This has JUST happened…
It is the last day of work before the Christmas holidays. There is nothing to do but make up the numbers. Girls are going about with Santa Hats on, the Xmas CD is playing, the chocolates are being handed out…jovial behaviour all round…you get the picture.

Because there is nothing to do, I thought I’d make myself scarce. Sloping off to the toilets to read some B3ta posts and play Solitaire on my phone ensures that I can get a good 30 minutes ‘me’ time (they’re lucky to have me aren’t they?). I won’t be disturbed…result.

So I’m sat there, the actual toilet ‘activity’ is concluded in a surprisingly short amount of time. Now there’s no point in continuing to sit there with my trollies round my ankles but it’s still way too early to go back to the office; so I flush, pull up my trousers etc and sit back down to continue with the game.

Another 10 minutes pass by…my guts stir a bit…and I think to myself: ‘Well…I’m in the right place…’

And I promptly proceed to shit my pants. A big, runny, sub-atomic dump.

“AAAAARRRGHHHH” I scream (in my head) as I desperately scramble to rip off my kex. I now have no alternative but to survey the ‘damage’.

‘Please don’t be too bad, please don’t be too bad’ I murmour as I beseech the gods of feaces-related chaos to be kind.

As I peel open my undercrackers and peek into the gusset…

The scene is one of total devestation. I have no alternative but to start the long and arduous cleanup process.

I start to frantically wipe and rub with an ever increasing panic (induced by the fact that it doesn’t seem to be making any difference). I have to keep stopping as other people come in to use the lavvies and the walls are as thin as the bog roll that is rapidly running out in my stall.

I haven’t even got to checking my arse yet…as I grab the last wad of roll, I begin to wipe my crack, forgetting the fact that shit is now completely splattered across my entire arse. ‘Oh god, NOOOO!’ I sigh as I stare at my brown-slush covered hand.

I then think to check my Jeans…at this point I would gladly sell my soul and testicles for there to be an untainted pair on the floor.

It’s just not my day. The force of the blast went straight through my tattered grots and splashed a huge stain down the back of my jeans.

And now I have no more bog roll….I have to take a chance…

Covered in shit, crap-caked kex and pants still round my ankles, stinking to high heaven and wondering how this could possibly happen to me, I have to try and switch to the trap next door.

I gently unlock the door and open it. ‘If someone walks in now, I will quit my job…I mean it…I’ll walk…never to return.’ I promise myself as I waddle from cubicle to cubicle.

As I sit down again, I check for loo-roll…Loads of it…’Thank god’ I mutter as I restart the rubbing / wiping / cursing my own existence.

As I fill up my second toilet with spent bum-wad, I slowly come to the conclusion that there is no easy way out of this…I have to ask myself the questions that no man should ever have to do in his lifetime…

Do I discard the pappered boxers? If so, where? What if I try and flush them and they block the bog?

I decide to keep on rubbing away….after a while it looks like there is no more that can be wiped and there is nothing more than a grotesque stain on my clothes…by which time I have noticed suspicious-looking marks on my WHITE shirt!

God hates me…that’s what it is…

It’s now time for my leap of faith…or as close as I can get to a 'leap' considering my legs are numb by this time. I am as ‘clean’ as I can be (given the circumstances) and I have to pull up the offending garments.

Despite my best efforts…there’s still a ‘squelch’. By Christ it’s uncomfortable. I scrub my hands and arms raw before checking my reflection in the toilet mirrors. I then cross my fingers, hope for the best and make my shit-splattered way back to my desk.

So now I’m sitting here…some people are asking what the smell is…Yet people keep coming up to me and gathering round to wish me a happy Christmas…You know what I wish?...I wish they would all fuck off and leave me alone to stink in peace. I do not plan to move before I leave for home…but it gets worse…as I type, my crap-factory is starting to gurgle again…the outlook is bleak...

So, whatever terrible things may be happening to all you B3tards out there right now…consider this...

It could be worse…..you could be me.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Fri 21 Dec 2007, 12:37, 27 replies)

Eeeekk!
What the hell have you been eating?

Tucking into sprouts early? Or too many liqueur chocolates?
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 12:41, closed)

As soon as I started to read this
I knew it was going to be a Pooflake story, even though the name was off the bottom of my monitor.

Top tale, sir. I have spluttered Diet Irn Bru all over my laptop now.

Have a Christmas click!
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 12:43, closed)

Blimey
Haha, sorry to hear of your troubles.

I've clicked, but I'm not really sure "I like this" covers the things I'm feeling right now!
(Professor Kenny Martin Hmm? What?, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 12:44, closed)

Genuinely, gut-wrenchingly funny
I don't mean to take great mirth in your misfortune, Pooflake, but by god that was a classic even by your standards!

*click*
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 21 Dec 2007, 12:44, closed)

^^ Chickenlady...

Loads of chocolate and a badly heated cornish pasty...

Mind you, yesterday I had a dodgy sausage 'casserole' thing.

*Prays that explains all the red stuff that I was wiping*
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Fri 21 Dec 2007, 12:45, closed)

Shit!! Literally
Approaching the bottom of the m50 this morning.

On the phone to a mate discussing tonights pea soup.

I let a fart out. Only its not a fart but about a tablespoon of the stinkiest shit I think I've ever produced....quickly into the glove box for tissues to stuff down.

I know the keks are a gonner but I may be able to save the trousers. All this at 80mph.

services 1 mile away...god I hope it hasnt seeped thru on the walk to the bog...

Luckily?? it was a shared toilet so there was a 'waste' bin next to it, dumped the kex and spent until now 'commando'

ropey cheese and veg pastie yesterday me thinks...
(never-right -getting it wrong since '78, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 12:49, closed)

You've made my day
I was 'wasting' time earlier myself by playing mobile games on the crapper too, while everyone in the office finished off the quality street.
I came away with mild ring-rash from wiping too much, but you have put all that into perspective.
My hat is off to you sir.
(the noggin causes laxative effects, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 12:56, closed)

Pooflake by name and pooflake by nature
You and Rachealswipe should get together and swap poo related japes.

I still don't understand how you couldn't get your pants down quick enough when you knew you were going to have a poo.
( girlinthehole, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 12:59, closed)

Mr Pooflake...
Not only does that deserve to win this QotW, but it also deserves to win the entire t'interwebz.

*click*
*click again*
*and again* I don't know if it'll make any difference, but it's the thought that counts even if it doesn't.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:05, closed)

BGB
From the description, it's Pooflake by name and Poolake by nature...
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:11, closed)

BGB
I think we should add Humpty into that mix....just imagine the poo japes then!

Actually I'd rather not imagine them, not on a full stomach anyway.
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:20, closed)

Go home!
Just complain of gutache (not quite a lie), blame the smell on a gaseous discharge caused by said gutache and GO HOME!

But still - *clicky* for honesty and the fact I nearly shat myself while reading that post. I now know who the other b3tard is in the office by the fact neither of us can stop giggling.
(Dionysian Aut viam inveniam aut faciam, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:27, closed)

For the Win!
I had to chew on my mouse to stop an onset of giggles.
(rarr, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:29, closed)

hmm
Pooflake, I would say your full of shit, but reading that clearly your not anymore.
(Halfy By light alone, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 13:33, closed)

So horrid it's funny
And now, half the office are doing the silent shoulder shrugging laughing that you do when you're supposed to be working and trying so hard not to laugh out loud. I think I even managed a little tear I was giggling so much.

*clicks*

Think it may well take more than two weeks to find anything funnier
(lardyboy Next stop, Fissplap Central, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 14:30, closed)

Without fail
the stories about Poo are the funniest ones...
(stubbledchin, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 14:31, closed)

God hates you?
That's what you get for saying "Jehovah".




Even as I type I can feel a sympathetic colonic reaction. Clench man cle
(osok Rebel without a clue, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 15:33, closed)

Holy crap!
Immodium, man, Immodium! Stat!

Pooflake, did you forget you'd pulled your pants up? Er, trousers up?

Seriously, just tie your jacket around your waist, tell them the internet nurse said you were really sick and might be contagious and GO HOME!


What is it with British GI tracts? I had never in my life heard of following through and neither has anyone I've asked. But you guys do it all the time. Can't you tell when you're going to have the squits? Is the food that bad?

PS. Wash your hands constantly, esp before you pick up the baby in case it wasn't dodgy food. /bossy nurse
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 20:18, closed)

Absolutely TOP TALE!
Good Lord! That was a BRILLIANT story! I feel for you Bro. But God did that make me laugh out loud!

Happy Christmas!

Sean
( Citadel Because the world needs less morons, Fri 21 Dec 2007, 21:29, closed)

Butt-clenchingly funny!
Have a click... oh, and it seems you're at the top!
( jim_bob can herd cats., Sat 22 Dec 2007, 9:14, closed)

I'm home, safe and clean now...the experience is 'behind me' as it were.
I've wanted to reply since I left work but when I got home my t'interweb was knacked (That's bleedin' Virgin Media For you...talk about dumb things!)...it's only just back up and I've seen the replies....lordy!

So thanks to you all for laughing at my misery so far...It genuinely has made me feel better about the incident.

Here's what happpened after...

It appears that there is a god after all...I did indeed start using the old 'stomach cramps and over-acted groaning' as recommended by you good people, but we were all allowed to leave early anyway. RESULT!

If only any of you folk (or indeed myself) could have seen my face when the personnel manager and my boss came up to give me a 'Christmas kiss'...oooh dear god I was bright red...they probably think I fancy them...if only they knew...

Trying to keep my back to the wall (or at least out of the view of everybody) I scuttle off and to this moment I don't know if I got away with it...I suppose I'll find out when I go back in January...

The drive home wasn't pleasant...nor was explaining what had happened to the present Mrs Pooflake...'For fuck's sake, man, you're supposed to be an adult' was what she said as I threw every thread of clothing into the washing machine and stood there 'tackle-out', checking my body for stainage.

She also wasn't too happy about the fact that the first thing I decided to do after pappering my grundies was to post about it on B3ta. Ah well. The world has a right to know what's going on in my grot department.

And to BGB...the reason I didn't think to pull my pants down was because in my 'relaxed' state, I had forgotten I had pulled them up...Yes, I really am that mong-tastically stupid. I even lifted a bum-cheek beforehand and as the inevitable started to happen, I had a milisecond of panic before it was too late...I think the last thing that went through my head before blast off was:

'It's gone too far now, I hope this is just a fart'

As you now know and as is so often the case with me...I was wrong. Again.

After getting home, receiving my well deserved bollocking and having a thorough shower...I did a half-arsed job of warming up another pasty and chowed it down...

Some people just never learn...


*Burble, bloop etc*

and happy Christmas
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Sat 22 Dec 2007, 13:09, closed)

Sometimes I feel like I'm the only person here...
...who doesn't have the bowel control of a toddler.
(Musuko, Sun 23 Dec 2007, 19:10, closed)

Merry Fucking Christmas!
Have an appropriate Christmas song...

Oh, give me a noose I can hang from the tree
I need no excuse to end my misery
This holiday season is all the more reason to die

Oh, pull up a stool and an ear to a fool
Once found some solace in the season of yule
This holiday season is all the more reason to cry

I put on my mittens, one green and one red
And I walk alone where they bury the dead
The snow falls as I breathe
It's a Gothic, death-rock Christmas eve

The bottle is empty
The sleigh has a flat
The stripper in my bed is ugly and fat
Her tassels are tangled and what's worse
My jingle won't jangle

This time of the year makes me sick to my guts
All this good cheer is a pain in the nuts
When it's your career to be down in the dumps
Tidings of comfort and joy really suck

I feel like St. Nicholas is pulling my leg
This thing we call "Christmas" is a sorry black plague
This holiday season is
All the more reason to die
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Sun 23 Dec 2007, 19:25, closed)

You poor bastard
**hugs**
( ..wil, Tue 25 Dec 2007, 11:53, closed)

Send them all threatening emails, if they noticed.

( Cae1, Wed 26 Dec 2007, 0:48, closed)

holy fuck
that's rather unlucky fella!! this deserves a click
( McBadger COW, Wed 26 Dec 2007, 1:01, closed)

Best Christmas Story Ever.
Sir, you have got class. No mistake.

And I thought pissing (unintentionally) over the rim of the toilet in a pub's bog, saturating the floor (wipe-up-able, albeit with most of the loo roll) and the seat of my own round-my-ankles jeans (NOT dryable) was bad. Thankfully I was wearing a long jumper but I still made excuses and left dragging my confused other half with me.

Strangely I was able to relate the tale only days afterwards without embarresment, I just simply couldn't own up while I was sitting in my own piss for the first time in about 40 years. Perhaps you might feel the same about your own accident when you return to work.
(singingringingtree Living in the past., Sat 29 Dec 2007, 22:33, closed)