» Guilty Pleasures, part 2

Sometimes when i'm 'Primed for a poo'
i sit on the side of the bath reading books and give occasional pushes, and every now and again a small rabbit poo will drop into the bath making a little 'donk' sound.

i quite like this sound, and so i'll push again until eventually i have to sit on the loo and finish the job off.

it's probably a bit like having sex with a hooker, i feel a bit dirty afterwards, and of course i have to clean the bathtub, though once i forgot, and it was quite difficult explaining the droppings away to my mum.

nb: sitting with your thighs on the edge of the bath for a time gives you pins and needles in your feet, if you're not careful when it's time to get up you might fall over and shit all over the floor.

*edit*
I should have known this would be voted right up to my top answer. You're all so predictable, I mean really.

*editedit*
I also wank into the sink, but everyone does that, usually because you can watch your sexface in the mirror. Phwoar! (if you turn the taps on no-one can hear you) Don't forget to check the taps for semen: People usually don't expect to find it on taps and get 'all funny' about it when they do.
(Thu 13th Mar 2008, 13:17, More)

» Dumb things you've done

one night i had a farting competition with my brother.
it ended when i shit the bed. he'd won.

he won again when he called out to my parents that i'd shit the bed.

what a bastard.
(Mon 31st Dec 2007, 10:34, More)

» Top Tips

Prevent people sitting in the seat next to you on public busses and trains
by putting an old pair of Y fronts that you've previously stained with tea on the relevant seat.

It's better than using a rucksack because no-one will have any idea that they're yours.

If someone makes eye contact whilst seeking a seat simply look at the 'offending' pants, scrunch your face up in disgust and shrug slightly.
(Tue 4th Mar 2008, 21:12, More)

» Shit Stories: Part Number Two

I needed a fart. Really badly. My arse was aching, it was all I do just to control my brown balloon knot.
But control it I did. I was with a customer, in her house.

She was female. She was just inches away, in the seat next to me paying close attention to what I was saying.

My arse wanted to say something too. I controlled it.

Eventually I forgot about it, the fart had gone away and I finished up, got out, got in my car and then the fart returned.

This time I was ready and with great relief i opened my valve.

Of course, you're thinking that I opened my valve and I shat myself. BUt you are wrong in thinking that. I opened my valve and pissed myself with liquid brown liquid. This liquid does not qualify, in my book, as an actual shit. It could have been a slightly chunky soup. A cheap one, from Asda. By feel alone I would probably have hazarded that this was what it was, but seeing as it definitely was coming out of my anus, I had to resign myself to the fact that this was not the case. Also soup does not usually contain a strong propellant, like squirty cream does, and like this shit did.

The smell almost instantly melted my Glade vent mounted Air Freshener and as it dribbled down the dashboard onto the plush carpets of my vauxhall carlton my poo followed its own journey along the creases in my undergarments in its effort to escape my clothing and join the freshener on the floor. I opened the window.

No problem. Concentrate. Lift yourself off the seat a bit. Yes. That feels better. Now, drive to a garage and use the facilities. Ok, you'll have to sit back on the seat to drive. Yes. I know the poo has cooled now and feels even worse but you cannot stay here all day.

I drive to a garage, it's quite far away. I get out of my car and walk into the shop and aim for the servicios (i'm in spain) immensely aware that my accident is clearly visible through my lightish blue (but very cool) skater type jeans, but relieved my nightmare is nearly over.

But this is spain. Where they build everywhere, and where they aren't building, they are rebuilding. In this case they were re-building the toilets. Completely rebuilding them. There were builders in there, or i might have just gone in and rubbed cement dust all over my my arse as a temporary measure, as one might use talc.

no. ok then. I'll get some toilet roll and join the queue. i'll ignore the people behind me, the gently crispifying mess i have all over my arse, balls and legs, the embarrassment. everything. la la la.

Pay for loo rolls (FAMILY SIZE!!) only ones there. Longest walk back to car with everyone in shop queue looking, sit back into my 'happy brown seat' and then drive off looking for somewhere local to clean myself up.

A field as it turns out. With horses. And flies. The flies became my friends.
(Thu 27th Mar 2008, 23:12, More)

» Your first cigarette

My first actual cigarette? Well, it's not something I've told anyone but
My first, my very first I had right after I lost my virginity.
I can remember so many things about it, the damp sheets and the musty smell of sex that hung in the air like some kind of sweet fog which almost overcame me.
I lay there just thinking about the feel of a womans thighs rubbing against my legs, about taking someone's knickers off for the first time, the feel of someone's tongue and lips on my twitching knob, about all those things your mind is filled with after your first time. And whilst she stroked me playfully I started to feel a bit weird about it all, but it was only when my mum asked if I wanted a fag that the spell was broken, I realised I probably did want one, I can just remember croaking 'yes please'. - I finished the rest of the packet the very same day.

This is how I became hooked.
(Fri 21st Mar 2008, 1:06, More)