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This is a question Toilets

Toilets are weird half public/half private spaces. All sorts of stuff goes on in them. They are devious entrances and exits from venues, places to have sex, to snort drugs or even, get this, to defecate. Tell us your favourite toilet stories.

(, Fri 2 Sep 2005, 11:11)
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This question is now closed.

elderly care
i'm a nurse on the elderly care ward of my local hospital. 36 beds full of old old old people.

i opened the door of a single bed room a few months ago to find a lady called doris, stark naked. she was attached to a hoist which is basically a series of purple pvc straps which sort of encircle your thighs whilst pulling your buttocks apart and suspending you in the air. doris was a good 2/3 feet above her chair. she was swaying gently in the wind, and playing on the radio, in a soundtrack to the moment manner, was 'dancing queen' by abba. as i took in this scene, she suddenly let fly the hugest amount of diarroea i have witnessed in a while, which hit the bedpan 2 feet below, whilst her facial expression didn't change. she just carried on swaying gently in the breeze.

i still count that as the most surreal moment of my life.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 20:55, Reply)
"perks" of the job.......
I used to work as bouncer in some of Scotlands "finest" establishments. I have a million stories of finding girls lying in their own piss, shit and vomit at the bottom of toilet cubicles. But one story that occured in the ladies toilets of Edinburgh University Potterow student union springs to mind.........

I walked into the ladies and crouched on the floor to see who was taking a piss and who was "powdering their nose". I see a set of legs that are in the kneeling position. Poor girl i naively thought, she's hugging the bowl being sick. So i go into the next cubicle and stand on the toilet and peer over. Imagine my surprise to see a girl sucking on some guys dick as if her life depended on it. I cleared my throat, loudly, and was like "scuse me you cannae be daein that here". The girl looks up at me with surprise and fear in her eyes as the guy sprays baby gravy, man jam or whatever else you want to call it, all over her face........

As you can imagine i told the guys at work - it was hilarious. Six months later I met a guy who also worked for the same company. "What's your name he asked?", "white_castle" i replied. He then said "oh yeah you're the girl that got cum sprayed in her face....."

So there you go not only a hilarious story but also a warning to the consequences of chinese whispers.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 20:41, Reply)
wherethecheeseat
I've had similar experiences, believe me. Trouble was, I've blocked the toilet on many occasions myself. "Kosher poo" was one of the new buzzwords around camp as a result of the collective anal escapades of boy's side. Believe me, when unblocking a toilet, it is a good idea to:

1. Stand back
2. Keep your mouth closed

As the danger of splash-back is very real. One of the Australian counsellors was singing as he unblocked... Still, that very night, I bought him a drink, got drunk, but then found myself unable to pay for the taxi as I was
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 20:39, Reply)
when my bro-in-law was wee...

he would see his own poopoo after finishing business and puke next to the toilet. not in, but next to it.

class.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 20:26, Reply)
Thar he blows
I once was checking myself in a mirror in an infamous American import fast food chain when I heard a cry from one of the middle two stalls behind me, followed by a thick line of what can only be described as arse-water flying up the back wall. This is quite a feat, given I could only see the wall a good 7 foot from the floor as the cubicles were obscuring anything further down.

It ricocheted of the wall, fanning out into both stalls and onto the ceiling. Picasso would have been proud, but the guy from the next stall (who screamed "you cucking funt" or similar as he ran out of the stall and toilets) and the subsequent cleaning crew (bless them) didn't really see the funny side of it.

At one point, I honestly thought I needed to be carried out before I laughed myself to death.

If you need anything to truly believe this story, and I swear it's true, it was in Hull.

Nuff said.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 20:24, Reply)
summer camp
I work at a summer camp in the states during the summer, and while you are a concilor at a summer camp, you pretty much lose faith that the next generation of children is in fact the future. First off, the toilets were some of the worst maintained toilets i've ever seen, but even so the little shits still think it's funny to vandalize. On one occasion we caught the culprits in a particulary nasty clogging (he took a shit covered it with paper towel, then his friend took a shit and covered it with paper towel, and then later they both did it again, and paper towel doesn't flush.) So there are like 4 layers of shit and paper towel that completely filled the bowl that would not go down, so we made them put on latex gloves and pick it up and put it in a garbage bag, during which both of them puked. Serves 'em right, the little bastards.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 20:06, Reply)
Hotel in Vietnam
I was there for 3 days, during which time the toilet broke 4 times in 3 different ways.

One day, I was out in the market when I needed a wee, so I trotted off to the public loo. When I peered inside, I copied some of the other young ladies outside and rolled my trousers up. As I walked in I noticed holes on the tiled floor and thought they were drains for when the cleaners hosed down the loos (which was obviously quite infrequently).

And then I noticed ladies squatting over them.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 20:03, Reply)
Vom sprinkler
just about to spew i feel a sneeze and instinctivly put my hands over my nose and mouth the comes then vomit spraying from between my fingers in all directions
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 19:24, Reply)
french cum and a gay ninja
I had been on holiday in Germany with my outlaws in wonderful town in the Black Forest. Found out the Germans to be very nice people, quite a revelation. So we a driving back to Blighty and therefore drive through France to get the ferry back. Needing a large poo we pull off at this desolate toilet at what passes as a French version of an A road. As I walk in, right in the middle of the floor is a splattered puddle of French cum on the floor. As if some seedy little Frenchman had decided “ not only will I have a wank in a public toilet but when I cum my duff I’m going to shoot it right in the middle of the floor so everyone can see it “. The trouble is when anyone talks to me about France THAT is the image that immediately pops into my head…shudder.

I was 20, it was the mid 80’s and my girlfriend, who was a hairdresser, takes me out clubbing to a gay club. No problem. I think it was when I was going the toilet I got worried about my attire. Tight black leather trousers ( I was a longhair ) and a t-shirt with a picture of Gnasher on it bearing the legend “ Gnash “. So, not to confuse the patrons I went to pee in a cubicle…it had no lock on the door. So I perform my ablutions with my foot against the door. I finish, start to lace up the front of my trousers ( oh, I forgot to mention that 80’s fashion detail ) and suddenly a bloke pushes in through the door, closes it behind him, smiles and runs his hand across my leather clad packet…all in one fluid movement, like some kind of gay ninja. Luckily it was the one moment in my life when the right answer came at the right time. I respond with “ fuck off or my boyfriend will kill you “. This gave me enough time to extricate myself from the cubicle. I get back to my pissed girlfriend and tell her what has just happened…her response “ Great ! Let’s dance “…and so we did. Ah, the joy’s of dating thick blonde hairdressers.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 19:16, Reply)
Thought for the day...
...why do you "take a shit"?

I've only ever left them behind...

*confused*
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 19:01, Reply)
more on squatters
Rereading this question made me go out and build a log cabin.

Squatters really are nice on the anus, but hard on the thighs. This cuts down on the amount of wiping you have to do; you get a much cleaner launch.

And I heard from an American friend who went to an American military school in Korea about a fat teacher who also thought they were great--but this woman would sit right on the squatter, so her entire ass would cover it up.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 18:52, Reply)
Jugs...
My younger brother when small, went through a stage of pissing in a jug or cup of somesort. And then leaving it on the toilet cystern upstairs. Nobody knew why he did this.

/edit/He also came down one evening with the amazing account of how he had managed to do a poo in the shape of a deer. That if we wished we could go upstairs and witness this fecal feat. And so we did. And yes, it did indeed look like a deer. The wonders of a 4 year old.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 18:29, Reply)
...
I once was in a bathroom in frence that was simply a floor with a hole in it. I dont want to think how do this people manage to poo in it.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 17:56, Reply)
poo break
Some friends and myself had driven to morocco, (dover-calais and straights of gibraltar being the exceptions) to windsurf at a beach called moulay, big clean waves and strong wind.

Sleeping in the vans, we had no toilet facilities. Luckily however, the fierce sea had worn 1ft wide, deep holes into rock, making convenient natural toilets with a drop into the sea or sand. These were cleaned out every high tide, as if by design. This was useful, as moroccan food can sometimes be a bit suspect.

However, the rock toilets were situated downwind and downwave, so anyone making a mistake would get sucked into the toilet area, known as "poo break"

Sadly, I don't have any pictures of these amazing natural toilets, so you'll have to imagine. If you can be arsed.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 17:46, Reply)
Kiespike
As you say, we don't know how 'complicated' it made things for you.... but there is a view that leaving an unconscious woman with head injuries in a pitch-black toilet might just possibly be somewhat irresponsible. Head injuries can be serious, she could have died, don't you think?
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 17:46, Reply)
Summer camp faecal fun
I once worked in an American summer camp (BUNAC). The maintenance crew and
kitchen slaves had their accommodation directly above the dining hall, with
the bathroom above where the commandant's table was situated.
One evening, 10 minutes before dinner was to be served, one of the maintenance
crew blocked the bogs with a huge turd, causing it to overflow. As he
desperately attacked the turd with a stick, brown water flecked with faeces
poured through the ceiling over the commandant's shiny white table.
Unfortunately he was not sitting at it (he would have deserved this fate), but
when he sat down to eat a few minutes later he did not know that merely the
minimum of wiping had been done.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 17:33, Reply)
sex!
Well, it was late one night at my place of work, and i have to lock up. my now ex-gf comes to meet me when i finish.

as im cleaning up, we settle for a drink, and watch 'leon' on the telly.

suddenly things get frisky, and we decide to go somewhere quieter.

a cubile in the pitch black ladies toilets
so we fumble around finally get into position a sort of semi standing "girl on top" and we go at it for a while until..

she smacks her head off the wall and is 100% spark out on me..

you dont understand how much this complicated and jepordised my employment and relationship.

so i left her there, thats why shes my ex.

a night of mind blowing proportions if u ask me
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 17:29, Reply)
... speaking of lasagne....
i once had spinach lasagne. it didn't agree with me.

so i sit on the bog crapping my guts out when i realised that my anus was not the only orifice that was about to excreet. with too little time to turn around (and there was still half digested pasta dripping out the other end) i used the sink conveniently placed right opposite the loo.

unfortunately my greedy eating style meant that the spinach leaves weren't properly chewed and therefore blocked the plughole.

i didn't know any better than to scoop the puke from sink to bog with my bare hands.

unsurprisingly i have never had spinach lasagne since.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 17:28, Reply)
Most Glorious Shit I Ever Had

High up in the mountains, far from civilisation, skreeeek goes the wooden cabin door at dawn, fresh, fresh morning air. Inhale, stretch. Birdies twittering, cockerels cockerelling.

Over there is the outside loo, probably made 60 years ago, looks just like those wooden cartoon ones. Walk over, skreeeek, enter, sun beginning to stream between gaps in the wood. Look down, lift round wood cover, place aside. Look inside, yesterday's contributions covered in fresh sawdust.

Turn, down keks, sit, start to hum Grieg's "Morning" from Peer Gynt Suite No. One.

Birdies, fresh, fresh air, morning sun, God's creation, and then mine.

Flapff.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 17:21, Reply)
Drunken pissing
Just a lack- of-toilet story. My mate at uni called Tim got wasted on snakebite as frequently happened and went round his nice girlfriend's room to sleep. In the middle of the night he got up, walked over to her desk, flipped up the lid of her laptop and pissed all over it, thinking it was the loo.
She is still happily with him although I think she told her parents that she spilled water on her computer and they claimed on the insurance.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 17:18, Reply)
politeness helps.
went to a students party with a few mates. one of them blew himself away with tequila before arrived. so on arrival the went straight for the bog and puked his guts out all evening. we had a nice time, but at about 1.30 we decided to head off and thought, well, let's get bert frm the loo and bugger off. so the remaining three of us go to the restrooms. in a row. i was last. comes a chap behind me and i thought, well i don't need to go, so i let him go first as his urges are surely stronger. just as i let him past he showed us what he had for dinner. very graphically. very violently. on my mates coat.

hmmm. lasagne.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 17:18, Reply)
My first visit to Sheffield in 1989...
...to visit a pal at University here, involved a lengthy car journey from Felixstowe, a huge traffic jam, and the consumption by myself of four cans of Special Brew and a bottle of Strawberry Wine, all meant for his party the next day.

Needless to say, by the time we got there it was getting late and we were already very very drunk so went straight to meet him at the Leadmill, at about 10pm. I wasn't feeling too er... jovial, so just got myself half a pint of cider to sober up with. Within 10 minutes of getting in there I got the spinspundizzys so very very bad, and headed straight for the bogs.

God knows how I made it there but once I did wasn't going to leave - after emptying the entire contents of my stomach, and probably loosened a few internal organs, I collapsed with my arms around the rim and my head resting in the bowl. I fell asleep. Only to be woken at 2am by a bouncer kicking down the bog door at closing time. He picked me up by the scruff of the neck and threw me out the back door. Luckily my pals had waited around for me. Aah, bless. Fuck knows how I would have survived the night otherwise. *Shudder*

So, I spent the first four hours of my first ever visit to Swinging Sheffield lying in a pool of my own sick clinging onto a toilet for dear life.

I didn't come back again until 1997. And I've stayed here ever since. Must be something to do with the quality of the public toilets. And yes, I do frequent the Leadmill for the odd gig or two. But never get drunk and always go home safely on the bus.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 16:55, Reply)
My mate Fozzie
went into the bogs at work for a slash. Behind him are six "traps" . After finishing up he heads for the exit. Only to hear "plonk" from trap 2, then "plonk" from trap 4. At this he shouted at the top of his voice "fifteen all"
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 16:45, Reply)
As usual it's a "this happened to a friend of a friend…"
Our story begins with a strapping young chap (known throughout the land for his consumption of vast quantities of beer and white hot curries). Enter pretty young girl who falls for his charms and before you know it they're banging away like an outside bog door in a gale.
This continues for some time. And our hero is all the time still quaffing ale and indulging sphincter spikers. Then came the day the object of his affections suggests that he meet Mum and Dad. Many a young man whould normally take to the hills at this request - but the boy is in love so dutifully agrees to show up at the address for Sunday lunch. Not seeing his true love on the Saturday before he joins his mates and heads off on the piss, the evening concluding with the usual atomic vindaloo. The following morning he's hit by the most ferocious shits. Undeterred he gets dressed up and keeps his appointment with girlfriends parents. After introductions are made and sherry handed out, they all make their way to the dining room. Now it could have been the additional alcohol in his system… but he suddenly needed to go. Keeping control of his seething innards he excused himself and was directed to the toilet upstairs. Here he proceeded to create his own 'Jackson Pollax' within the bowl. Not a problem a quick flush, splash round with domestos and it was gone. The problem was the smell! The air was thick with it, a cloying stench that rivalled the open sewers of medevil London, so bad he could actually taste it. Suddenly he remembered that striking a match will clear a room of offending odours. Reaching for his Vestas he took out five (to be sure) and sparked them off. At that point one of the flaring match heads broke away and landed directly on top of a pile of bath towels. These then caught fire. The flames licked up the side of the bath igniting the shower curtain. Panic gripped him, grabbing the burning towels he thust them into the toilet and flushed. Next he pulled the shower curtain and pole down into the bath and turned on the shower. Although he averted the distaster of the house burning down the damage in the bathroom was collosal and it still stank of shit! Forgetting love our hero then climbed through the window and legged it to the pub. Needless to say he never saw her again.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 16:33, Reply)
A charming tale about runny shit
When I was 9, I came back early from a friends party with severe stomach cramps. I went and sat myself on the loo and started ejecting heavy bouts of liquified faeces. I had been sat there for about 10mins when the door suddenly burst open to the left of me. Being a typically very small council-house-downstairs-shitter, the door collided with my dangling legs and forced me over the side of the toilet. I managed to stop myself from falling right off with an outstretched hand but it meant my shit-spattered rectum was pointing skywards. I craned my head round and saw my Aunty Katherine peering round the door.
"Ooh, sorry!", she said - as well she fucking might.
I can still see the horror on her face as she briefly came to terms with the sight before her and the smell of my satanic poo.
At least I wasn't wanking.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 16:17, Reply)
Wedding Crapper


Whilst still a youngster at my uncles wedding, I had spent the day showing people to their seats as it is the duty of an usher. Throughout the evening dodgying various old relatives who wanted to dance / kiss me i stumbled upon a few bottles of champagne which me and a few friends decided to polish off. Now i'm not sure what happened next because i was only 11 at the time, i remember a friend falling into a pond, another running into a stone bird bath and me, well I shat myself, not normal shat, runny shat all down the inside of my rented suit. Good job I'm from the country, whipped off the kecks, threw them in the pond and a few docking leaves got rid of the shat and i was as good as new, albeit without any kecks.

The next morning my suit went back to the rental place, who was a family friend without being washed.

I pity who ever had to wash those shit stained trousers.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 15:58, Reply)
Another one...
I remember when i was a kid at primary school (a not particularly posh private school) we held a regional cross-country championships. I wasn't competeing, however, but mid-way through the afternoon (we had no lessons so we could watch) I decided i needed a dump, so off to the toilets i went. splashdown accomplised, i looked at the floor and saw something sticking out from under the partition, that looked like discarded underpants.

Sure enough, some dirty sod had shat themselves and made one hell of a mess of his shreddies, but left the shitty pants on the floor of the cubicle. why had no attempt been made to flush them away or hide them? all became clear when looking in the bowl. inside was an enormous turd at least a foot long and curved like a walking stick or shepherd's crook, which changed colour from orange to baby-poo green. it was huge, and obvious it wasn't going anywhere fast. said pant-messer obviously had a bit of a teddy's leg situation, but, looking at what made it into the bowl, i spose he was lucky he made it when he did!
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 15:57, Reply)
I like to relax....
.... by lying under a glass coffee table whilst a close person female friend of my choosing drops a foal on the glass above me.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 15:50, Reply)
Squat toilets.
Ah...

Actually it is really damn comfortable on the bowels (but not on the legs) using a squat toilet. Somehow squatting spreads you out a bit more, and it just eases out beautifully. Also, no part of your body touches the toilet, also good. Two issues:
- Finding somewhere to put your pants when they are lowered. Don't want to shit in them, do we?
- Knowing that if suddenly your knees stop working you will be sitting in your own shit.

This is when I went to Japan on exchange. Fun fun. Didn't learn much Japanese, but I did get a good insight on stuff. On a similar note, the dorm we stayed in at shared bathing facilities. Everyone was naked. Except for the 5 gaijin clutching tiny towel thingies to their groin areas. After the first time we waited until everyone was gone. Wasn't so bad then. Large space between washing areas, and afterwards we had the giant HOT onsen all to ourselves. To you fools thats a hot japanese bath. We could only stay in for about 5 mins before we literally overheated and had to get out to avoid heatstroke. For hours afterwards you could do whatever you wanted to and still stay toasty. Including wearing nothing but a t-shirt and sweatpants in the middle of winter in a cheap freezing school dorm room. But toasty.

On that first night, the worst part was when one of the Japanese students yelled out "A! CHISAI CHIMPO" ("AH! SMALL PENIS!" or therabouts). Everyone knew that this was just a joke, but it was uncalled for.

PS: Japanese people have small penises.

ahhh. so many memories... actually i took a cool photo of instructions on how to use a squat toilet for foreigners in a tourist hotspot. hilarious.

Apologies for length of writing.
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 15:29, Reply)
Not quite a toilet story..
... more one concerning the lack of one.

Glastonbury 2004. Wondering around the busy commercial/food area with my wife. I felt teh telltale churn in my gut that was telling me that an anal waterfall was imminent. Oh dear. SO I headed towards the nearest toilet-block, beginning to panic slightly, because it was a fair distance and there would be queues of the large variety when I got there.

Another nasty churn of the guts. Condition critical. I clenched hard, and continued waddling to the loos. Not looking good.

Yet another churn. I am not going to hold this puppy back for much longer. By now I was still 500 metres from the bogs, and plainly not going to make it.

I sent my wife ahead, as I did not want her seeing what was about to transpire, and found the most secluded patch I could find that was in 30 seconds waddle of where I was. It was a grassy patch right next to a burger van and a little fenced of stream. In full view of everyone.

I squatted and did what needed to be done as quickly as possible and exited hastily, to rejoin my wife. Not many people had walked past while I was comitting this shameful act.

While walking away, my wife told me of an argument she had just overheard:

"... yes he was, that bloke was taking a shit."
"No he wasn't."
"Yes he bloody was - why don't you go back there and take a look. Right next to the burger van."
"No way..."
(, Tue 6 Sep 2005, 15:26, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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