, ie waiting until they are otherwise engaged on the phone or eating lunch before dropping trousers, bending over and creeping up on them arse first. Being the master of stealth, he'll try and get his arse as close as possible to someone before alerting them at the last second so they get a faceful of stinking builder's ring. His proudest achievement resulted in a nine inch skid placed down the back of someone's white T shirt.

The final escapade is rather graphic so excuse me if I slip into builder vernacular. A chap is handing out Opal Fruits which are declined all round until one gulliable sort takes a sweet and puts it in his mouth, but his suspicions are aroused when he notices that everyone is wincing at him. "What? What the fuck's up?" enquired the chap.

Turned out that the Opal Fruit had been placed in a builder's bum before being carefully resealed in it's wrapper.

"You fucking dirty cunt!" screams the victim, who promptly plots revenge and the next day pisses in the half full milk bottle of his tormentor.

Naturally the prankster is none to impressed to be on the receiving end and hatches the most devious and nasty of plots. The next evening he returns home and engages in coitus with his wife who was in a rather delicate time of the month. This last detail was essential to the revenge, declining a shower the next morning, our site prankster turns up at the site portakabin and smears his ripe knob all over the inside of his victim's tea mug.

"Fahkkin 'ell, anyone checked the fahkin' milk today? I fink it's gone orf. My tea dunnarf smell cheesy"

I'm told the ensuing punch up took five people to subdue.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 14:15, Reply)
Double Whammy
Ah, puke stories. Once, my mate puked up in a B&B sink, which had a really small bin next to it. The sink was blocked, so he scooped it out with his hands and dropped it into the bin. We didn't inform any of our mates until the next morning, when one of our other mates washed his face in the same sink.

Also, I once went on a night out when I was 17 and got absolutely wrecked. The next morning, my mum drove me to work after I'd had a bowl of Sugar Puffs. I can't tell you how disgusting it was to look at the sick I made down the side of her car. When I rolled the window back up, there were quite a few Sugar Puffs stuck to the window. It took me a while before I could eat them again (not the ones on the car window, obviously), and I didn't make it to work.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 13:53, Reply)
My maths teacher
needs to shave her face

not really unhygienic, but why should i be forced to look at lttle wisps of hair on her chin whenever she comes near me?
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 13:51, Reply)
Being sick out of a car II
A friend of mine was also sick out the car window as i was driving past a lorry, all was good and vomit was flying out the window, admittedly all down the car but thats what car washes are for.

Until i passed the lorry and the wind changed direction, blowing vomit back into the car. The girl in the back (who i was trying to pull) got covered, i got covered, the seats got covered. I was feckin fuming, swung the car over three lanes onto the hard shoulder, swung my door open, stormed round, swung his door open, and would have swung for him.

Except his face was covered in a mask of sick, with just 2 eyeholes visible, he had long jesus hair as well so that was a matted mess of carrot chunks. Well i just pissed myself, though not as much as when we got to Leeds and took him into the new flag ship Ted Baker store to get some new clothes for the night out.

You know how stuck up sales people can be in designer shops, well considering my mate shops at Millets (outdoor / camping store) anyway, and was covered in sick, they nearly chased us out the store til they realised there wash cash to be made.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 13:20, Reply)
Baby Sick
I'm fortunate in that I always noticed baby sick on me

A former colleague - name witheld - never seemed to

He'd come in, looking like he hadn't slept for about 2 years (he hadn't) and down his back/shoulder/all over he was perpetually covered in baby vomit.

Once or twice - fine - but every feckin' day???

The smell was, well, unpleasant. I moved desks to the other side of the room, even though I sat 3 desks away from him already.

And he was a right whine-y bastard.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 12:19, Reply)
Being sick out of a car
Another one was I was driving up the motorway early one morning following a friend's truck who was towing a racecar back from a circuit. His girlfriend was driving because he'd had a heavy night on the booze.

All of a sudden he leaned out of the window and threw up into the slipstream. It went all down the side of the truck and all over the racecar. It took him a long time to live that one down.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 12:15, Reply)
curtains...nets etc.
with the already mentioned sally anne, I bought a gaff in/nr portsmuff (not real name) some twenty yrs ago, the old folks selling it thought we were a 'nice young couple' and left us their curtains-i split with the non muff washer some 2 yrs later, but visiting there last year(& she still lives there)she had the same curtains in place....non curtain washer all round then.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 12:14, Reply)
Ive just remembered that I went out wearing a hoodie with toothpaste on it yesterday (as well as being slightly stinky -see previous post), the shame is I actually noticed it before I went outand decided not to change it.

But i guess it shows that I brush my teeth. Although toothpaste stains are quite a regular occurance on my clothes, often I don't notice until I'm outside. I do get the occassional food mark on my clothes though but not often.

My boyfriend on the other hand use to have a long sleeved white top that had a bean juice mark on the end of the sleeve that he refused to throw away. Then there was the white £30 FCUK top he bought, that first time he wore he decided to get a curry, yes within a couple of hours of wearing his new top, he'd managed to ruin it with curry!
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 12:11, Reply)
A great story about sick
When I was still living with my parents, my whole family had gone away for a couple of weeks leaving me on my own in the house.
I was to film a friends wedding.

Unfortunately the previous night I had drunk a bottle of vodka with friends, I was so drunk. I vaguely remember being sick on the floor of my bedroom during the night. When I woke up I was seriously late so I left the sick there on the floor. I left it there for a full week and just slept in another room.

Shortly before my parents came back from holiday I simply ran the vacuum cleaner over it and the carpet was clean, if not a little stained. They were none the wiser.

The same week I had a nosebleed - I blew out as much as I could all over the shower walls and left it there. I invited my friends round to see what looked like a murder scene.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 12:10, Reply)
Another guy at work
The last post below reminded me of another unsavoury creature in our office.

He too has some hideous skin complaint which leads to large flakes being left all over the place. He must use some kind of industrial strength medication as well which seems to reek from his every pore.

The worse thing about him is if you visit the cubicles in the gents - you can always tell if he's been in by the huge flakes all over the floor, the seat, the bog roll holder - you name it. Eek! Reverse! Next cubicle!

He lives on one of the main roads into town. Now I'm no Lawrence Llewelyn-Bowen, but I do know that net curtains went out with the ark. Particularly ones that are about 30 years old, and in a shade of minging grey from having never been washed. Barf.
(, Wed 28 Mar 2007, 12:04, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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