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This is a question Shit Stories

I once ate four Kendal Mint Cakes and did a white shit. My old school friend Roger had to outdo me. He claimed to have done a "blue bubbling turd" after eating six packets of blackcurrant Chewits. We want to hear your stories of poo, from crapping yourself at your sisters wedding to shitting the bed during sex. Go on - be filthy.

(, Wed 5 May 2004, 22:24)
Pages: Latest, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, ... 1

This question is now closed.

mcsplurry
I had(have) a mad craving for those Kebab chilis that you get, er, down the kebab place (obviously) - Imagine my delight when I found you could buy jars of them down local supermarche.
Imagine my horror the day after eating said jar of chili's when my sphincter decided to errupt/spasm to new levels, and to make it worse I was a 10 min walk from home. Much quick shuffling, followed by 30sec bouts of "spazzy ring" ensued....
(just made it home to loo BTW, but only by a dribble)
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 12:00, Reply)
Punish those you don't like.
If you have the opportunity to use the toilet in the establishment of someone or something that you have a dislike for and the toilet has an accessible low level cistern, you may wish to remove the cistern lid, your trousers and underwear and then precariously balance over the open cistern. Evacute your bowels in to the cistern... trousers up.. lid back on..and off you go.

If you are lucky your turd will remain undiscoverd in the cistern long enough for it to become enmeshed in the mechnics of the flushing system.

Unfortunately most hotels don't give you access to the cistern.. I think they may be wise to this.
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:59, Reply)
Of "squatter toilets" in France
As has been described in eariler postings, Some of the more rustic areas in france and spain have the ubiquitous "squatter" toilet. This particulat style of toilet resembles a precelain shower-tray, with a pair of "foot plates" cast into it, and a hole of approximately "clenched fist" Diameter...
During our Childhood, my family traveled in france every now and then... my brother (12) and I (10) became hardened Squatter-users.
The problems were many, mostly due to the sizing and spacing of these foot plates... they were designed for ADULTS.
The two most memorable mistakes are these...

It was most often that the initial log-cabins where built infront of the hole in the porcelein, such was our stature. The flushing systems on these crappers ranged from a hose-pipe and squirty nozzle, to the more powerful tank-pipe-fixenozzle system. I will never forget waiting in line (with some locals) to use the single toilet, as my brother attmpted to flush the system. The fixed nozzle neatly floated and surfed his dung-castle out under the stall door.... paper and all... he pissseed himself laughing and shouted "did you see that"... and swallowed his laughter VERY fast as he exited and saw the two guys stood behind me.

The second (scuse the length gov') incedent followed a particularly violent prawn-induced shit storm. My brother's indignant screams issued from the stall next to me, as his sprayed his slurry directly at the porcelain between his legs.... it bounced, splattered, sprayed and coated the underside of his thighs, and arse. As we were at a campsite, and barefoot, he was able to clean this off.... all would have been great... but for one thing..
Insult was added to humiliation when he failed to guage the powser of the "flushing hose", took aim, fired, and blasted a jet of water at his slurry. From the shit-monster that emerged, it became clear that this tidal wave of arse-stew had been hurled at the wall by the power of the water jet, and splashed all over my brother. He was coated head to foot in his own shit. When I'd finished laughing I obligingly hosed the poor bugger off.
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:58, Reply)
poo art
at xmas, i was pretty bored, so i decided to attempt a bit of creativity with poo... this brought the world's attention to pic-arse-o
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:56, Reply)
I HAVE HOLD OF YOUR WINDPIPE LET GO OFF THE POO
Sixth form, another boring day
Lad called Leek, hides a guy called Furlong's Bag, Furlong in turn hides Leeks coat and accidentally rips it.

Leek Is FURIOUS and storms off into the cold winters day.

He later returns with a frozen dog turd found in the field, and promptly puts it on the radiator to defrost.

3 Hours Later

Cue face off between Leek And FURLONG,
they started wrestling each other with leek on the ground, shit everywhere with furlong shouting,
"I HAVE HOLD OF YOUR WINDPIPE LET GO OFF THE POO"
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:56, Reply)
A few years ago...
...me and my mate decided we would crap in the hole on the local golf course and watch the guys reactions from the oposite site of the big steel fences. It was funny the way he just went "Oh no!" as he went to reach for his ball.
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:55, Reply)
My mums fault for re-marrying
Three stories for you now, one from my mum's previous marriage and two from her current one.

I'll put them in seperate posts though to make them a bit shorter

First one: She was married to a guy from Bradford who was thick, stubborn but a very proud Yorkshire lad. We were driving back from Spain one summer all up through France to Calais. The day before we left he had eaten something which gave him the shits, not long after we entered France he decided to pull in to the first available services. As soon as we parked he left the car and ran faster than anyone his size should be able to towards the toilets only to stop in the middle of the car park, turn around and waddle his way back to the car. He opened the boot (trunk if you're American) and started rumaging around at which point my brother asks.

"What's the matter, you shit yourself?" which was met with.

"No! I bloody 'aven't!" As he squelched off towards the toilets with clean underwear in his hands.
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:51, Reply)
Turd terrorism is a wonderfull thing.
At the same retail organisation as previously mentioned, one of my good friends left the company to join another. We had a habit of sending odd stuff in the post to each other.. I felt I had to take it to another level.

Taking a latex doctors glove, I retired to the bog and crimped a turd into the glove. I then carefully squeezed the warm pooh into the fingers of the glove and tied off the end. Into an envelope and off she goes.

A few days later I got a call from my friend.. apparently on receipt of the envelope, realizing it was from me..and noticing an unpleasant smell.. he thought it best to open it behind closed doors and not in the shop as he normally would. I think I upset him a bit. He is a changed man.. though still my friend. We stopped exchanging gifts via the post.
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:45, Reply)
School friend
1 day I was in history (with a renowned dragon of a teacher) sitting next to my best mate. I was just out of hospital mentioned before, with crutches & leg in plaster so was allowed out 5 mins early to get down the stairs before the seething herd.

This one day my best friend KEEPS on releasing God awful silent farts while his guts keep rumbling LOUDLY like a school of whales. I kept berating him for the stench every 5 minutes.

I'm allowed to go, leave my things on the desk for him to bring and start hop-a-hopping down the steps. I get about 5 steps down when I clearly hear a MASSIVE ripping FART from the room and a chorus of "UUUUUURGGGGGHHHH!" (some people claim the windows rattled).

Said friend RUSHES past me, briefly stopping to say "I've been sick!". "No shit" I think as he has chunks plus liquid on his chin which weren't usually there. He rushes off in panic to the nearest loo.

Apparently he just stood up, involuntarily let loose a fantastic ripper, vomited all over the desks and shat himself LOL! (Well, not sure if he actually shat through to the public side of his trousers, but it sounds good, right? ;-) )

Other mean friends were not helpful in retrieving my things on account of them now being under a thin layer of instant soup substitute. I had spaghetti bolgnese for dinner that day which was somehow not as enticing as normal.
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:45, Reply)
yay clear shit!!! : D
a little while ago the only thing i ate was...well...nothing. and all i drank was water... FOR A WEEK!!!! anywho my shit was bubbling,gross,clear,very close to solid,see-thru-turd. it was awful.it felt like i was shitting jello but anyway i was on my daily route to walk to the shops and buy coke one week after my shit became solid and i 'clearly'(pardon the pun) crapped myself but this time it was pure liquid. so anyway picture this...about 300 people around me in the shop i let out this god-forsaken fart...everyone turns their heads to look at me and then i create 'the puddle'. ok so the moral of this story is look down if this happens to you. cause then you won't see the gay guy to your right in zebra skin pants and platforms smile scarily and wave.

i guess i looked like i had a ferjeena pissin' directly down and all
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:44, Reply)
After an exceptionally long night on the piss,
I kept going to the shitter at regular intervals the next morning.
My "Richard the Thirds" came out like letters of the alphabet - J, Q, O and U were achieved in the space of a morning.
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:42, Reply)
In a small retail organisation
where I used to work, we had a habit of shitting in an 'about face' style i.e. straddling the pan and facing the cistern (takes a bit of practice). The turd will flop on to the front inside of the bowl and slide down, leaving a hideous mess. Then shuffle round to another trap and do the paperwork there, so your art work in the original stall isn't spoilt.

One store had a solicitors office above it, and one Saturday, one of the guys popped up to their toilets and spattered the pan via an about face..and duly left it.. to bake on over the weekend. On Monday morning.. a very irate solicitor came storming down to ask us about the state of his toilet and what on earth had happened. The chap who had done the deed, looked him in the eyes and said "one of our customers..it was a small child I think". We got away with it..fuck knows how but we did, there is no way he believed us.

I like to think that maybe one of his secretaries was first greeted with the sight as she went to shake her lettuce after her first coffee of the morning.
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:35, Reply)
Liberating Tarka
Once, I ate an enormous sausage and within hours curled down a brown trout that looked almost identical to what I'd eaten.

However, just days later...having eaten my own faeces, it was with great dismay that I found yet more poo in the pan, rather than the afore-mentioned foodstuff.

Funny thing science, isn't it?
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:28, Reply)
I had been saving up a huge turd all day,
and when it finally needed to meet it's watery grave, I knew it was going to be trouble.

It felt like I was shitting out a motorcycle helmet. With spikes on it.

Suffice to say, the excrucitaing pain I was suffering wasn't normal. This was confirmed by a 'drip drip drip drip' after the dreadnaught had sunk to firing depth.

The dripping sound was blood pouring from my damaged arse. In horror, I quickly stuffed a load of bog roll up there & drove as fast as I could to the doctors.

Upon arrival, I staggered in, pale faced, nearly in tears and in a lot of pain. I pointed out to the mini-hitler on the recpetion that I needed to see a doctor urgently. Seeing my distress and being a compassionate type, she refused to help me until I'd told her what was so urgent that I had to see a doctor straight away.

I'm sure I heard her sniggering as I was taken in to see the doctor.

I then had to suffer further humiliation as the doctor (male - I insisted) then spent a good ten minutes poking about my arse 'umming and ahhhing' over whether or not stitches would be required. The Bastard.

He eventually decided that none would be required, gave me a prescription for some 'special cream' and told me not to strain so hard in future.

I now drink copious of lager every night, to ensure that my arse is never troubled by anything more than rusty water and grapeskins.
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:28, Reply)
St Patricks day massacre
I'm Joe long time reader first time poster.
The following events are real only the peoples names have been changed.
It had started out as any other St Patrick’s day in Belfast with me and a bunch of mates getting drunk stoned and a couple of us deciding to have some mushrooms to help the day along. We go for a pint or three in the students union, spirits were high and at only 3pm everyone was shit-faced (no pun intended). A friend of ours “Julian” (not his real name) was staggering/falling/stumbling around like a generally pissed up loon and making strange hooting noises. We finish our pints and decide to head back to a mates house for a BBQ in the sun. Later on and after an attempt at having a BBQ indoors (not wise) were all sitting in the living room enjoying a spliff when… BOOM!!! The front door flies open and there’s the patter of not so tiny footsteps running up the stairs with a purpose and falling all over the place. It’s Julian, “I’m goin for a shite” was all we heard before hearing the bathroom door close loudly. Becky comes walking into the living room "No jokin, I think he's shit himself".
The hall stank of shit, not ordinary shit but the kind of shit whose smell would linger in the hall until the next day. There was shit on the stairs where he’d fallen over on the way to the bog. Me Colly an Crookes go an stand outside the bathroom, we could hear a series of bangs and crashes (this is a student bathroom with nothing to bang or crash into), we shout in "Julian", we got back "fuck off I’m takin a shite" then "I didn’t shit myself".
He spent at least 30mins in there. Then we heard a very lard crash sound and decide he was tryin to hang himself because of the shame. So Colly opened the door with a knife somehow. We’re greeted by the site of an extremely pissed Julian attempting to pull up his trousers (which were soaking? an had shit smears all over then). The smell was god awful, the floor was soaking, there were bits of shit soaked bog roll all over the floor. Julian had a massive whack of shite on top of his shoe,
Julian : "I didnt shit myself"
Me: "Whats that on your shoe then?"
Julian: "Thats dogshit!!"
Me: "No it isnt"
He then fell back down on the bog while still tryin to do up his trousers, he eventually gets up and insisits that he must hug me for being such a good mate. We walk/throw him outta the house and hope he makes it home. About 20min or so later me an Colly decide to go to the offies then to Julians house to check on him. We arrive at Julian's and his housemate Peter answers, we tell him the story and he tells us Julian is in his room. Colly decides to go for a piss, just as he is about to reach for the bathroom door handle it flies open. Julian is standing there naked and freshly out of the shower. He
chases us around for a bit (still naked) insisting that he hadn’t shit himself and that he couldn’t even remember being in the other house so therefore it didn't happen. There was a look of desperation in his eyes that made us both think he might do somethin silly, he did. He chased me out of his house still naked out into his street. Remember that St Patricks day is a big day in Belfast especially in student areas, the street was packed with drunken students and a dozen or so young children. He momentarily paused at the steps in front of his door before raising his right hand shouting woooooo and running around his street starkers. We eventually got him back inside where he eventually put on some boxers (not before subjecting me Colly an Peter to a naked rant in the living room on how he didn’t shit himself). More people arrive to witness Julian in all his glory and one of them notices that Julian has some shit on his bare foot.
Crookes: "Julian there’s shit on you foot."
Julian: "no there isn't, its not shit"
Julian licks his finger and rubs the brown matter on his foot, sucks on said finger and pronounces that it's actually just dirt. Ever notice how when you wet dry shit you can smell it again, we all smelt shit
but decided not to say to him for fear of retributions involving a shitty finger. Now we all decided it was best to try and leave him for a while and let him sober up, he went to bed and missed the rest of St
Patrick’s day. To this day he denies the entire incident even happened......but we have photos of it......some day......somewhere.......we'll post them......and you can all witness the horror of that day.
Sorry about the long post but if you made it this far then thanks for reading it.
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:25, Reply)
Oh, how horrible, I have two
In a shared flat in my second year at uni a (female) flatmate got so annihilated that she shat in the middle of the living room floor before passing out. We all realised fairly quickly, as she had managed to shit (and wee a little bit) on an electric socket (extension cable) and had fused the electrics of the whole flat. Better than finding her dead in a pile of her own shit.. Brings a new meaning to the old Ren and Stimpy classic "Don't whizz on the electric fence".

I also have an acquiantance who on a drunken night in some friends' house disappeared to the loo, only to re-emerge proudly with a new moustache and beard. His own poo. Horrifying. He is a singer in a punk band in Camden - I wonder if anyone here will recognise him (snigger).
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:25, Reply)
Another shit/vomit combo.....
A mate of mine....why are all my stories about other people? I guess I'm quite glad actually....went to someone's party when he was at school years ago. The evening was in full swing, when he noticed there was a massive queue for the bog. He went to the front of the queue, and it turned out one of his friends he had brought with him had been in there for ages and ages. After banging on the door and shouting his name for 5 minutes, they decided to break the door down, only to find a hellish vision. This guy, having apparently drank most of a bottle of vodka, had gone for a shit, and while he was sat there had been violently sick all over the wall and fallen off the pan. He was lying there unconscious, covered in shit and vomit. They cleaned him as much as they could, and picked him up to try and get him out of the house

He came to just as they reached the top of the stairs, and slipped out of their grasp. Without managing to break his neck, he feel donw the stairs, vomiting as he went, landing in a heap at the bottom. Miraculously, he was ok, and the fall seemed to have revived him a bit too. They managed to get him outside, and full of relief, stopped to take a breather. The guy again broke loose, and sprinted up the road before they could grab him. By the time they caught up with squatting in the middle of the road doing a massive shit, as cars beeped their horns and stared in disbelief. It was at this stage 7 o'clock in the evening in bright sunlight....
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:21, Reply)
You ever make a bet with your colon?
After consuming far too much pizza and donuts during a party, I was faced with the fact I had to poo. Not the good kind that is as patient as you'd like to be; this was the kind of poo that reminds you of the screaming child in the toy store who can't wait until their birthday for a particular toy. The pizza parlor I had walked out of locked the doors behind me, and the rest of the stores in the center were closed for the night as well. I wasn't familiar with the area either, so I bet myself that the 20 minute drive home would be far quicker than driving around blindly looking for a public toilet.

My poo started throwing a tantrum about halfway home. Every pothole I hit was like the wails of my large, smelly child. The cramps were horrendous, and the squeal of every fart seemed like a pump priming itself. A PUMP OF POO!

I had to do a small dance in my car seat to deal with the pain of the impending shitstorm, and raced home ever faster as the pressure built. I tore into my apartment's parking lot and did a horrible parking job in the rush. I didn't care, because realized I was just minutes away from my toilet, but just a few seconds from a colonic disaster. I did a half jog to my room, because walking was too slow and running jarred my intestines too much. The caca countdown began. At 5 I was at my door. 4 saw me with my keys in the lock. 3 had me tearing through the living area to my bedroom door. At 2 I was in my bathroom with my pants around my ankles, and I was fumbling with my underwear. The Brown Bomb went off early, just as I was hovering over my toilet seat.

The first wave hit my undies and jeans, but luckily missed the bathroom rug. I spent a good ten minutes finishing up my dirty work before I was satisfied, and spent an additional 15 trying to get the shit out of my jeans. I simply tossed my tighty not-so-whities into the garbage. The moral of the story? Shit happens.
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:19, Reply)
And yet more.....
Years ago, I worked in a pub in Bristol, and the antiquated drainage system was legendary for getting blocked up. One night this happened, and the drain in the cellar basically backed up into the cellar - it was about 2 foot deep in, well, poo and all sorts of unsavoury matter. Of course the manager Jim pulls rank and sends the assistant manager Luke down to sort this out. Now he'd been down there a while, so Jim decides to go and see what the problem is. I, being a nosy type, also decide to have a look.

I was just descending the steps, only to see Luke finally clear the blockage. He was bending down, wit his face mere inches away from the filthy water, when there was a horrible sucking noise, and out pops this huge mixed variety of poo. The stench was unreal. Luke immediately vomits on top of the turds. Meanwhile, Jim, who is standing right next to him, smells the shit/vomit cocktail, and does a 'sympathy' spew on top of the satanic mixture.

I managed to keep my stomach, but it was the funniest thing I have ever seen...
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:06, Reply)
Every sunday...
I normally find a saturday night consisting of 40 marlbrough lights, several pints of grolsch followed by several pints of diesel mixed together with a good old boogie normally results in the blackest shit known to man all day sunday...
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:05, Reply)
Shit story
I once went to the shops, and bought some stuff.

Oh wait... you meant stories *ABOUT* shit? oooh...
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 11:00, Reply)
i crapped on the roof of my freinds conservatory
and what do you know, the ice cream van man saw me and played his tune to let everyone know my bowels were empty.

apologies for length.
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 10:50, Reply)
yes well what else?
my dogs like to eat kitty kruchies....you know left over cat turds? out of the little box? but not fresh ones only the old kruchy ones.....gives them the most horrifying breath....
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 10:47, Reply)
Posh Wedding
I went to a rather Posh do and throughout the whole church services I was dying for a crap. It was really painful and I couldn't wait for a dump.
Anyway, we leave the church and off to the brides house a few minutes walk away. I make my excuses as we arrive and go to the little boys room.
God was it a great shit. The bloody length on it - how I came out in one piece I don't know.
And would it flush, NO. I flush 3 times and it would go.
So I decided I couldn't leave it there as everyone know I'd gone up. So all there was left to do was to grab a load of toilet paper, grab the offending sausage and throw it out of the window. Not a nice job (no punn )but it had to be done.
So off I go downstairs, feeling much lighter. I see that most of the guests that arrived were in the newly built conservatory - and I was meet with deadly silence and a few grins. One of my mates was nearly crying trying to hold in his giggles.
Brides father looks up - and there on the glass roof of the conservatory is the biggest, longest dump you've ever seen.
I've not been round since :)
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 10:41, Reply)
Here boy
When I was about 17 two friends and I returned to my parents house from the pub.

They went into the kitchen to get some toast and I went to see if anyone was still up, luckily my parents had gone to bed.

So I came down and saw they were talking and eating with their back to me, and our dog was standing next to them looking my direction. I decided to give them a shock by jumping into the kitchen with my pants down and farting on the dogs head (seemed like a good idea at the time).

Down came my trousers. I leapt into the kitchen shouting 'AH HA' to get their attention, attempted to fart on the dog, but followed through. The dogs head was covered in shit and I had it running down my legs.

Suffice to say everyone I had ever met was told about this, and I'm still waiting for a knock on the door from the RSPCA.
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 10:40, Reply)
tinsel town?
we all know wht tinsel it right? that plasticky foil shiny shit that you put on christmas trees? you know the stuff you mom has to spend all day putting on one tiny silvered piece at a time (not me i just pile the shit on) well i have three cats and four dogs and they all like to eat what ever falls to the floor so....
all of them ate the tinsel one year and wlked around all christmas day with like foot long silver streamers hanging out of thier asses. the funniest part ? my great grandmother thought it was "festive"
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 10:37, Reply)
Since this thread started I've realised my whole life revolves around shit!!!
Got up this morning after a heavy night last night (if you live in Newcastle Krafty Kuts was fucking excellent at WHQ last night). I managed to drag myself to the kitchen for some recovery kornflakes and was accompanied by my lovely but foolish dog Star.

Star is a great dog - the best in fact - he looks constantly happy and he has the cutest doggy face, however, he has a fuck annoying habit of chasing the cats round the house and not doing anything with them when he catches them! Anyway, I was just about tolerating Eammon Homs sweaty fuck face on the box when I noticed Stoofer (my cat) was perching on the cat try and going cross eye'd with Star sat in front of him watching.

Still trapped in my beer/substance abuse recovery haze I sat and watched as Stoofer laid 10 cat miles of chocolate pipeline, which Star promptly ate!! FUCK! if anything will put you off food for life its seeing poo getting eaten (animal or human - see other poo related posts from me).

However Star hadn't finished, obviously thrilled with his accomplishment he then decided he'd try and shag the cat. So there he was - Stoofer stood still not understanding wot was going on as Star put his front paws around Stoofer...shot out his pink lipstick dick and began thrusting away about 2 foot in the air above Stoofer!!!

Obviously cat poo is an aphrodisiac and I had just witnessed the sickest display of sexual deviancy since Michael Barrymore (twunt)
(sorry for length - no more I promise!)
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 10:37, Reply)
drunken nutcase
My parents went on holiday a few years ago and took my sister with them, leaving me to my own devices. Naturally the few friends i invited round resulted in a house full of 17-20 year olds boozing and smoking like there was no tomorrow.

However there was one guy there who was a bit of a manic depressive / alcoholic psychopath who after drinking his own 8 cans asked me if i would give him a can or two of my own. What he didnt tell me is he meant a can or two every half an hour so by one in the morning he was completely wrecked and asleep on the lawn, where upon the little man in his head in charge of bladder control went on strike.

When he did wake up he came inside and everyone went out of their way to tell him he had pissed himself, to which he replied ' I think ive shit myself too'. It was at the moment that the ungodly whiff of 18 cans of worthingtons and a particularly iffy kebab based shite hit the noses of everyone present.

The poor lad was so embarrased that he collected his bag and squelched home on his bike. we later found out that he has fallen off his bike about 9 times and been pulled over by the police. I almost felt sorry for him til the next morning when i went into the bathroom and found his bodged attempt to clean himself up in the shower....wanker =(
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 10:34, Reply)
Another one!
It's amazing how these fetid stories jog your memory about poo.....

We all go to our local Rock/Metal night once a month, and the Gents has two cubicles with a typically flimsy connecting partition. The last time we went, for some alcoholic reason, some twat had decided to utterly destroy the partition, doors, the lot, so what was left were 2 toilet bowls free standing in full view of everyone doing a wee.

A good friend of mine in his drunken haze decides he needs a shit. In fact now I mention it, I'm not even sure he was that drunk....which makes the following even more disturbing. He sees the lack of shelter, and just thinks 'fuck it' and plonks his arse down anyway.

So all these people are going to relive their bladders, only to be greeted by the sight of a pissed 'Scotch' person wiping his arse in full view of everyone, the filthy minger....
(, Fri 7 May 2004, 10:26, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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