Most disastrous road trip ever
Way back in 1997ish, I was driving from Leicester to Nottingham for a weekend of debauchery. Having woken up early but hungover on the Saturday morning I threw a few things in my bag, jumped into my knackered but trusty VW Polo and headed out towards the M1, which I joined at J21a.

Somewhere just past J22 my rebellious stomach (still suffering from the lager avalanche it had encountered the previous evening) began to grumble and I let go a few noxious and deadly farts. So vile were these emanations that I had to wind down the window a bit lest my lit cigarette turn the car into a blazing fireball of doom, but fate had worse in store for me that bleak morning. As I braced myself for yet another expulsion I realised something was terribly wrong and instead of a fragrant air biscuit my arse decided to eject about half a pint of shit soup into my pants. Yes, it's a follow-through story.

I did a quick mental check and realised that of all the items that I'd thrown into my bag that morning, none were a clean pair of pants and I'd just gone past the only services between here and J25. That was not a pleasant journey.

Once I hit Nottingham I managed to locate a Marks and Spencer, did the cowboy walk through their underwear department, no doubt stinking of shit, and cleaned myself up in a public toilet. The rest of the weekend was fine, but I couldn't help restraining a little from the revelries my friends enjoyed with abandon for fear of awakening my unholy arse again.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Mon 18 Jul 2011, 10:26, 1 reply)

I'd hardly call the half hour drive from Leicester to Nottingham a road trip.

Still, poo related shame is always hilarious, have a click.
(Rob.S, Mon 18 Jul 2011, 10:50, closed)