A very good friend of mine who is a senior academic and old enough to know better used to have to make a regular return trip up the M40. This trip usually took about 45 mins each way so he wasn't unduly concerned one friday evening to realise about five minutes after leaving on return trip northwards that he should probably have spent a little time on the croucher before leaving.
Cue huge Traffic Jam on the M40. Some two and a half hours later he is in some serious discomfort and the traffic hasn't moved for about an hour. If only he could get to the next junction he could get in to that bog in the layby on the A40 a little south of Oxford. At last the traffic starts to move and only a few minutes later he is pulling into said layby. He had already undone his trousers to relieve the pressure and as it was late at night and dark he was starting to drop them as he made it through the door to save a few precious seconds. Some twat had nicked or broken all the light bulbs so in pitch darkness he makes his way to one of the traps as carefully as one who has the turtles head and shoulders ever can. At last! He falls onto the bog and simultaneously relaxes his tired sphincter only to discover that the bog seat was down, and that who ever had done for the bulbs had also had it away with the arsewipe...
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Friday, October 17, 2008
Further poo stories, non-academic
Dog poo.
Mates alsation liked chewing coins, especially he liked big coins like old 10p & 50p bits which he caught in his mouth, tossed up in the air, then caught in his mouth and chewed again, repeat ad nauseam. Inevitably the day comes when mate is on holiday and his parents are dog-sitting, and he swallows a 10p piece. The Vet says not to worry, he'll be a bit uncomfortable when it comes out but it won't do any damage. They hit on the idea of using his dad's Diy metal detector (for finding wires etc buried in walls) to follow the coin through the dog. They used to scan him before and after each walk. On the 4th evening he scanned clear after the walk so his mum went and scanned the dog-egg (land mine) that he'd just made and sure enough there it was. On subsequent walks she observed that as the egg bio-degraded the coin became more and more visible, then one evening the coin just disappeared, was it you?
Mates alsation liked chewing coins, especially he liked big coins like old 10p & 50p bits which he caught in his mouth, tossed up in the air, then caught in his mouth and chewed again, repeat ad nauseam. Inevitably the day comes when mate is on holiday and his parents are dog-sitting, and he swallows a 10p piece. The Vet says not to worry, he'll be a bit uncomfortable when it comes out but it won't do any damage. They hit on the idea of using his dad's Diy metal detector (for finding wires etc buried in walls) to follow the coin through the dog. They used to scan him before and after each walk. On the 4th evening he scanned clear after the walk so his mum went and scanned the dog-egg (land mine) that he'd just made and sure enough there it was. On subsequent walks she observed that as the egg bio-degraded the coin became more and more visible, then one evening the coin just disappeared, was it you?
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
A illness poo
Usually common decency dictates that if one has to take a shit, they'll hold it in until the proper facilities are available.
There are, however, exceptions to this rule.
Once I was as sick as I think I ever have been, and I was laid out on my Aunt's couch. It began by sneezing on myself, which I solved by wiping my nose on my shirt. For the second round, I threw up on myself, managing to get most of the vomit into a bucket. Though my shirt was stained and smelly, I was far too weak and sick to really care or do anything about it.
After laying in my own vomit for a while, I began to realize that I was going to have to take a shit. Well, having not done anything about trying to conceal my other bodily functions, I sure as hell wasn't going to make the effort to get off of the couch and hobble my way to a bathroom, so I promptly shit on myself.
I continued to lay on the couch, covered in vomit and poo (and the urine that is generally associated with poo) until my Aunt walked in, and mustering all of my strength, I gave her the best puppy dog face that I could muster.
You know, the kind of face that says "I'm sick and covered in shit and vomit and piss, could you lend me one of your towels?"
Needless to say, the couch was sold soon after the fact.
There are, however, exceptions to this rule.
Once I was as sick as I think I ever have been, and I was laid out on my Aunt's couch. It began by sneezing on myself, which I solved by wiping my nose on my shirt. For the second round, I threw up on myself, managing to get most of the vomit into a bucket. Though my shirt was stained and smelly, I was far too weak and sick to really care or do anything about it.
After laying in my own vomit for a while, I began to realize that I was going to have to take a shit. Well, having not done anything about trying to conceal my other bodily functions, I sure as hell wasn't going to make the effort to get off of the couch and hobble my way to a bathroom, so I promptly shit on myself.
I continued to lay on the couch, covered in vomit and poo (and the urine that is generally associated with poo) until my Aunt walked in, and mustering all of my strength, I gave her the best puppy dog face that I could muster.
You know, the kind of face that says "I'm sick and covered in shit and vomit and piss, could you lend me one of your towels?"
Needless to say, the couch was sold soon after the fact.
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