c-hunty!
As a youngster, we used to bathe in the river of wrongness surrounding a youngster by the name of hunty. He was a fiery haired fellow, from a nearby school, who had done a wrong deed whilst partaking in a primary school youth-hostelling visit. The story goes thus...It was a youth-hostel with an outdoor shitter, it was the last night of said visit, and hunty wakes up and needs to go...and when needs must, what does a young boy do? Upon the realisation that he was the only one awake in the dorm of 6 boys, he feared for his safety, and decided to try and wake one of the other boys to escort him to the shitter. This plan was flawed, he was unable to rouse any of his classmates from their sleep. Gripped by pure fear, he decided to do the unthinkable. Grabbing his parka from the hook in the corner,and lying in on the floor next to his bed, he proceeds to curl one out into the sleeve, and use a dirty sock to wipe himself. When the deed was done, he left the parka on the floor, ready for the mornings departure. Relieved, in more sense than one, young hunty tucked himself back into bed and nodded off. Early the following morning the boys in awoke to a hideous stench, after all it was summer, and each gets ready anxiously awaiting the inspection by the teacher before leaving. He is also greeted by this unholy stench, but must have obviously passed it off as a "scent of the countryside." It was only when the boys grabbed their coats to leave that the truth reared its ugly head. The lads picked up their bags and were putting thier coats on, when it dawned on huntster that he'd shit in the wrong coat in error. The was little he could do, but watch in horror as his friend discovered the lump of shit in the sleeve of his coat, in front of his fellow classmates and teacher. Apparently he cried like a baby! Needless to say, hunty was most unpopular,and i bet parents' evening was a bit special! 12 years on that story still follows him around, like the stench of a ripe shit in the sleeve of your parka!
(madamebonsoir, Fri 7 May 2004, 23:18, Reply)

I have too many poo stories!!
This is possibly an urbal myth but one of my friend's friends had persuaded his girlfriend to give him his brown wings (heehee). All was well until he got home and noticed a swelling under his foreskin.

Twas a kernal of sweetcorn!
(Bunnygirl, Fri 7 May 2004, 23:09, Reply)

Terminology
Thanks to the 3 year old son of a colleague of mine, I now refer to painful bowel movements as a "crocodile poo."

Because they are bitey, he explained!
(Rompy, Fri 7 May 2004, 23:03, Reply)

Floating Bumnuggets
Sorry for the length of this but I thought it was amusing (not at the time).

I was sharing a hotel in Santa Cruz with three women. Who all used to bog for far too long in the morning. So me having the mother of all turtle armarda's off my port bowel decided i had to burst in to have a crap.

Anyway twas a bit of a shit but there was no bogpaper. So i decided to use kitchen towels. Just my luck to have the mother of all klingons. So after profuse amounts of kitchen paper - mission accomplished.

Now being it was an american bog - it had a very small hole for bog paper to go down (and tons of water). By this point I have one of the three women banging on the door. So I flush and wait for it to go. But the bog keeps filling up with water - more water - more water. By this point the knocking on the door is louder (need to get in the bog).

And it was just shortly after the last knock that the bog started to overflow - spilling numerous arsebiscuits onto the floor. I won't tell u the rest. But I am sure there is a pissed off hotel janitor somewhere :D

Sorry for the length....

Dave
(davidpike, Fri 7 May 2004, 23:01, Reply)

I was in school
with a bloke who was one of the nicest people you could meet but there were all manner of disgusting tales going round about him (all of which were true). The best poo one was when he was out shopping with his mum in a large department store. Desperate and miles away from the nearest loo he jumped in the lift. Realising he wouldn't make it, he squatted and left little pressie. Luckily for him the doors didn't open while he was doing the deed. He then legged it back to his mum, but later on couldn't resist going back to pay the poo a visit. It was covered in ants apparently. And that is why I never did go out with him.
(Bunnygirl, Fri 7 May 2004, 22:40, Reply)

found
this website where some fruitcake keeps a diary of all his poos because he thinks he 'flushed a little man down the shitter once'

www.3lliot.com/elliotpoodiaries.htm
(Spank0, Fri 7 May 2004, 22:34, Reply)

Literary reference
OK, this is the last one, I promise. In Martin Amis' novel "Success", the hero is sitting in the traps at work and describes the noise of the co-crapper in the next cubicle as being like "someone pouring a sack of melons down a well". Very evocative.
(rogerzilla, Fri 7 May 2004, 22:09, Reply)

Tandoori
I'm not quite sure how to spell it, but this really dry Indian chicken dish, called Tandoori... The color of Tandoori paste is bright red, and it doesn't digest. Your poop comes out bright red.

I thought I was dying.
(Floz sells fried objects, Fri 7 May 2004, 22:03, Reply)

Throwing poo
I had a friend called Gillon (yes, his first name) with whom I used to go pike fishing on Saturdays. One day Gillon's slightly insane mate Chris turned up to join us. Gillon had waded out and set up his deckchair and rods on a tiny island in the gravel pit, from which there was no quick escape - one foot wrong when wading and you were in 50-foot deep water. Chris pulls down his pants, craps into his own hand and flings it over the water at Gillon. Gillon sees it coming but can't dodge it. It scores a direct hit on the side of his face. Chris never gets invited fishing again, surprisingly.
(rogerzilla, Fri 7 May 2004, 21:44, Reply)

more poo
quick story:

Many moons ago, it was my mates (Steves) birthday - and after many celebratory drinks decided to head back to his moms flat. On way he became desperate for a dump, mere steps away from the front door to the flats he decided it was too late and headed to the nearest convenient object which was a stupidly unlocked car. Morriss pulled open the door and layed the mother of all turds on the passenger seat - to this day I don't know who owned the car but i bet they never forgot to lock it again.
(zork, Fri 7 May 2004, 21:39, Reply)

Following through
I once farted and followed through while watching MTV in bed, in a posh hotel. I think it was the profiteroles I'd had for pudding. Anyway, I had to wash my pair of silk paisley boxer shorts in the sink. They were too expensive to burn.
(rogerzilla, Fri 7 May 2004, 21:37, Reply)

Give it a hand...
i was at a rather posh party at my brothers friends house, when i was about 13. the family were pretty 'hoity toity', so i was minding my manners as best anyone could when their young and been drinking wine all night. we were out at the childrens play area when i felt the urge. i ignored it - i hate taking a shit anywhere that isnt my house. but as the night wore on i was getting cramps and my butt muscles were getting realy tired. so, i ventured into the house and found the bathroom. it was huge. and spotless. i felt like a criminal defacing the place. the shit took me at least 15/20 min. i was paranoid someone was going to come look for me, as it was one of those that just wont go back, but i was just some irrelevant kid neways. when id finaly finished, it was huge, which freaked me out cuz im a very small person. i flushed. nothing happened. i flushed again, and the water started rising. i flushed again, panicing, as the water reached the seat. knowing i was getting nowhere, i had no other option but to reach into the bowl and push it through. my entire arm was soaked. i had to wipe my entire arm and shitty-smelling hand on the clean crisp towels.

I was very quiet for the rest of the night.

my appologies for length.
(Belladonna, Fri 7 May 2004, 21:34, Reply)

Pooooooo!
I used to work in a pikey branch of Burger King. There were an unbelievable amount of mongs working there but there was a bloke nicknamed Berty who truly took the biscuit.
Being the resident spacker he was nominated to clean out the loos after someone had an explosive crap. Well, he cleaned the loo thoroughly enough, but rather than take the bucket of rancid poo-water down the employee stairs (which would've have been the sensible option considering the stairs were right next to the toilets) he proceeded to lug the slop through the upstairs dining area, down the stairs and through the lunchtime rush crowds. Picture the scene- hoards of hungry people suddenly turning green. Hehe. Berty continued on his poo-quest, pushing the bucket through the kitchen filling the whole place with diarrhoea fumes. He then began to empty the bucket into the sink for washing hands. The manager, seeing this, turned purple and went nuts. Berty then turned and emptied the bucket in the veg washing sink, over some freshly washed tuppaware-type containers for the mayonnaise. The smell lingered for hours.
Oh Berty, what a tit you were. He has gone down in Burger King legend.
(Bunnygirl, Fri 7 May 2004, 21:32, Reply)

On her majesty's service
Friend of mine in the army, coincidentally called Major Log, told us this story. "Apparently", when stationed in Germany there was a local cabaret act who would bet any member of the audience that they would be unable to curl one off on her face.

Being a heavily army populated town, this challenge was frequently taken up. The challenger would take to the stage, drop his kacks and squat over the prostrate woman. The cunning minx would gently blow on the ringpiece in front of her face, and lo and behold, the challenger would be unable to open his brown eye. German lady wins the cash.

Knowing of this challenge, Major Log and his team forced one of their squaddies to suffer a two day diet of curry, lager, beans, cabbage, more curry, more lager, etc. etc. while at the same time strictly forbidding him from letting his brown trouts loose. Squaddy is taken to club, and when the challenge is laid down he is pushed to the stage.

Picture the finale of the story. German lady on her back. Squaddy drops kacks. German lady positions herself, starts blowing. Master of ceremonies gives the go ahead to young man to attempt that which had yet to be achieved.

World falls out of his bottom.

Bottom falls out of her world.

She is never seen in that town again.
(dibledo, Fri 7 May 2004, 21:25, Reply)

The Missing Turd
One time I went to my buddy's house in a nearby town. I was going to spend the night, which allowed me to get as drunk as I felt like. I drank most of a bottle of tequila and my friend Dale, stayed sober so he could drive us around. His dad was out of town for the weekend so he thought we would spend the night at his dad's house cuz I'd never been there & seen it.
At the end of the night when we got to his dad's house I was so bombed that I soon passed out in the family room downstairs.
Dale went upstairs to go to sleep in his dad's room.
In the middle of the night I woke up with TERRIBLE shit pains. I looked around & it was total darkness.
I've never been more disoriented.
I had no idea where anything was, & I was crawling around on the floor trying to find a doorway or anything that might be the bathroom. I was about to burst & I was nearly crying in pain.
A prize winning turd was coming out, ready or not.
Yep, I was growing a tail in the dark, in a strange house, plastered drunk.
Then details fade & the next thing I remember is waking up in the morning after the sun came up.
Then it hit me.
I broke out in a horrified sweat.
I'd fucking pooped somewhere in Dale's dad's house!
I had no idea where.
But there wasn't a bathroom down there I noticed.
So I hunted around wondering where I would have shat while lost in the dark. I looked for about a half hour until I found a nice steamer about the size of my forearm in a clothes basket in the laundry room. I got 3 dryer sheets off of a shelf & picked up the item. Then I went upstairs to find a toilet to flush it down.
When I got to the top of the stairs imagine my terror when I met Dale's wife there!
She had come over to surprise us by making us breakfast.
How sweet of her.
So there I stand, holding a gigantic human turd wrapped in dryer sheets, trying to hide it from her while we make pleasant smalltalk.
~
Don't tell anyone about this cuz I don't want them to find out.
Thanks.

Love;
buckeyebradford
(buckeyebradford, Fri 7 May 2004, 20:47, Reply)

School Urban Legend
During the 5th Year, a story went around about a boy who aparently had be molested in the toilets (in an all boys school). We must have spent hours trying to work out who the alleged victim was and who the culprit might have been.

Years later, after meeting several of our old teachers in the pub and all getting VERY legless the mystery was finally revealed:
The kid had aparently shit himself during a lesson, managed to hide the stench until breaktime and then do a bunk and run home. Once there and having disposed of the 'evidence' he told his mum that the reason he was home early (obviously after running home crying all the way) was because he'd been 'interfered' with by one of the bigger boys in the toilet.
( HSDriver was probably still at work on, Fri 7 May 2004, 20:42, Reply)

When I
was a kid, I used to be more interested in stones and fossils than perhaps I should have been. On holiday in Wales, I was joyfully running around hitting rocks with my little rock hammer when I found this small pile of what looked like wooden beads. Being inquisitive, I picked one up and gave it an experimental squeeze at which point it exploded flicking pieces across my face. It was a goat turd.

Also when I was about twelve, I had a toy plane which you could unscrew the nose cone and put a cap in it. I was arsing around and balancing this 2cm brass pellet on my nose. With my mouth open. One swallow later, I was having X-rays. My mum made matters worse by telling the doctor I had swallowed a bullet. Several shits went by. After days of me crapping in my sister's potty (highly embarassing for a twelve year old) and my mum mashing my shit with a fork, (which was thrown away after of course) the pellet was found.
(Xybex, Fri 7 May 2004, 20:41, Reply)

A Couple Of Lifes Warm Experiences
A number of years ago after a particulary heavy night down Manchester I was visited the next day by my girlfriend. Feeling the shunting sensation of gas pockets moving around my lower bowel and finding farts hysterically funny I decided to bend over and engulf my girlfriends head in a warm cloud of gas. Unfortunately the bending motion and afteraffects of the night before had an unexpected consequence and I ended up filling my jogging pants all the way down to the elasticated ankles with a substantial layer of warm viscous shite. Although the accompanying sound and my sudden departure must have made it clear exactly what had happened she never mentioned the incident or dumped (no pun intended) me.

I also used to play a lot of sports at school and being a lanky, skinny bloke suffered from back problems from time to time. On one occasion I had gone for shit at home and after laying the cable bent over to pick the toilet roll up off the floor, cue the most incredible pain I have ever felt as I managed to slip a disk in my back. I had to whimper (shouting hurt too much) for my mum to come and help me and when she arrived she had to wipe my arse for me as I was bent double and unable to move. I am still unsure as to what was worse the pain or the pyschological trauma of having to have my mum wipe my arse for me when I was 15.
( Straw Dog, Fri 7 May 2004, 20:31, Reply)

A dog, a baby, lots of shit and me: My life as a mother
I used to have a dog, Vixen. I then gave birth to my squalling boy child. Vixen was a collie-alsatian cross, who was particularly fond of poo. Horse, person, her own, the cat.. just poo.

So being the disgusting baggage I am, I let the nappies pile up in a bag at the side of the bed for a few days before I put them in the bin. One day I came home to discover my bedroom covered in nappy innards, shit smears and dog foot prints. I mean *everywhere*. In my bed, in the cot, on my clothes. EVERYWHERE.

Then of course my delightful son decided, when he was 2, to smear his shit on his walls when the health visitor was due to visit. That was nice. At least he was artistic about it.

Then there was the time I was 5. I was wearing my favourite burgundy dungarees. I was also suffering from a very bad case of gastroeneritis. Couldn't get the dungys down quick enough.. Mum put me in the bath after striping me off and I was merrily sick and shat in the bath for about an hour. I remember every last second of that. There is photographic evidence of it, but I'm still searching for it.

My brother produces the most enormous turds you've ever seen in your life. This is fair enough now, as he's 6'3" of a grown man. However when he was 4, 5, 6 etc he could produce *THE SAME FUCKING VOLUME*. We would regularly have to use the toilet brush to break it up and push it round the U bend.

He took to running round the back of the garage and having slash/shit on the compost heap instead of going inside to the loo. It *stank* like nothing I've ever smelt since. Dad managed to get it to rot down, and it made the most fertile and beautiful compost. The veg the summer after was marvellous.. (yes, we ate it)

Unfortunately my son has developed the habit of peeing in public. Yesterday he stood in the middle of the outdoor shopping arcade and pissed into the gutter. In front of a large group of eldery hags. Adam is now 4 and very proud of his bodily effusions. He likes to watch it run down to the grate. Shame these ladies didn't.. Thought I was going to get arrested :)

Men: you don't know the concept of shitting until you've had the most horrendous period that's lasted for 40 odd days. Thats 40 odd days of bleeding heavily, cramping, screaming and rolling about in pain. And not being able to shit. I went 43 days without shitting once. I kid yea not. When it finally arrived (after recourse to the laxative I had left over after giving birth) the resulting turd was approximately 17 inches long, 5 inches across and covered in blood. Ah yes.. the piles. Pregnancy gives you piles you know.. and then the week following this turd was an excercise in not shitting myself in public. I didn't leave the house much that week. Or wear white.

So yes. Being a mother revolves around shit. Feeding child to make it shit, then cleaning said shit up, disposing of shit and trying to get offspring to stop playing with his shit. Good job I love him :)
(switchbit, Fri 7 May 2004, 20:20, Reply)

Shitball.
I've a mate who said he once farted and literally thought he'd blown a hole in his back pocket as he felt what he thought was a pound coin fall down the back of his leg. Shaking his trouser leg he waited for the nugget to roll out, only to discover it was a nugget like no other. A perfectly formed round piece of shite. He and a friend then allegedly played footie with it all the way to the pub.
( Yoofaloof 'I like it here, wherever it is...', Fri 7 May 2004, 20:13, Reply)

pool poo poo
in about 8th grade my cousin had her birthday party in the local "aquatic center" (big indoor pool). While they were all swimming and having a good time, some toddler decided it was his big chance to take a huge gross dump right into the water at the shallow end. Then, a slightly older kid saw it all floating around and probably smelled something funny, so he tossed up his lunch into the pool as well.
The lifeguards evacuated everyone and the pool was shut down for two days.
(mudpepper, Fri 7 May 2004, 20:09, Reply)

Brown fun
Two inseparable (not gay) guys at my college, let's call them Eric and Ernie, would probably be described as 'legends'. One of them recently produced an albino shit, and promptly requested the other verify this achievement.

Another story: one of my friends used to time himself bathing the brown babies. He was immensely pleased at how long it would sometimes take.
(DoctorJ last upset some twat who doesn't like swearing on, Fri 7 May 2004, 19:58, Reply)

The picture really doesn't do it justice...
Our swamp of shite in our back garden last year! It really was the most rancid, disgusting thing ever.

We never did have that BBQ we were planning...

www.warwickboar.co.uk/?article=1716
(Chloe, Fri 7 May 2004, 19:26, Reply)

Not me, but I was there..
that fateful day in maths, in about year 9.
A poor guy, who I later became quite good friends with at college, had forgotten his textbook. As this guy was known for being a bit of the joker-type, and the teacher wasn't in the mood, he made him bring his bag up to the front so he could search it.
Dutifully, the guy took his bag up to to front, and the teachers started to take stuff out and put in on his desk, in view of the whole class. To everyone's, including the teacher's surprise, he did not find the textbook, but instead was greeted by the sight of a big, full, nappy residing between folders and books and stationary.
Turns out, the guy had some cheeky younger brothers, and a recently born younger sister. Combine the two, and you get very funny nappy-in-the-schoolbag scenarios.
(niftyshellsuit, Fri 7 May 2004, 18:43, Reply)

Not me but my flat mate
Had an accendent while he was at Karate.

He decided before the lesson that he could hold in the monster that was bubbling inside him.

He went out in to the lesson in his nice white Karate outfit all happy but slowly as the lesson went on he knew he had made a mistake and while he was looking at the clock he missed the teacher coming over to him and asking him to do an example of the splits

When the teacher asked him again he came back to reality and realised he was in trouble but there was noting he could do about it. He want on to do this splits for the class but couldnt go down as far as normal because he was clenching to stop leakage. Unfortunatly the teacher wasnt happy with the effore and proceded to push on his sholder saying that he could do better.

It was at this point that the worst happened. With the added pressure of the teacher pushing down on him, his clenching wasnt enough and as he went in to the full splits everying that he had been trying to hold on to for the last hour found its escape route and came flying out turning his nice white outfit a funny shade of brown and also letting out the most ubnoxious smell you can imagine.

As i'm sure you can imagin we thought it was well funny (11 year olds) but the teacher decided to finish the lesson then and for some reason my flat mate decided to give Karate a miss from then on and used to go to the loo at least twice per lesson in school just incase.

*sorry about the long one
( weekendsession, Fri 7 May 2004, 18:00, Reply)

shit
Last august, I was on my way to york for a meeting, I had a new suit on, I parked the Golf GTI in the car park and went for a mcdonalds breakfast, about five mins I felt some gas and did a grover, which was followed by shit, runny, brown...shitI had to run to the nearest MOSSbross about 500m away from the staion car park and buy a new suit, put the old one in the new car in the blazing sun for the rest of the day...... so i got off the GNER got into the car, the smell was so bad I porjectile vomited all down the new suit.....
(NikC, Fri 7 May 2004, 17:57, Reply)

Shire horse shit
As a young lad i was treated to a day at the 'national shire horse centre'. Despite how lame this sounds, they had a pretty fantastic assault course, with which i busied myself during the afternoon.

About 1/3 round my third trip of the course i got that all too familier heavy, pressing feeling round my sphincter. Being as i was a good fifteen minutes away from civilisation, i had to clench and carry on.

At the point that i was furthest from the centre, surrounded by woodlands, i decided there was nothing for it but to log off in these natural surroundings, like God probably did.

I ran into the bushes at top speed, jumping fallen branches and making sure no one was following. Just as i was looking around for a place to squat, the urge to go was lifted from me. I stood, dazed.

Fair enough i thought, and a minute later stepped to turn around. Perhaps it was the raising of my leg, or the turn of my body, i'm not sure, but for the next 30 seconds, liquid shit poured and bubbled right into my kecks, with no relent. Being a curious boy i had to confirm my suspicions, the dripping brown on my fingers told me i was in trouble. I had to get toilet paper, soon. The resulting journey back to the toilets, along the assault course was the worst experince of my life. I haven't been on one since.
(natural selection, Fri 7 May 2004, 17:55, Reply)

poo
I was in the army in Germany in the early 90's and one of the regiments 'characters' was known as 'Dangerous Brian'. Anyway after a good piss-up in the NAAFI everyone staggered off to the parties that would go on through the night.
Next morning we got up for work only to find that the cookhouse was closed and there was no breakfast to be had.
Somebody had broken into the kitchens and laid the biggest log you've ever seen on the hotplate and then escaped via a skylight.
Everybody knew who it was but kept quiet and 'Dangerous Brian' escaped the sergeant majors anger.
There was a collection for the young german girl who had to clear it up so i hope that she has got over it by now.
(scouselad, Fri 7 May 2004, 17:31, Reply)

I've just remembered a few..
There was of course the giant phantom poo in the boys 6th form toilets, named Goliath, that was never officially claimed.

Then there was the time I gave myself food poisoning in halls at uni, and spent about 3 days up with no sleep (so scared was I that I would puke or worse in my bed) running between my room and the ladies. Now one of the cubicles had been locked for a week or so and no one knew why. I got into the bathroom to hurl up my latest attempt of a meal just as some workmen came out. Seeing that they had been in there to unlock the mystery door, I thought 'hmm, I wonder what was in there?'
Never look behind mysteriously locked doors. They are locked for a reason.
Some poor person had crapped all over the bog, seat, lid, cistern and bowl. The walls and the floor and the pipes behind the toilet were covered in a splashy brown mess with the occasional lump here and there.
This of course, did not help my already delicate constitution, so I legged it into the next door trap and heaved a bit more.
It got cleaned up pretty sharpish, although if you knew where to look there was still a big stain on the floor.

It has been suggested that it was me in old-ham-induced feverish delirium not realising I had, but I swear I was not THAT ill. And surely there should have been some more nasty evidence in my room or on my clothes if it had been..? Pish, I know what I saw!

But the worst I can think of is one time when were teenagers, and we were hanging out in our usual field, smoking and what have you. It was usual practise to wee in the bushes, saves a walk to someone's house, y'know. But this one time, my friend's brother needed a dump, so he went in the corner of the field.
Apparently out of curiosity he dropped a match on it after 'to see if it would burn'. Well, we learnt our lesson that day, that yes, turds do burn. We noticed a column of smoke coming from it a few minutes after giving up on it doing anything, and started to panic. Now we weren't going anywhere near it, I mean, stamp out someone else's burning poo? So we made Rick do it.
Unfortunately for him, however, he'd come out that day with only his rollerblades...
::shudder::

(apologies for length, but this is the first time I've had a good story)
(niftyshellsuit, Fri 7 May 2004, 17:09, Reply)

Virgin Trains and ElderlyTurds
A slightly shocking experience recently, taking one of those new fancy Virgin trains (with the plug sockets under the seats) from Exeter up to Birmingham with my team leader.

Went to the toilet, about an hour outside of Brum, and upon pressing the 'open' button, was greeted with the sight of an elderly woman leaping to her feet, knickers around her ankles, old lady pubes showing, with a half-formed log sticking out of her arse... which then fell onto her knickers.

I turned, freaked and went back to my seat to relay the hilarious tale to my team leader, whereupon we both starting pissing ourselves with laughter, only to be joined by the old lady herself a few minutes later, who was sat on the seat in front of us.

That'll never leave me, that.
( mattl has moved to boston, Fri 7 May 2004, 17:07, Reply)