the best toilets in the world are the ones that aren't on eastern european trains.
After spending a couple of weeks interrailing round eastern europe and becoming used to the bowing floors and the flush which just flapped down the bottom to let your business fall below the train, we went to Denmark. The double doors to the toilet opened and music accompanied my entrance. It smelled of perfume, was light and airy AND HAD BOG ROLL! Bliss.
( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 18:00, Reply)

One drunk friend and dodgy party...
Cue hiding in the loo whilst several men keep trying to open the door, throwing glasses over water over her (one of which breaks on the floor and cuts another friend) whilst she cries hysterically and clings onto arms.

Good times ...
(ladyintheradiator, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 17:43, Reply)

Toilet.
Interesting facts about toilets.

A) - I've got two. An indoor and an outdoor (which we don't use)

B) - I had a poo this morning and it smelt liked Glastonbury festival

C) - My nan has a toilet. She also has loose stools.

D - that's it.

(also heard a lad got thrown down into the bogs at Leeds festival. Not my fault - wasn't there)

E) - That's it. Really.
(Kayozz, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 17:35, Reply)

Under Pressure
A long time ago in a nightclub far, far away...

I used to work behind a bar in a city centre nightclub frequented by all manner of human dross. Hot, overcrowded and full of twunts. Anyway, I digress. Come the end of a particularly gruelling friday night shift, the duty manager asked me to take care of a blockage in the urinal system in the blokes toilet. 'Great', I think, 'elbow deep in piss at 4am', at which point the duty manager brings out from behing his back

- a length of shower hose with tap attachment
- a cannister of CO2 commonly used in beer dispensing systems

For the uninitiated, the pressure in these cannisters is incredible, and they're bloody dangerous to play around with. After asking the manager if he was, indeed, taking the piss, I was despatched to loosen the blockage with the above assembly.

I attach the hose to the cannister, gently insert the business end into the reeking swamp of yeasty piss as far as it will go, and then proceed to (gently as possible) turn the tap on the cannister.

A low rumbling ensues, the piss level subsides, and almost instantaneously, from all the cubicles in the room erupts a geyser of brown, grey and yellow unspeakable matter, coating the walls, ceiling and floor.

Apparently only the slightest pressure was required to shift any blockage and I'd just forced enough pressure through the plumbing to shift concrete if need be.

I put the cannister back and fucked off home. After all, I'd cleared the blockage.
(mymilkshakebringsallthemongstotheyard poison hearts, poison minds - joining hate, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 17:21, Reply)

Another time in Italy on a school trip
We were on a group expedition around the back streets of Rome, when I realised that lunch had disagreed with me.

Not just needing-a-poo, mind, this was a serious rear-evacuation emergency; a war was ensuing in my gut and the battle was heading south at unholy speed.

I tried to survive for a while, but our meanderings were taking us no closer to the hotel. With the clock ticking I begged the teacher to pause the trip and let me use the lavatory.

We found a small restaurant, and almost with tears of relief in my eyes, I was ushered into the only toilet, where I was confronted with... yes a stinking Italian hole-in-the-floor toilet with two footprints in the concrete.

By this time I was almost delirious, so I squatted down and spent a good 10 minutes over the horrid little hole. Once the shakes and sweats had subsided, I looked around to discover that not only was there no sink, but not even any toilet paper. Pulling my trousers back on with a grimace (oh yes), I decided the only option was to escape the restaurant as discretely as possible, and rejoin my party, and never ever think of it again.

I opened the door to make good my escape, only to find a queue at the door of both teachers and half a dozen other students. I could have died...
(ooechs, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 16:56, Reply)

Inflight entertainment...
Just remembered this one.

Returning to Australia for a friends wedding a couple of years ago I flew BA. The aircraft was particularly old, you know no seat back monitors just a couple of puny 12" monitors stuck in the ceiling.
So a couple of hours into the flight I decide to relieve both myself and the boredem.
Business complete I'm standing at the the teeny tiny stainless steel sink reading the labels as I wash my hands when I saw one that read -
"Cabin Crew must wash their genitals after using the toilet"

It's not on newer aircraft so I presume BA decided it was impractical to have the crew standing on the rim and thrusting their minge/todger under the tap.

As the cabin crew appear to be using it as a whisk I think they should apologise for length
(Neuromancer, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 16:54, Reply)

In Greece...
We were staying in this rather cheap hotel in Athens and left it (nice and clean) to go visit the Parthenon or something.

We returned to the hotel to find that the cleaning lady had given the room a once over. Nothing much was different other than a peculiar smell coming from the small toilet room.

Inside the toilet was the biggest Mr Hanky we'd ever seen. I mean it was enormous, standing straight up in the bowl, even breaching the water like some smelly brown iceberg.

My Greek is not good enough to explain to the receptionist that her cleaner/horse had left a guiness record turd in our toilet, so we had no choice but to flush the toilet repeatedly in the hope of weathering it sufficiently that it might one day fit down the tube...
(ooechs, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 16:34, Reply)

My mate went through a sleep-walking/pissing phase...
...and ruined four desktop printers over a couple of months.
(castro, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 16:24, Reply)

in the loo
At a barbeque over in a mate's house, i needed to use the loo. A fair few beers had passed down my throat so as u can imagine, my guts weren't in the most 'orderly' of moods. I then proceeded to have a crap, all going supprisingly well, until i came ot flush....

.... a floater, but not just any floater, THE floater to end all floaters. It survived the first flush, and the second flsuh, and the third and forth flush. The fifth flush was proceeded by me having to get a hand full of loo paper and placed above the rebelious poo to weigh it down... it failed too.

After SIXTEEN FLUSHES, i gave up, covered my hand in paper, picked the poo OUT of the bowl, wrapped it up as best I could, sprayed it with the can of lynx de-odourant left in the bathroom and put it neatly into the bin...

... my sense of acheivement was soon dashed when i saw the look on everyone's faces after they had heard me flsuh the toilet 16 times from the back yard.

I'm supposed to be going over to his house for another bbq today funnily enough.
(kyuoyoo, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 15:57, Reply)

4 year olds
I was in a department store a couple of hours ago when my 4 year old daughter decides to visit the little girls room for a wee, while I hang around outside pretending I`m not hanging around outside a women`s toilet.
Needless to say the wee was in fact a poo, and being only 4 she can`t do that by herself.. cue her shouting "DADDY!! UNCHI! UNCHI!" (Japanese for poo) and me trying to sneak past 2 ladies and a cleaner to get to her cubicle.
We had to hide in there for 5 minutes while a busload of old ladies came in.
( a username Tue 30 Mar 1971 til, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 15:51, Reply)

Signs
When I was travelling I look a few pics of toilet signs that amused me.

Cambodia: showing you how to sit on the loo.



New Zealand: where to put your loo paper



Cambodia again, a sign to the toilet.



This last one perplexed me somewhat, until I went to the toilet and did indeed encounter a number of live crocodiles on the way.
(Pachey, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 15:47, Reply)

when i was about 7
I ate all the green Froot-Loops in a box in one sitting, without milk. The next morning I had a VERY large, semi-pointed, green crap. If I buy some more Froot-Loops soon, I might try it again...and photograph the results for rate-my-poo.com.

Also, since me and my brother started playing Super Smash Bros. games, we have referred to DK as poo.All because he is brown and has a pointy end.
edit: hmmm...how about an answer to do with toilets.
When i was at boarding school, we discovered that if you flushed all the boys' toilets(post-crappage) at the right time(end toilet, wait a sec, next toilet, etc, etc.), you could clog the pipe at a corner.
edit:Intt, i hope to god you are kidding about the plane toilet...
(That guy with a hat., Sun 4 Sep 2005, 15:19, Reply)

In a plane toilet
I joined the mile high club on my own.

Oh, and a while ago I used the "shit pits" at an eco-warrior gathering. Its just a hole fulled with shit, in a field, with just a curtain to stop everyone seeing you.
(Intt, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 14:47, Reply)

pissing off wildlife
While backpacking in Oz a few years back, one of the coach drivers on our travels had advised us of some toiletry rituals we should observe while using public 'dunnies' in the more rurals areas. This involved approaching toilet, kicking up the toilet seat with foot and checking for deadly arachnids before sitting down. Being a bit of a girly aracnaphobic, I had been doing this religiously.

However one night, while in a particually 'earthy' pub in the outbacks of Queensland and after several scooners of weak Oz lager, I had to go out to the dunny (which was in a shed) with my mate maria. I went in first, drunkenly, forgot anti-spider precausion an sat down for one of those magic pisses that seem to go on for about ten minutes. Finished, and only then realised I'd forgotten to check for creepies. Being a kind friend, I thought I'd check anyway for maria and kicked up the seat, to find, at the bottom of the bowl, a severely pissed-off looking, and very soggy cane toad (they're massive) with a piece of wet toilet paper perched on its head.

Horror soon turned to absolute hilarity at the unfortunate amphibian, and all the girls from the bar ended up cuing to have a look and the poor wet beast.

(appologies for length, of wee, to the toad)
(Gert-Big-Robot-Gal, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 14:44, Reply)

Reading
Arrived onto Reading festival site (backstage) desperate for a piss. I hate festivals as it is, but being female and needing the loo is a damn site worse. I wandered miserably over to the loos to find...
LUXURY PORTALOOS!
Who knew they existed?
Paintings on the walls, wooden toilet seats, the lot. They even had hand lotion.
It was the happiest day of my life to date.
( Madam Marlboro wonders if you've found her yet, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 13:40, Reply)

The most pissed I have ever been...
...was on a company night out in Coventry. I tried drinking a few cans of that super-strength cider which is usually reserved for fueling land speed record attempts and then went onto the beer. The two liquids didn't sit happily and so I was feeling very groggy by the time we got to the restaurant. I managed to eat about one chip before I wobbled into the lavs and sat down feeling very ill, but slightly more in need of a shit than a puke. Of course, that state of affairs rapidly went into reverse, far faster than I could change position to accomodate and so I was forced to try puking between my legs into the bowl. Have you ever tried cleaning the puke out of your pubes when the only thing to hand is bog-roll?
(DrDerekDoctors, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 13:34, Reply)

Peeping Toms
A few years back some friends and I, being the juvenile delinquents that we WERE, were hangning around town with sod all to do. We weren't into beating up grannies as the current trend is nowa days.

So, one girl decides she needs the toilet, we trundle over to the crumbling mess of a shed that represents the public loos. The entrance to the girls side has one door, a small porch and then another door to the main excretion area. While little miss was doing her thing, we stayed just outside. One of us said "Ey, wouldn't it be freaky if there was some guy with a peep hole eh?".

I look up. There in the porch ceiling was a square block of wood leading to the space in the roof. Little miss returns and we tell her. She is freaked and wants us to check up there. Climb on the tallest guys shoulders, slowly lift the wood and use the light from my phone to look around.

A mattress, hyperdermic needles, holes looking down into the toilets, no sign of a bloke, horrible stench of old sex and shit, and worst of all a sleeping bag and a jacket right in my face covered in somthing crusty.

Needless to say I told the tall guy to put me down. Then I watched little miss squirm when I told her. Nice...
(Feelslikehome, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 13:05, Reply)

They really must put something in the water around here...
First post here so bear with me. I've been waiting for the right time to put this story on the interweb.

For the sake of anonymity I shall call this person 'Darren'. 'Darren' being a rather large sheepshagger from Wales.

While at a friends house party Darren turns up and announces to us his spectacular idea for a prank that evening:
'O boys, ive got a great idea! Lets nick a frying pan, we all shit in it, cook it up and eat it!'.
After careful deliberation on this matter, we all decided that it was in our best interests to sadly say 'No' to Darren on his plan.

Anyway, as the night goes on and much beer is consumed by all we assumed that Darren had forgetten about his brilliant idea. So there we were, in my friends bedroom drinking and talking and whatnot and just generally having a good time.

Suddenly Darren enters holding a frying pan containing what looked and smelt like a large, freshly-laid turd. Upon scooping said turd-like substance onto a biscuit and performing a taste test, Darren was able to confirm that it was, indeed, his own large, freshly-laid turd.

My other friend who owns the house (and the frying pan) comes up the stairs just in time to witness this and throws Darren out of his house. All the while Darren was protesting his innocence claiming that the pan 'will be fine after you've washed it! good enough to eat out of!'

Darren ended up spending the night outside in his car, and must have woken up with the worst morning breath ever.
I dont know (or care) what became of the frying pan.

Apologies for length but it is my first time.

EDIT: I've just realised that this has very little (actually nothing) to do with toilets, whatsosever.
(33% God, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 12:22, Reply)

One lovely day while staying late at school to study,
I made my way over to one of the girl's bathrooms. I heard odd noises, shuffling, squeaking, etc, and it became pretty obvious what was happening. I could see two sets of feet in the stall next to me. Quite amused, I waited until things sounded like they were coming to a peak. I then knocked on the wall between us, stuck my hand under the stall and sweetly asked for some toilet paper. After a lengthy and confused silence, they actually handed me some. How kind.
Oh, and I live in North Carolina, and our stalls are called Hiney Hiders too. yay!
( trintrin has jam for blood, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 12:22, Reply)

Poor kitty
Today I have awoken with a sense of mild shame, and feel it is my duty to confess.

Last night I went to a barbeque at my friend's parents' new house. After several tins of wifebeater had been tucked away I politely enquired of my friend's mother the whereabouts of the lavatory.

She directed me into the house but warned me that they had two new kittens who were being kept shut in the hall by the toilet this evening, for fear of wandering into the garden and being trodden on by drunken oafs such as myself, and so to be sure not to let them out.

I wandered through the new house feeling rather impressed with it to be honest, a vast improvement on their old place. Then I reached the french doors leading to the aforementioned hall by the toilet, opened them, and nearly fell over.

The most appalling, overwhelming, sickening stench of cat shit I have ever smelt. These two dirty bastard cats had filled their litter tray with shite, evidently it hadn't been emptied to their satisfaction as they had proceeded to extrude soggy turds all around it on the carpet. However the culprits were nowhere to be seen.

I walked into the toilet, and found them. One was on the floor looking up at me quizically, the other was sat on the edge of the toilet seat giving me evils and twitching its tail. And they smelt every bit as bad as the contents of their little anuses.

I couldn't be arsed to get them out so I proceeded to have a piss anyway, which fascinated the one perched on the edge of the pan. It stared transfixed at the stream of piss, adopting that position cats get into when they're about to charge and leap onto a toy/mouse/your hand/etc.

Suddenly I experienced a moment of loathing for this small, smelly, toilet-fascinated creature, and the discomfort it had was causing me.

So I raised my aim and pissed directly into its face.
(Ali Bongo 9000 Ali Bongo 9000, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 11:54, Reply)

my favorite childhood book.......
curious george and the outhouse of doom
( Reme Philips laid an epic dump on, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 11:46, Reply)

Toilets are handy
places really.....

and handy I did usey....

After one particuarly saucey messanger conversation with a very foxy bloke, I just needed to sort my er....frustrations out. Not normally a big deal if your sat at home...but when your at work.....different story. So the only place to go and 'knock one out' was the toilets. Yum.

Thanks for that one Oaksey!
(Oops....did I say that out loud cos I really bloody want to., Sun 4 Sep 2005, 11:10, Reply)

Hospital toilets
I'm currently doing a rotation in the Western Infirmary hospital in Glasgow. The public toilets have UV lights throughout, mainly to stop junkies finding nice healthy veins and shooting up in the middle of the hospital. I think it's also to stop people having bumsex in the toilets, cause the lights are bloody irritating enough when you're trying to do a poo.
( Fudgebags will wear you like a glove, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 11:05, Reply)

Food poisoning
Back a few years when I were but a nipper I went on one of those activity weeks with my school. On the last day we all enjoyed a merry barbeque, and then crowded into the same dormitory for a weird mass sleepover type thing. Fell asleep perfectly happily.

2am and I have a rumbling... I'm about to be sick. Dashing to the loo I trip over Ben, but make it in time for the puking. Ten minutes or so later I think it's all over, and retire to bed.

It wasn't over.

Dashing back to the loo again mere moments after returning, I trip over Ben once more but make it to the loo where I chundered whole spaghetti hoops. It wasn't until the following day I realised that I hadn't eaten spaghetti hoops in quite some weeks. Most weird. Once more, I decide that I've done enough and retire again, only for the same twinge and Ben-tripping as before.

This time I don't make it to the loo but instead decorate the cubicle. I decide to spend my night in the same place admiring my handiwork.

Ben never did like me much after that. He thought I was waking him up on purpose by kicking him and running away like a wuss.
(Captain Skippy pooed in a bag and left it on your doorstep, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 8:49, Reply)

In the Northwest US, not sure about anywhere else...
The company that makes the stalls is called Hiney Hiders.
(Luna loves you., Sun 4 Sep 2005, 6:29, Reply)

I remember...
The end of Return of the King. That is... the run to the bogs at the end of it. Near as I can tell, that's the closest I've ever been to a collective religious experience as all the men emptied their overfilled bladders to sounds of relief and murmured prayers to whatever deity they believed in. Then, to round it off, my and my mates tried to get back to mine, only to find the car had a
( jim_bob can herd cats., Sun 4 Sep 2005, 4:11, Reply)

Bogs with a view
Have to point out the irony of a bar in Kowloon, Hong Kong - it's up on the top floor of a hotel overlooking Hong Kong harbour (beautiful view). Meanwhile when all the well paid bankers etc. need to relieve themselves they retreat to the back of the building where the view is of the poorer Kowloon area - the urinal is all glass so you get to piss on all the poor people of Kowloon. The stalls are so finally carved marble they have a flunky to show you where the doors are. Of course you get distracted when the american tourists wander round with their video cameras filming it seems litteraly everything.

The alternative for high level relief is SAS Business Class - an aircraft loo with a view of the clouds going past.....

Lets face it with a tag like mine I had to post on this topic!
(Copraphag, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 2:10, Reply)

toilets - the only place to change the gaskets of a Ford C4 transmission during a severe thunderstorm
While on holiday in the beautiful Southern Victorian town of Torquay (near Bell's Beach), my brother's car that we were travelling in developed a bad leak in it's automatic gearbox. As the caravan park proprietors weren't overly keen on the guests rebuilding vehichles next to their caravans on the grass, we thought the gaskets could be replaced at the local garage. Unfortunately, this was Sunday, so it was closed but we had to have it fixed because we were leaving the next day. Waiting until midnight, the transmission was removed from the car and carried into the toilet block. When placed on the toilet bowl, if you were kneeling, it was easy to remove the pan and replace the gasket and the old transmission fluid drained into the bowl! Perfect, almost like that's what toilets had been designed for.
I would have loved to have seen the cleaners face the next day - transmission fluid is red and the old gasket had disintergated into dark red fibous lumps.
(peewee13, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 2:03, Reply)

Do showers in campsites count?
A bunch of us were camping in the New Forest. This campsite had a shower/toilet block on site, wasn't in a bad state of repair considering.

I walked in one evening for a piss and a guy was waiting outside one of the shower cubicles for his two young sons. One of them suddenly shouts "Dad, I need a poo!" fine says the dad, come out and have one. The sound of straining was heard from the cubicle, and the kid suddenly shouted "its ok Dad, I can catch it with my hands!"

The poor dad started almost tearfully hammering on the door to get the kid out before he shits in the shower. I left quickly before he dragged the shitty arsed little urchin out.

And pop goes the posting cherry!
(danlondonny, Sun 4 Sep 2005, 1:03, Reply)