In the bogs at work
the cleaners have put a sign up that says:

"Please leave these toilets in the state you would like to find them."

Beneath, someone has penned:

"I would like to find these toilets in the state of Florida because it would mean I wouldn't be at work."
(Skellers, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 15:14, Reply)

Brighton's best
A few years ago, I had to go to Brighton for a meeting. I parked in the railway station car park (as the meeting was only a few mins from the station). It was a cold winter morning and I was busting for a golden splosh.. so I found the toilet entrance and made my way down the stairs into this subterranean pit that was poorly lit, stank like.. well a fucking dreadful public toilet and was just all too quiet. The urinal was some distance off on the wall at the far end of khazi. As I made my way to the dimly lit porcelain wall I noted one other user, stood at the left end and judging by his motion just finishing and shaking the drips off.. so I took station at the other end and vented my swollen bladder. Resisiting that odd male occupation of taking a quick peep.. I just used my peripheral vision to take stock and realised the guy was still there… shaking off the drips. Well I put two and two together.. Brighton.. toilets.. murky.. uh oh.. he’s engaging in the delights of Onan. Now as it was just me and him in there I decided to finish up prematurely and got out of there on the hurry up, in case he decide some company in his solitary action would be better.

OK.. meeting goes ahead, many coffees enjoyed.. and it’s time to go. On the stroll up to the station.. the cold winter sea breeze hits me and I realize I need another piss. So I scurry down the forbidden steps into the toilet and stop short. There, in the left corner of the urinal is the same guy.. and by the looks of it still in action. I had been in the meeting for one and a half hours.. so that guy must have been treading water for at least an hour and forty five!!! That is true dedication. It must have been a labour of love by then. Luckily I am in control of my senses other wise I would have shaken him by the hand.. the spare non-wanking one that is..
I decided it was best to beat a retreat and relieve myself in the car in an empty bottle and add it to the Motorway Lemonade bottles along the M27.
(The Lord God Almighty My bottom smells of poo, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 14:47, Reply)

..
Me and a mate spent a month this summer working at a school in Ascot. There was about 18 people working there and we all slept, ate, drank and use the toilet in the west wing of the school. One morning me and said mate had just got up from a night of serious drinking, i said "i need to go for a shit" and he said he needed to aswell. The annoying thing is that the only toilets we had to use where right next to each other, and the wall between might as well have been paper. So it was highly unpleasant to have to listen to others strains and grunts, So he went first and i would go later. 5 minutes later i was really touching cloth so i decided to just go for it. On arrival at said toilets, i saw one was occupied (my mate) and the other was vacant. I had just put my hand on to open the door and i heard the Cleaning lady singin along in there. Annoyed i ran to the other end of the school and used the bogs there. Upon returning (with the usual post huge dump euphoria), i saw my mate, and told him about my annoyance. He then preceeded to tell me of his experience. He had been sat there happily dumping away, and he heard the cleaning lady come in to the other toilet (she is an elderly Haitian lady, who constantly sings song from her homeland very loud). Obviously he stopped his bomb dropping till she had finished her work. Then the singing stopped suddenly and he said the sound he heard was exactly the same as the famous laxative scene from Dumb and Dumber, she then started to sing again, then stop and release bowl as previous, that is when he left. The scary thing is, if i had been 4 seconds earlier, when i had checked to see if it was being used previously, i would have opened the door and witnessed (and smelled) this terrifying act.

sorry about length
( Radagarst, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 14:45, Reply)

Toilet website
I mentioned on a previous QOTW that I did some freelance work on a website for a campaign aiming to improve school toilets.

One of my favourite ever projects. About half the site is for kids, so you get to do lots of fun stuff (research toilet facts) and say things like 'wee' and 'poo'.

My emails from the client would include things like "please change 'poo' to 'do a poo' and add 'crapper' to the list of toilet words."

Two months writing about nothing but toilets. Bliss.

The website is www.bog-standard.org.
(Pachey, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 14:45, Reply)

French confusion...
Whilst being taken round France by our parents, my brother and I (aged 4), one day, were lucky enough to get our very own hotel room; it was connected to our parent's room by a door, and had it's very own bathroom: we felt very grownup!

We'd been sat in the car for a good few hours, so I ran (or waddled, I was really very desperate) to the strangely-shaped loo, and peed for HOURS. It felt good. Then decided that I'd quite like a shit, and duly indulged myself. It was huge. Like an extra from "Planet of the Apes", without the hair.

Then, because I was so grown-up, I used lots and lots of loo roll, until I was squeaky clean. Problem was, it wouldn't flush.

I'd shat in the bidet. And there was no real loo. THat was in my parent's bathroom.

Cue my parents running in, alerted by my brother's disgusted screaming. They had to fish it out with loo roll, run out our bathroom, through our room, into their room and into their bathroom, where they finally flushed the behemoth away.

My family have never been quite so adoring to me since that point.


woo! first post!
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 14:38, Reply)

no lock...
A disabled friend of mine was having a party, back in the day when I was about 16.
She doesn't have a lock on her loo door, as she has to be able to get in and out in a wheelchair, and her helper has to be able to help 'er.
there was a girl I quite liked there. I only went and walken in on her in the loo didn't I! I couldn't look her in the eye again. Oh well.
(teasus likes tea, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 14:36, Reply)

Lavatories Of The World
www.mil-millington.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/lavvy.htm

Also, have a read of Mr Millington's www.thingsmygirlfriendandihavearguedabout.com/
which is highly recommended - but not to do with toilets (to my knowledge).
(Felchman, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 14:26, Reply)

Confused... or something
I was in the loos at the bowling alley, using the urinals with another bloke next to me. (Not right next to me, obviously; we were observing The Rules.)

Toilet directly behind us flushes, cubicle door opens, and a woman walks out. "Ooooh!!" she squeals, "I'm in the Men's!!" Then runs out.

I stared at the other bloke - "Did that really just happen?" he said.
(simon shitting mason, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 14:17, Reply)

My fondest memory
'My spidey sense is canningaling' I announced at the top of my voice. She looked hopeful that something else may happen but we both knew what I was there for and she had been paid good money. The damp inside the small cubicle filled the air with a must that could be tasted and burned the eyes, lungs and throat.
I was bent double with my gaudy legs up by my ears and my quivering anus edging ever closer to her open gullet. A solitary tear rode down her cheek and another rolled down mine.
I wrenched up and down, up and down, my torso riding up in the air and back down again with ever increasing gusto.
There was a much more threatening tone to my voice as I pushed my face into her field of vision and again announced. 'My spidey sense is canningaling!' she nodded knowingly and as my pinched gulliver twitched she turned and squinted and squirmed in her seat.
The feces began to pour out. A four inch thick sturdy logstick that defied the size of the hole from whence it came.
It plopped down onto my belly with a satisfying 'thud'.
She reached into her pocket and pulled a small lace hanker-chief with which she dabbed the corners of her dainty mouth.
'I'm sorry about that' she explained in her regal tones, 'one just needed to have a giant shit out from ones mouth.'



I buttoned up my trousers and fled the scene.
Imagine my surprise when i saw her two years later in the movie Star Wars dressed as an old man with white hair and a brown flowing robe.
(JinDod, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 14:05, Reply)

twix torpedo
A goodly few years ago, I was working in a (very small) shop, just myself and the manager. The toilet in this place was just a tiny room, off to the left of the counter, approx 4 feet from where the customers were to be served. The manager, a young bloke only a few years senior to my good self, had a 'large one' the night before, and come the morning, felt the need to evacuate, and fair enough cry all. 15 min. later, and several flushing noises, he comes out of the bog, giggling to himself, saying 'here, come and look at THIS one!' (we were that close, i guess) and i was confronted with 2 poos, of equal size and length, stuck parallel to each other, and glued with poo-stick to the bottom of the toilet. The bugger wouldn't flush. not even a little bit. So over the next 3 days, we contine to use the bog, each and every time confronted with his twix-like poo smiling at us after we flushed. We tire of this, and begin to bombbard the little fuckers with bleach, toliet duck, air freshener, and even CD lens cleaning fluid, every chemical we could ley our hands on. the little bastard wouldn't budge. we were loath to poke it, and lacked poo poking impliments. Problem was, we had a new girl starting the next day, so we spent 5 hours flushing the toilet every 3 min, hoping to dislodge it. Eventually it went, with a sound not unlike that of a twin-launch of a torpedo, complete with feeling of de-pressureisation. or perhaps that was just the sense of relief after 3 days of being layed seige to by a twixpoo.
(menashem, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 14:02, Reply)

Toilets 2
Another comes to mind, this one personal. And vile.
Last year I had an unpleasant brush with a biting fly, resulting in a badly infected forhead. I looked fine except I had a lump the size of a melon: not something you want on your face. It hurt like hell and gave me headaches, sleepless nights and the like.
One day I was at work, barely able to concentrate and feeling miserable. Needing a nature break, I retired to the toilet and took care of business. Whilst washing my hands, I looked aghast in the wash bason to ceiling mirror at my face with the melon of a forhead. Please bear in mind this thing had resisted all attempts at squeezing, lancing and poking. In a futile atempt to relieve the pain I touched either side with my index fingers. Just touched mind you, nothng so brutal as a squeeze. The bloody thing mush have been waiting because it exploded. So much stuff came out it HISSED. I had covered the entire side of our works public toilet mirror with a thick layer of yellow red gunk.
You've never seen a man clean faster in your life (that after I'd thrown up, adding to the mess). I could go on but I'm feeling sick all over again.
(DustyD, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 14:02, Reply)

almost nicked...
Back at uni in Sheffield, my mate Rhys and I were just on our way home after a couple of pints when we decided we should head for Stomp (an indie night we used to go to most weeks). I'm busting for a piss so I say that I need to nip home and use the loo. Rhys in his wisdom explains that the 10 yard walk to the house and back again will eat into our drinking time and that I should have a piss right there on the street. Unable to overcome the logic of this argument, I proceed to whip it out and begin merrily watering one of the local trees. At which moment a cop car pulls up in front of us and I get the whole 'how would you like it if it were your house' lecture, to which I wonder whether it'd be a good idea to point and say 'this is our house' but decide against it...Luckily the cops decide they've got better things to do and after a few more stern words they disappear. Only to stop us again later that night on our way home again when this time it's my mate taking a leek and they fine him £50. Hehe!
( ChairmanMiaow Stop! Look! Kitten!, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 13:54, Reply)

Peeing backwards
Whilst on year 11 camp, my friend michael went off to the toilets, on returning with the most excited look on his face he exclaimed that he had mastered the art of peeing backwards by tucking his penus between his legs, he later showed us his new mastered skill by pissing backwards onto the camp fire to everyones displeasure as a cloud of steam floated around the area.
(Gus6489, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 13:53, Reply)

Toilets
Back in the early eighties I was studdying in brighton and living in halls of residence (read: parts of a hotel hired out, nowhere near as nice as it sounds). I overheard a conversation along the lines of, "Well.. someone has to tell them.... it's seeping and all over the place....who's going to clean it up??".
It seems they had a family of not-quite-all-there's staying. They were more than familiar with toilet facilities and all was well... except the toilet didn't flush and they didn't report it. What they did was continue to use it. For a couple of weeks. Until it filled. And overflowed. And seeped. and I think I'll stop there.
(DustyD, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 13:52, Reply)

my cousins nickname is piston
not because he is a love making stallion. instead he came home drunkenly one night and pissed on his parents tv.
( bertisfantastic bert is a sleepy bear, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 13:46, Reply)

glastonbury poo fest
just to follow up on the glastonbury dance tent/dance toilet tradgedy. yes, in an extremley muddy festival the relevent authorities tried to suck up the mud with the poo collecting tanker and yes, they accidently switched it to 'blow-poo', instead of 'suck-poo'. what i don't has been mentioned was that, after closing the tent for a short time, the festival organisers decided to put down some straw, well know for its disinfectant properties, and then let everyone in....
i was a bit let down by having to dj to a dozen bemused ravers peering in at each entrance as my set was during the period the tent was closed. this however, was more than made up for by seeing dozens of drug casualties picking souvenier ADAM F rave whistles (that had been thrown into the crowd) out of the pooey straw mix and blowing away merrily on them for the rest of the gig.

first post and off topic already - woo hoo...
(e p f, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 13:46, Reply)

mega turdage
We all have those friends who are a little dim and subsequently are the recipients of all pranks and nasties. Our friend was called joel.
Whilst consuming vast quantities of beer in 'downing' competitions we distrated joel and slyly introduced 4 ultra strong ground up anti-diarrhoea tablets into his beverage recepticle without his knowing, cue us insisting he down it in one go, and he did. Then it came to the second part of our devious plan. Knowing that these tablets would clog up the mersey we kept asking him if he had been for a shit, three days passed without him ......passing. So when we next drank we again distracted him and this time placed some ground up super powered laxatives into his drink which he finished, again completely unaware. The next day we couldnt wait for hi to return from work and tell us tales of his rectal adventures. Whilst at work he felt the familiar rumbling of his bowels and set off for the toilet, only on his way he thought he would release a bit of the pressure by squeezing out a fart, but it wasnt a fart it was in fact a huge torrent of shit. It proceeded to fill his undies, then trickle out into his jeans and even seep through his overalls, but this exprince wasnt over yet, he embarrasedly told his boss what had happened and was sent home to clean up. Only his home was a 8 mile bus journey away. added to the fact that this was the hieght of summer on hot sweaty public transport it wasnt his favourite journey home.And he wondered why no-one else sat on the top deck of the bus!!!
(lankynyack, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 13:43, Reply)

Flippin Crazy Cat
After reading a few of these i was just reminded of an incident involving a mates cat.

Set the scene, teenage party......lots of booze......and a cat.

Cue the cat meowing all poxy evening wanting as my mate put it *a good stroking*. Being intoxicated we soon forgot about the cat.

Later that evening i stumble towards the toilet to relieve myself of the copious amount of alcohol to be confronted by a closed bathroom door, i knock politley as not to cause embaressment to anyone allready in there.

As i open the door i hear a blood curdling Screech followed by a pooy blur running from inside the bath up the shower curtain and past my head.

Upon closer inspection i had disturbed the cat mid-poop which it was doing over the plug hole of the bath. REalising someone had discovered his evil plans made a mad dash. Hence Flithy Stinking cat poo all over the bath, Spayed all up the shower curtain and over the door.

when my mates parents got home they shouted at him for not letting the cat out and made him clean it up....still rather drunk
(Discobeaver, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 13:42, Reply)

Budapest
Drunk, stoned, etc etc

Late at night stagger up to the dorm room and pass out. Wake up with the need to piss, its pitch black, i'm drunk and I don't know where I am.

I ended up pissing all over the wall in a crowded dorm room with 1 unfortunate girl's backpack sitting in the pool of my piss, my excuse is that I was trying to piss out of the window(which was closed) but actually I think I was so drunk that I thought the wall was the toilet.

I was gracious enough to clean it up though before anyone else woke up(had to throw that jumper away) and nobody said a thing in the morning.
(Inglorious_Other, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 13:41, Reply)

what's the worst kind of skid?
I once was *really* busting for a wee, and had broken into something of a panic, and then a run, into a manky public loo. As I crossed the threshold of the convenience I whipped out the old fella, but became aware that the trough urinal that I was headed for was blocked and flooded, I began to skid, too late, my feet slid into the trough up to my ankles, I fell onto my back in a puddle of piss, and weed on my face.
(brainburger, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 13:33, Reply)

Always turn the bog light on!
A while back my good friend at work told me something (in confidence) that happened to him the night before:

He endulged in a rather "hot" curry for mid evening munchies. Then later goes off to bed.
Then sometime during the night he was awoken by the "need to go" feeling. As he stood up and the contents of his stomach dropped giving the "desperately need to go" feeling. So off he runs to the bog, by now his ring muscles are at full strain.
Due to the urgency he didn't have time to switch the light on. So in 1 movement, pants down - turn so arse is positioned over the bog and before his cheeks touch down - full breech - it all came out! A moment later he realised that the bog seat lid was still down!

This was followed by swithing the bog light on and half an hour of "i need a cloth, there's been an incident"

Why he told me this I don't know.


Bumguff
(Bumguff, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 13:31, Reply)

Quasar laser toilet blunder
It's the old classic story. Boy has good time with a laser gun, boy needs toilet, boy goes into toilet.

Boy meets girl. Girl, being a lady of fourty-odd years giggles and exits. Boy wonders why. Boy searches for urinals...

Boy realises why girl was giggling. TAXI!
( bloojam Is back(ish) in bl3ck, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 13:25, Reply)

Toilets
On our last day of secondary school it was tradition to pull a few pranks as we left for the last time. Cue my friend who we will call 'Joe Robinson of Kingsfold' going into the toilets nearest the staff room and laying a mammoth sized cable in the urinal. As if that wasnt enough he went and told the head of year that 'someone had left him a present' Laughed? I nearly shat!!
This was also the guy who broke into the school kitchens during the summer break, shat in a bowl and put in the microwave for about eight hours. We never did see that microwave in home ec. classes again.
And also he told me stories of his associates who after taking a dislike to a certin teacher would break into their office at night and curl one out into their desk drawers for them to find during morning registration.
Apologies for the lack of structure, but by god the girth!!!
(lankynyack, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 13:19, Reply)

Honestly I try to avoid toilets if I can.
Give me a good hole in the ground any day.
(Catfish Ma, why can't I draw? "Because you have fins dear", Tue 6 Sep 2005, 13:01, Reply)

Oh dear god make it stop!
Good idea
Bad idea...

Right the (ex)missus was way for the week visiting here sister so I decide to induldge my passion for spice by making a realy hot curry and by realy hot I mean sevire breathing difficulties.... So I browsed the web and found a recipe for an authentic india curry developed arround the north london circular called the chicken ring stinger (I think we can see where this is going).

This curry involves 1lb of birds eye chillies and was great! I just yummed it up drank lots of beer and then fell asleep. The next morning I work up 1st dump of the day......................................................................................................
felt odly good ,whay hay got away with it!!, had a shower and got the train to work.
10 minutes from london and I start to feel the call
5minute to london it turns to a shout
train pulls in and nature is having a full blown panic attack
so I run to the loos at full pelt, NOOOOOOO!!! I see a sign that says I need 20p!!!! I have no coins!!!!!! and what feels like molten lead is threatening to melt my rectum!!!!!!

Then I spy that the barrier is out of order and the loos are free!!!!

Through the barrier down the stairs then walk calmly into a cubical (i would want to look like I was lossing my cool). sat down and the most painful 20 mins of my life ensued. Shitting broken glass could not of hurt less. my advice go easy on the birds eyes.

I walked like john wayne for 2 days!
(timberwolf0122 is turkey volume guessing man! Guessing the volumes in terms of turkeys since, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 12:42, Reply)

toilet-related injury,
although, more poo than toilet related.

long story short, i'd 'dried up' for a day or 2. feeling rather bloated, i figured all i'd need was a paper (motoring supliment if you must know) and some determination. plonk myself down and start squeezing, to feel the pleasent sensation of poo making its way to the exit, then it seems to halt. undeterred i squeeze harder - nnnng noises, veins on forhead, sweat and clenched fists were all present, then suddenly i feel a twinge. a big one, in the muscle across my lower back. imense pain follows and i stop squeezing. work out i've gone and pulled a bloody muscle in there. couldnt force a shit out for at least a week. i just had to sit there, and let nature take its course.. which with temporary constapation took about 2 more days for the first sign of life. i've never been tempted to really force one out since..
(5lab, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 12:41, Reply)

Camp Storm
I was out camping once where the bog consisted on a shack over a plank with a whole in it that dropped everything into a stream underneath.

One evening a huge thunderstorm kicked up about half way through we hear a girlish scream from the bog.
Being noble gets we investigated on arrival we open the door of the dungy to see the scout master coated from head to toe in shit, him having been unfortunate enough to be gong when the wind picked up his deposit and sprayed it all over the inside of the bog.
( }{ amis }{, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 12:36, Reply)

How to scare a stranger
Myself and two mates were visiting a public convinience on a night out when a mate took it upon himself to try a hilarious practical joke which involved him rattling the toilet door and shouting "I'm going to put my balls on your chin!". Joke was on him though, we'd already left the toilet and the poor person in the cubicle probably had the rest of the shit scared out of him! It wasn't till he returned to the bar looking smug that he realised it wasn't who he thought it was in the cubicle!
( wigstar, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 12:33, Reply)

Mr Hanky's Cousin, Mr Turd
I used to work in a shared office block, obviously with shared bogs, just two toilet cubicles and no urinals. I was particularly busting for a wee one day, so into the loo I dashed. One cubicle was occupied so I used the empty one. I lifted the lid to find that someone had left me the gift of a pungent floater and what a big'un it was too. I left the lid up and flushed. Now these toilets had the most powerful flush you could imagine, and they seemed to gush water for ages. I flushed. Water gushed. Bog was blocked. I can still recall the water reaching the top of the toilet and that huge log-like turd making a break for freedom over the rim. Off he went across the cubicle floor, under the gap, into the cubicle next door. Now remember I said it was occupied. I could see the poor guy's trousers round his ankles. Mr Turd went straight into that guy's trousers. I don't mean it touched them, I mean it violated them, badly. Straight into the folds of material Mr Turd went. I left rapidly at that point. My last vision, a pair of hands rapidly scrambling for his shit stained pants, stained with someone else's shit mind you. He was probably wondering how he would explain this to his workmates, or his family, or whether he should sit in them all day or go home and change. Then I heard him puke. At least it was his puke though.
(RetroSquirrel, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 12:27, Reply)

Yet another.
In another pub in St. Albans that's quite packed we get the drinks in and retire to a corner next to the disabled toilets. When our bladders fill we decide that it would be too much hassle to go to the normal bogs so we go to the disabled one we're next to. The first bloke dives in first, has a piss and comes out. I'm next so I have a dump, flush and come back out. Matt (why does Matthew draw the short straws in my stories?) goes in and does his business.

While we're trying not to look suspicious a clearing forms in the crowd in front of us, slowly moving in our direction. A few seconds later a rather attractive lady is before us, just without any legs. At that point Matt walks out and his first sight is one of a slightly annoyed looking woman in a wheelchair.

Thankfully she saw the funny side a bit later.
(ElectricMonk is falling awake on, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 12:22, Reply)