When was the last time you soiled yourself?

This thread may not cure you shitting yourself but it definitely cures depression.

Fuck all the other threads....depressing as fuck and toxic
 
bluemonday said:
I was out on the lash thursday, friday & saturday, and on sunday afternoon I took my new bird out for lunch (been seeing her for 2 weeks), I was sat at the table while she went to the ladies. While she was gone I thought I'd squeeze a fart out. Well some kind of weird shit-bubble exploded in my jeans and splashed up my lower-back, it stunk to high heaven and it stained my kecks and the bottom of my tshirt.

So i thought bollox this and just left. Went home showered and tried to ring her, but she didn't answer and she hasn't rang me since. I suppose thats the romance over. I'm not arsed really though, at least she won't be able to tell her/my mates that I shit meself.
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Don't go on that " First date " on t.v..
 
I was looking for a OT new forum posters thread or W/E to just say a quick hello and introduce myself to my fellow blues when I stumbled upon this thread and intrigued by the title I thought to myself... I'll have a look.... needless to say that was an hour or so ago and I have literally been crying real tears at some of the stories on here, and I too have been cursed with unintentional bowel moverments, and have never spoken of this before as it happens, but when in Rome.....

The first time it happened to me I was probably 14 years old, no shit (excuse the pun) it was Christmas eve of all times and my mum and dad had friends round for drinks and I took it upon myself to get involved in the action, afterall no one was keeping an eye on me really, it was 9/10pm Xmas eve and all the adults were well underway to getting blottowed so I had free reign to walk about scooping up any drinks I wanted without anyone batting an eyelid, after a while of helping myself to strongbow and vodka and the likes and feeling quite pished at this point, I stumble across my dads beloved courvoisier and proceeded to help myself to copious amounts of it mixed with coke, bear in mind my tender age of 14 I had only ever reall drunk white lightning and had little experience with hard spirits, add to the fact I had already drunk vodka and cider on this evening and I quickly found myself pissed to the point that I had found a safe spot on the top of the stairs to put my spinning head down to try to counteract the effects of all the alcohol I had consumed at such an age, I ended up projectile vomiting which was my body's response to try and eject all the hard alcohol I had consumed and I don't really remember much after that. I made it to a bed safe and sound after that :) or so I thought.... I actually only made it to my older brothers bottom bunk and literally passed out, I woke up at about 8am on Christmas day with my head fuzzier than it had ever been before in my life, and the worst hangover, the room stunk of a horrid rancid shit smell, or at least I thought it did from what normal senses I had that were working correctly, and so it transpired that after violently spewing my ring up I had also shat my older brothers bed, it was all over the sheets quilt, my boxers and my legs it was an explosion for want of another word.

Needless to say that even 20 years later just the smell of brandy brings back those memories and I have never ever touched that drink again for fear of shitting myself.
 
bluandblak said:
I was looking for a OT new forum posters thread or W/E to just say a quick hello and introduce myself to my fellow blues when I stumbled upon this thread and intrigued by the title I thought to myself... I'll have a look.... needless to say that was an hour or so ago and I have literally been crying real tears at some of the stories on here, and I too have been cursed with unintentional bowel moverments, and have never spoken of this before as it happens, but when in Rome.....

The first time it happened to me I was probably 14 years old, no shit (excuse the pun) it was Christmas eve of all times and my mum and dad had friends round for drinks and I took it upon myself to get involved in the action, afterall no one was keeping an eye on me really, it was 9/10pm Xmas eve and all the adults were well underway to getting blottowed so I had free reign to walk about scooping up any drinks I wanted without anyone batting an eyelid, after a while of helping myself to strongbow and vodka and the likes and feeling quite pished at this point, I stumble across my dads beloved courvoisier and proceeded to help myself to copious amounts of it mixed with coke, bear in mind my tender age of 14 I had only ever reall drunk white lightning and had little experience with hard spirits, add to the fact I had already drunk vodka and cider on this evening and I quickly found myself pissed to the point that I had found a safe spot on the top of the stairs to put my spinning head down to try to counteract the effects of all the alcohol I had consumed at such an age, I ended up projectile vomiting which was my body's response to try and eject all the hard alcohol I had consumed and I don't really remember much after that. I made it to a bed safe and sound after that :) or so I thought.... I actually only made it to my older brothers bottom bunk and literally passed out, I woke up at about 8am on Christmas day with my head fuzzier than it had ever been before in my life, and the worst hangover, the room stunk of a horrid rancid shit smell, or at least I thought it did from what normal senses I had that were working correctly, and so it transpired that after violently spewing my ring up I had also shat my older brothers bed, it was all over the sheets quilt, my boxers and my legs it was an explosion for want of another word.

Needless to say that even 20 years later just the smell of brandy brings back those memories and I have never ever touched that drink again for fear of shitting myself.
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Welcome to the board, you'll fit in well here!!!! :)
 
More years ago than I care to remember at secondary school a friend a couple of years below me pointed out a classmate of his, ‘that’s pip pip whoosh’. Asked him why and the following tale was related.
It was the start of games lesson and everyone was lined up in rugby kit waiting on the PE teacher. Our hero breaks wind in the ranks- “phrppp” goes one end, “fine fart” goes the other. A repeat performance of greater resonance “phrrrrrppppp” “ fine fart”. Third time’s the charm as he lifts a cheek, only this time there’s an almighty WHOOSH of free flowing brown water scattering startled schoolboys, followed by the pip pip pip of the remnants dripping from him into the stinking brown puddle at his feet. The PE teacher, a resourceful soul, observed the Caramac coloured carnage, weighed up the best way forward and threw a bucket of cold water over Mr pip pip whoosh. Now children, you’ve had your story, time for bed
 
About 14 years ago. Had a McDonalds chicken sandwich at dinner. During drive home from work my gut started bubbling just as I hit rush hour traffic jam on the motorway. No way off and a coupe of miles to the next exit. Now I’m cramping and My sphincter is puckering like a rabbits nose. I’m sweating and clenching for dear life. Each cramp bringing the molten lava closer to the exit.
20 mins later and I’ve moved about 50 yards. I can’t hold it anymore. Grab the newspaper from the passenger seat and put under me so I don’t stain my seat and unclench....... horrible 45 minute drive home from that point and I’m fucking praying my overly social neighbour isn’t out doing his garden so I can sneak indoors sharpish.
 
Didn't quite soil myself, but I was forced into an alfresco dump once. Late one night, I was walking back home on my own, when nature called - and wouldn't take 'no' for answer. Suddenly, I was absolutely busting for a shit: I tried everything to get that last half mile home, and perform the deed like a relatively civilized human being: walking on tiptoes, prayer, walking with my legs apart like a Queen Anne table. Nope, it had to be done there and then.

So I ducked onto a deserted river toepath (it was early hours, but I didn't want the chance of some poor sod having to see this, or Lily Law nicking me). It had this perfect-height wall (about a yard high, running along the river's edge). So I dropped my trousers, and did what I had to. Gotta say, it was the most luxurious crap I've had in my life: that wall was at the absolute optimum height...I didn't have to squat in the slightest.

The next day I passed near the same spot, and my 'present' was still there. Couldn't help wondering if anyone who saw it thought "Christ, how big was the dog who did that?"
 
Any songs for bowel malfunctions?

My suggestion is Cat Stevens ""Cant Keep it in" (1972)
"I can't keep it in Can't keep it in.
Gotta let it out" (From album "Catch Bull at Four")
 
Was on a big annual pub crawl in Hull, lots of people usually strung out at any one time in and between several pubs over a half mile or so. On one stretch a fart turned into a particularly wet and slightly sloppy utterance. Luckily I was alone, next to a bushy park and it was dark - so I headed deep into the bushes, carefully de-bagged and checked out the carnage.
All contained in the boxers! A quick wipe then into the bin, and I was able to proceed to the next pub loos commando-style.
Did feel a bit sorry for the local dippers though.
 
I'd been trekking for around 14 days. I'd had altitude sickness. I was quickmarching with 20kg of weight on my back from Namche Bazaar village on the edge of the Himalayan pathways to the Everest Bade Camp region and Ama Dablam mountain. I'd had a night in a village only 10km from Lukla, and the airport. I'd been sick with food poisoning or something all night and emptied my guts in many ways.

So, the next day, I thought I as okay, I'd drank loads of water and ate two rounds of toast. I walked around a wide valley passing a few closed lodges. My belly started to rumble after 15 minutes, then a a stabbing sensation in my gut followed and I started to sweat. I desperately looked for an open lodge, out-house toilet or something but all were locked and there were only 4 or 5 options.

Out of season and minus 10 celcius. The trousers were heavy waterproof winter ones. I went behind a small hydroelectric pipe and went to squat. Boom. Too late. Instant sandwich filler. At least I had sealed trousers. The temperature outside was ten below zero, and as I opened the trousers to poor out the new liquid resident, two local porters walked by. I greeted them normally, whilst half-naked, waist down and did my best to make the best of a bad situation.

I wiped myself down and added new trousers. Later I'd find am open lodge and rinse the **** out of everything. Then on arriving at the village of Lukla, I opted for a good shower and a night of rest and recovery. Dignity and Delhi belly in the mountains. Never again. Please.
 
Love this thread, always good for a laugh. Always reminds me of the Micky Flanagan story

 
I just found some bits of dried caked shit in my underpants this morning. Where did they come from? What's happening to me?
 
On a stag in Barcelona. Seafood never agrees with me. Let one go and next I knew my arse had turned into a slurry spreader. Thankfully this was in the bog and my underkecks had contained the mess. Into the bin they went and it was commando time for the rest of the evening.
 
Adidas Barry Silkman said:
My missus dropped a wet one whilst sunbathing on the beach in the med this summer and spattered her hotel beach towel in the process. Luckily the dutch tourists next door were taking a dip in the ocean so she done a quick swap with their identical towel. Job done.
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Classy...and we wonder why people around the world hate the English.
 
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