Birthing placenta
My friend told me lots of things I didn't need to know about childbirth:
- after giving birth to the baby you have to give birth to the placenta. It is as big as the baby and just like birthing a huge peice of liver (and it tastes like liver too).
- breast milk tastes very sweet - much much sweeter than cows milk.
(themothers, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 19:10, Reply)

My (female) boss. Aged 40.
An already awkward walk back from Marks and Spencer's where we had been buying a buffet for the office.

Me: (scrabbling for conversation with a woman I neither respect nor like) "Sunny, isn't it?"
Her: "Oh God, yes, I have to get waxed!"
Me: "Oh...right" (scared to fuck, ew boss legs, hairy boss legs blegggh)
Her: "Yeah, I always go to the same woman. She even waxed my bikini line when I was eight months pregnant!"
(Time slows. I struggle to supply a response. Oh shit, say something. Say something!! Er...) But it was too late :(
Her: "....yeah, imagine it, me on all fours..."
Me: "Oh God...yeah...imagine! Yuck!"

Not only was that far too much information, I managed to offend my boss' soon-to-birth, stubbly mimsy.

The remainder of the walk was silent.
(Northern Lovely, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 18:47, Reply)

Hint.
Profile.
( stuj (^(^;;^)^) GO TEAM SPIDERS!(^(^;;^)^), Fri 7 Sep 2007, 18:44, Reply)

A few years back...
In the scummy school girl's toilets populated by girls that were the embodiment of vicky pollard in her fattest form. I was standing waiting for a friend, when I heard a loud conversation between three of such girls:
Girl 1: "I'm only wearing two pads this month!"
Girl 2: "You wha?"
Girl 3: "Do we really need to know? you slag!"
Girl 1: "Fuck Off! It's just that normally I wear three, but the problem with that was they got stuck up my ass like a wedgie, and when I walked they felt all squidgy! So two's better.."
Girl 2 and 3: "Ohh I know that squidgy feeling! fucking orrible!"

At which point, my friend came out of the toilet, she'd heard too and we both hurried to leave as the "squidgy feeling" conversation continued. Needless to say, I have never been able to look at those girls the same way. Too much info? - I think so.
(ladyflash Formally known as "oshi_", Fri 7 Sep 2007, 18:35, Reply)

Here's some fireworks, and here are my cracked nipples
Once year, some of our mates were having a Bonfire Night party. Which was great, as each year they'd get in around 300 quids' worth of fireworks and just go crazy.

And despite their brand-new baby, they still got in a load of fireworks, and wanted to go crazy.

But aside from their happily child-free mates, they also invited their entire antenatal group. Which meant that rather than talking about the latest TV show/films/gigs or enjoying how close a particular rocket got to the roof, there were conversations about episiotomy scars, cracked and bleeding nipples, forceps deliveries, the contents and consistency of their precious child's excrement, and so forth.

It's a shame my doctor doesn't do home visits -- I would've booked for sterilisation that day.
( Sydney Bintstow, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 18:26, Reply)

Not me, but--
My friend--Hanibal is his name, was recounting his sexual conquests loudly in a packed pub:

"...Did I ever tell you about when my grandma walked in to see my brown ass pounding her rear vigorously while her wrists and ankles were cuffed to the bedposts?"

Errr, no, but I've got the picture now, thanks.

This may not be too bad, but the parents seem to think that every mealtime is the ideal occasion to talk about diarrhoea, indigestion, hocking up gobs of mucous, etc.

At this rate I think someone would have to slap a bloody mangled spleen on my plate before I'd get put off a meal.
(Rem Sir, why are you thrashing about on the floor?, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 18:18, Reply)

Living up to my username
The young lady who stayed at mine last night has just text me saying she has spent this afternoon at her Doctors due to vaginal tearing caused by the last evenings exertions.




Length ?

She's had too have it stitched !

Woo Yay for me !
(kickstandrich last had sex with your mum/sister/wife/daughter on, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 17:49, Reply)

The Smell of Beer
About 16 or so years ago, we were all down the pub on our regular Thursday night drinking session from college. I had a pint of bitter in front of me on the table. A friend of mine and Mrs Lunatics shouted "What's that?" "Pint of bitter" I replied, hoping that she was asking in order to get me another. Instead, she picked up the pint, sniffed it and shouted all over the pub, "Eughh! It smells like sweaty knickers when you're 'on!' " We all shrank back in our chairs, covering our faces whilst she went to the bar for another Diamond White.
(Taunting Lunatics Belming at you since, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 16:54, Reply)

Another vasectomy or 'My brother's aubergines'
My older brother's vasectomy (a necessity due to his six kids and his unwillingness to leave his wife alone) went terribly wrong and he ended up with a badly inflamed pair of nuts that strongly resembled two aubergines.

Always one to get his roll-of-carpet-style cock out and wave it for the slightest reason, those balls where in everyone's face. Only my wife, who threatened to wallop them with her keys if he came close, was spared this ordeal.

Eventually the infection turned very bad, he developed a new third-testical-like growth and became very depressed (compounded by the six kids), scratched his eyebrows off and lost himself in a haze of anti-depressants and recreational substances.

He ended going mental after a cocktail of drugs and booze and, after scaling the house, falling off the roof and breaking his foot he tried to murder his wife who only managed to stop him strangling her by biting his long, manically protruding tongue.

This was all too much information for my middle class in-laws who are not at all happy about being tied to a Jeremy Kyle episode by wedlock and remain convinced that my brother's kids will all become a mob loons, druggists and hookers.

The upside is, I can now pull any old shit and always look good compared to my brother.
(mudflaps, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 16:53, Reply)

In a similar vein
to rachelswipe's turd story, my dad delights in recalling a story from his youth in which he dropped such a large one that it got stuck in the pan, and he had to use his mother's bread knife to cut it into flushable pieces.

I wasn't too keen on eating bread at my gran's after hearing that, even 30 years after the event.

And another one - my mate Marcus and two of his pals once rented a holiday house up in the Highlands for a week. They decided to see how long they could go without flushing the toilet.

Three days, as it happens.

At this point the situation became somewhat problematic, as they were faced with a steaming pile of shite protruding from the top of the pan. Lack of forethought had prevented them from considering just how they would dispose of the pile once the experiment had run to completion.

In the event they had to use sticks to mash it up enough such that they could flush it away. A lovely tale for a Friday afternoon.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 16:47, Reply)

women, nurses , feck! Drink!
TMI? must be a woman, in my experience if you don`t show manly squeamishness the wedge gets a lot thicker, and and any subsequent "I am at my limits " signs are totally ignored.

The special case is nurses.
Any chap who has been out with a nurse has experienced that special level of disconection from their conversation to actually what they are describing. I have a certain level of tolerance caused by clamping pictorial imagination off.

Item 1 wedding, bride is a nurse, hubby has had the inoculations. wedding reception, main table, huddle, 2 nursey friends, loud conversation about vaginal discharge, what`s the starter? seafood platter, perfect, I couldn`t attend as I was stuck working, I just got the sniggers from a girly mate who could. I could have surfed through that one, just

I got hit once for "you`ve got thrush? and put my ear on her fanny, "cant hear it singing, perhaps it`s dead, needs to come out smells a bit dead " condoms leave you niceley unworried, but there was a a bit of whiff.

Item 2 friend from school worked in A+E in a big essex hossie, saturday, guy brought in with an old style brass curtain ring round his willy, the all in oune like a giants wedding ring sort. Dangerous unless the swelling can be stopped it has to be removed within a certain time or whole set of things I blanked and trashed that affect your old chap forever happen.

But it was the graphic description of the cutting it off procedure she gave, one false move and ohmigod.

Item 3 nurse i knew as a an acquaintance, asked me if i`d like to know her in the biblical sense, and partway through chat gave me a verbal masterclass in anal sex, including what can go wrong and how much damage can be done. " hang on are you saying you like that? It`s one thing that I won`t do, there is perfectly engineered thing fit for purpose next door" no its one of the reasons I divorced my husband, he tried it on just after we were married, no way. ( i`d been beginning to think I was being given an instruction manual for later)


tempting, ( no the normal bit!) the g/f was very late (2 hours from working 800metres away, her phone not answered, then off) it was her abusive calls to me overheard that prompted the offer. I was very angry so we went clubbing instead, and I went home (fantasy regrets, but you have to stick to the agreed faithful script through thick and thin, dont you?)
(tootired Is searching for a funny sig, nothing good so far, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 16:42, Reply)

right then, vasectomy story
When I was 23 my then wife and I announced that she was pregnant with what would be our third child. My mum offered to pay for a vasectomy and booked me into the Marie Stopes clinic as i was too young to get one on the NHS.

So I turn up for the appointment to first have counselling ("Do you want a vasectomy" "yes" "are you sure" "yes" "what if one of your children dies and you can't replace it?" "another child wouldn't be able to replace it" "ok go through the door then") followed by the procedure.

The doctor was a funny bloke (or at least he thought he was): as he was giving me the local he said "you may feel a small prick".

there was a little old lady nurse whose job it was to take my mind off the fact that there is a bloke with a sharp knife fiddling with my bollocks.
"So," she says, "have you been following the snooker?"
"No"
"What about the football?"
"No, don't follow football"
"Wimbledon?"
"No, look can we stop talking about ball games please?"

There follows an uncomfortable silence during which the doctor comments that a lot of men ask for a mirror on the ceiling so they can watch the op. I assure him i am not that sort of bloke.

The vas wasn't tied, it was cauterised. At this point I discovered that I hadn't been given enough anaesthetic as what felt like 10000 volts were sent through my balls.

After they had coaxed me off the ceiling and given me some more anaesthetic the rest of the operation passed without incident but once I got home it was fun explaining to the kids why I was sat with a bag of frozen peas over my crotch.
(bald old git was bemused and befuddled on, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 16:31, Reply)

Its when it buries you, you have a problem
Time management has always been a concept that has remained foreign to me. It has eluded me for years, and somehow I feel as though I will never quite grasp it. After all, given the choice between doing an essay that has to be handed in in 2 months, or going out and getting trolleyed, the choice is very simple.
And so, this pattern carried on until two days before said essay needed to be handed in.

SHIT! I thought to myself one lazy Wednesday morning. And so with a new found determination, I started to type furiously. "Its Ok" I thought "as long as I work on it all today, tonight and tomorrow I can get it done in reasonable shape for Friday." As last minute plans go, it wasn't a bad one...that is until my housemates decided that an impromptu house party was in order.

I couldn't believe it. I could have actually killed them. "YOU'RE HAVING A HOUSE PARTY...TONIGHT? I HAVE AN ESSAY TO DO FOR FRIDAY, I DONT HAVE ANY OF THE BOOKS I NEED, AND YOU'RE HAVING A HOUSE PARTY!" It was like they'd planned it to piss me off.

And so, while everyone else was downstairs having a good time, I locked myself in my room trying to ignore the bass vibrating the entire house and attempted to write an essay about something I knew very little. It was no good, I couldn't think. With a steely determination not to have any fun I went to bed with the promise of waking up early and carrying on the next day.

Morning broke. All was quiet. Excellent. I got up and opened the door out onto the landing when I was met with...about 200 text books cascading into my room like an avalanche of epic proportions. Turns out after me shouting at them, my housemates felt a bit guilty and decided to help me out. So they went to the library with everybody from the party with the aim of getting the textbooks I needed. Problem was that despite living with them for two years, nobody could remember what course I was studying, so they just got textbooks spanning as many subjects as they could lay their hands on. All of which were now strewn across my room. And that was when I recieved WAY too much information.

Incredibly, within the carnage that was now my room, in the middle of all the useless shit they'd brought back they had actually managed to get the exact books I needed
( Furness, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 16:27, Reply)

My cousin Ben is a nasty cunt
Have you ever been asked to attend to an unflushable turd that you have been told is covered up by the culprit only to find it is in full view site and is bigger than John Holmes penis. Then as a joke told him to take a photo and for him not only to do it but show it to his unsuspecting mum and stepdad? Didn't think so, Ben you went to far and scarred me for life.
(Joey Stall, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 16:19, Reply)

...and while we're about it...
An ex of mine, had a problem with her back business - something a bit like piles, perhaps some kind of an anal fissure. She didn't tell me.

However, she DID tell me that it might have stemmed from straining too hard whilst having a dump.

Cheers, love. Put me right off rimming her, that did. Well, for a while at least.
( CaptainCrackerjack live trout, slow motion, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 16:15, Reply)

Mother in law. Poo. Kitchen floor. Wrong.
You know how sometimes people feel the need to spell things out even though it's patently obvious what has happened and it'd be better for all parties concerned if it just remained unspoken? Not really a case of TMI, just a social nicety to prevent people from having to acknowledge certain things.

Well. GF's mother. Really violent attack of the runs. Shit on kitchen floor.

It was OBVIOUS why I shouldn't go in there, as she'd rushed to the loo, and there was newspaper on the floor in the kitchen. Didn't stop her telling me afterwards, though :(
( CaptainCrackerjack live trout, slow motion, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 16:14, Reply)

eeeeow
can't believe all the arse hair posts that followed mine. reminds me of one of my beloved, cultured father's favourite comments - namely that a man's arse hairs (women not having hairy butts, naturally) are just the roots of his eyelashes, which travel all the way down inside his body and poke out of his bum. to anyone looking at him in disbelief, or indeed weary resignation, which he chooses to take as disbelief so he can give the punchline, he says gleefully, "and if you don't believe me, tug one. it'll make your eyes water."

this is bad enough. but the other night my friend and i took our dads out to dinner. they hadn't met before, but both are recently widowed and we thought, one doctor, one banker, they're civilised, both play golf, bound to get on. conversation was pleasant, if a little stilted at first. until anne and i went to the bar. we came back to hear my dad roaring one of his favourite banking anecdotes about his boss from the dark ages when he was a young banker (or the "1960s" as he calls it):

"the turd was so big that we had to get the doorman in to break it up into pieces with one of those metal measuring rulers".

ffs. the entire restaurant did not need to know that... noone needed to know that...
( rachelswipe with a fork, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 16:08, Reply)

Vasectomy time?
Ya know, I had it done back in 1993 and I never had any of these terrible results I read about in here- for one thing, they never went near the testicles, but made a tiny incision in the base of my cock and removed about a half centimeter of the vas deferens. It was painful for a week and uncomfortable for about two weeks more, but that was about it. (Although I have to admit, during that month I was not even remotely tempted to go for a wank.)

However, the day after my surgery I returned to work, walking a bit carefully. One of my friends asked me what happened, and I quietly admitted to him that I had had a vasectomy. At the time we were in the grocery store at the salad bar, so I kept my voice low as I said it.

He chuckled and said, "Well, now you have something else in common with your dog."

I replied, "Well, not really. I got to keep mine, and I can't quite reach to lick the scar."

He quietly said "Get away from me" and bolted.

It was hours before he would even speak to me.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Fri 7 Sep 2007, 16:04, Reply)

The same bloke
who had the infected vasectomy problem, also told me a story about a girl he'd pulled many years ago, who was somewhat lacking in class and sophitication, not to mention personal hygiene. He was about to go down on her, but she said, "Ye dinnae want to go down there pal - it's mingin'".

Fuelled with testosterone, he continued regardless. Although this soon proved not to be such a good idea...

Relating the tale, his comment to the assembled audience of me and a bunch of mates was, "I'll tell ye what boys - she wisnae wrong!"
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 16:04, Reply)

This subject came up .....
Was talking about this very subject in the pub with mate last night.

He was asked at school by some weird kid

"Have you ever had a violent wank with swiss cheese and lasagne?"
(Tim K, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 15:52, Reply)

Yeast infection
Okay, the subject of an intensely irritated twat isn't necessarily confined to Gordon Ramsey programmes. I accept that being a man of the world I accept that sometimes even the most delicate of ladies may need to splash out on a tube of Canesten at one point or another. Really, it's fine.

However, when your date for the evening has been making promises of the horizontal night of your life I cannot help losing my ardour when she suddenly exclaims "Oh I regularly get outbreaks of thrush. The end results looks like something you could spread on a slice of toast".

That event was some years ago and the memory still brings me out in a cold sweat. It was weeks before I could touch yoghurt again.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Fri 7 Sep 2007, 15:29, Reply)

vasectomies- true story so help me god, names changed
Just the word can cause involuntary leg crossing, there are too many nerve endings down there.

Several years ago where I worked the guys in early forties had had their 2.8 kids and had the op.

One guy was thinking of it and talking it over ( that was bad enough) )
The chap had a stress stutter, his surname began with a C, i`ll say conrad but that`s not it and his nickname was similarly derived as onrad, "why do you call him onrad? it saves time". nice guy would end up in fits of the giggles when it hit after he`d finally spat the phrase out


He has been off had the snip, everyone knew first day back on light duties, late shift, there are 3 of us working including phil main counsel, when the victim enters. Furious!

(I cant do it justice as it will take too long and too many punctuation tricks)

" PHIL! YOU C-C_C COMPLETE B-B_Bastard! you nevef F F F Fucking told me my B B Bollocks would turn B B BLACK!!!!! C C C C Cunt!!!!!!"

Read that with up to 20 secs of the big letters ending up as a little repetitive popping noise.

we were all tea through the nose laughing especially as the victim said its not funny , laughing himself and then says laughing makes them ache. The full story later wiped all humour away. ouch.
(tootired Is searching for a funny sig, nothing good so far, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 15:29, Reply)

Arse hair
Has anyone got their arse hair in such a tangle that it makes their poo look like it's coming out of a Playdoh barber toy?
(Jimmydoodaa, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 15:14, Reply)

Photo Album
A kid i know has a full eye watering album of pictures that he has taken of himself sat on various toilets. Whenever he visits a new one he takes a shot of himself with his phone camera and delights in showing them to all and sundry. Even he doesn't know why. A different friend of mine likes taking photos of particularly impressive turds he has done. The best according to him is one of a dump whos head can be seen rising Loch ness monster like from the water while the bottom of it disappears round the U bend.
Length about a foot and a half
(andythepieman Is surfing the waves of indifference on, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 15:13, Reply)

Quite literally "Too much information", the underwriter told me so.
I used to be an admin monkey in life assurance. One of the perks of the job was to read about other people’s embarrassing medical problems, I read about so many "anal fissures" it stopped being amusing.

Anyhoo, one day we received an application for life assurance from one of the salesmen, this wasn’t unusual as staff members got a discount and it was always interesting to read the juicy details about people you knew as opposed to faceless members of the public.

We knew we were in for a treat when we saw that the salesmen had stapled shut the "medical history" section of the application booklet, and when I say stapled shut, I mean he had used about 20 staples around the edges to seal the pages together.

So out came the staple remover, and by now there was a crowd of co-workers gathered around my desk to see what was so embarrassing that it had to be sealed away from prying eyes with a half ton of steel....

The last staple was removed and the pages were pulled apart and I read aloud to the rabble surrounding me, "I have recently completed a course of antibiotics to treat a throat infection I caught whilst giving my girlfriend oral sex"...

A cry of "ewwww" went up, sandwiches were returned to lunchboxes, a female manager muttered "dirty bitch" and stomped off and an underwriter informed me that it really wasn’t necessary to know the cause of the throat infection.
( Colonel Dracula Two manky hookers and a racist dwarf, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 14:57, Reply)

More on arse hairs
Never had an ingrowing one, but on occasion two of my arse hairs from opposite cheeks manage to knit themselves together. When I sit down for a crap, the action of arse cheek separation causes the tension to increase until one pulls out.

Hurts like buggery.

Disclaimer: Not that I've had any experience of buggery, it's just a figure of speech
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 14:57, Reply)

More advice for Dads-to-be
Further to this...

What is going to happen to you is very exciting. You'll see things that you never have before, and experience intense emotions.

However, you must remember that much of what to you seems amazing, miraculous, unique and so forth is, for most other men either a) old hat (if they've been through it themselves) and/or b) gross (whether they have or not).

Things that other men want to know about the arrival of your 'little miracle':

1) Is it a boy or a girl and (if they're a close friend) what you're thinking about calling it
2) Is it, and the mother, healthy
3) When are you going to get another round in

Things that other men most certainly don't want to know:

1) Anything that 'went wrong' or was in any way abnormal (e.g. anything regarding excess blood, placenta, the womb...)
2) How long it took and what pain relief your partner required
3) Any surgical procedures that were necessary before, during or after birth
4) What meconium is, or what it looks or smells like

If you're talking to a woman, then you can however disregard all of the above and go into as much detail as you can possibly recall -- they love it!
( reallywittyname veraciously conspues lexiphanicism on, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 14:55, Reply)

arse hairs
yep, I used to get ingrowing hairs too

just to give you too much information I solved the problem by getting my wife to pluck them

now that is love for you
(bald old git was bemused and befuddled on, Fri 7 Sep 2007, 14:54, Reply)