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 Post subject: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 1:59 
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Russell Sprouts wrote:
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People: threads are free to start. Please do so for interesting topics like the most expensive thing you bought etc rather than hiding them away in bits n bobs.

Zardoz's 'Johnny Cash' moment a few days ago got me thinking about some of the things of a delicate nature that get posted here, and whether some of them wouldn't be better in a dedicated thread.

So, coincidentally, I think I strained my jacksy a couple of weeks ago and it was quite painful for a few days to eject the logs. At my age I start thinking there may be something fundamentally wrong when this happens, particularly as it takes me longer to recover from injuries of any kind these days, compared to when I was young and fit. However, I am pleased to report that my motions are now passing with only the usual amount of discomfort.

Feel free to add your observations or impart your own sagas.


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 10:46 
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Good to hear.

It's the day after my Christmas do today. I'm surprised I'm up and feeling ok tbh, but I made a conscious effort to drink half sensibly. I spoke to a couple of the guys who ate at Mumtaz with me last night and they all suffered from the screaming abdabs the next day.

Today my stools are good to soft.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 11:40 
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Ah, excellent, gross-out stories about ringpiece issues and all the rest, my cup of tea methinks. :D

I had a blind boil right inside my ear once, deep in the ear canal, many years ago. It had been festering for weeks on end, driving me absolutely bonkers. I'd been putting Savlon on it and all the rest, but it made absolutely no difference (I guess because, being blind, it was well under the skin).

It reached the stage where even the slightest touch to my ear felt like an electric shock; I couldn't even put on a T-shirt without wincing and my eyes streaming. Finally, one morning, I decided I'd simply had enough. I grabbed my old school compass and, being of a scientific nature ;) , decided to 'play safe' by heating the little, fat needle over the gas stove, before dipping it in antiseptic. Then, using the bathroom mirror, I tried to locate the boil and started stabbing at it with said compass needle.

Fuck me, the pain was unbelievable; my eyes were absolutely streaming and I could not prevent myself from screaming out loud. Each time I stabbed harder and harder, before squeezing my earlobe to death, all to no avail - just blood and clear shit running everywhere, more pain, but no relief. I realised that I wasn't going deep enough.

Taking a deep breath, I stabbed that fucking compass needle so hard, like you would not believe - the pain was utterly unbearable. Having done this, I squeezed the fucking thing for the fiftieth time and... "PICKKKKKK!" The loudest zit-popping noise you've ever heard.

I've never seen post-bombing aerial pictures of Dresden during the closing stages of WWII, but I imagine they are as of nothing compared to the state of that feckin' mirror! :D White shit had sprayed everywhere; I wouldn't have thought it was even physically possible to contain such a huge volume of matter in one's pinna. The tear ducts in my eyes were into overload, I felt as though someone had clocked me so hard on the nose as to almost knock me out... but fuck me, the blessed relief of getting rid of that fucker was sheer joy.

(My sister, who is a nurse, later told me that what I had done was just about the stupidist thing evarrr and I could have got blood poisoning etc., so don't try this at home - go to the doctors like any normal, sensible person. Me, though, I couldn't be arsed, I was on my bike within approx. 10 mins. :D )

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 11:44 
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That sounds like a truly satisfying story Cavey! :spew:


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 13:21 
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Hey, I'm glad you appreciated it Vision mate.

Harumph. I thought I might at least get a reaction from Zarzie on this one, after all the effort I put in, regaling everyone about my troublesome boil home removal-fest of the past. Quite cerebral, I thought. :D

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 13:29 
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You repeatedly and forcefully stabbed a compass needle into your ear canal? Presumably just a few millimetres from the ear drum? Blood poisoning is just one of a number of things that could have gone impressively wrong here!


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 Post subject: Re:
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 13:32 
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Doctor Nadolig wrote:
You repeatedly and forcefully stabbed a compass needle into your ear canal? Presumably just a few millimetres from the ear drum? Blood poisoning is just one of a number of things that could have gone impressively wrong here!


Maybe it did and wasn't noticed?

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 13:32 
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Ha! Good stuff cavey. That's even better than a friend of ours who fell over when drunk, cut her chin open and then stitched it back up before she went to bed.

Me, I'm a big wuss.


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 Post subject: Re:
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 13:33 
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Doctor Nadolig wrote:
You repeatedly and forcefully stabbed a compass needle into your ear canal? Presumably just a few millimetres from the ear drum? Blood poisoning is just one of a number of things that could have gone impressively wrong here!


Indeed, and you'd think I'd have known better too, as a qualified acoustic engineer even then. Stupid plonker.
Funny though, no? :)

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 13:34 
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Funny, gross, and with a satisfactory ending :hat: :)


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 13:35 
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GoodKingWrongceslas wrote:
Ha! Good stuff cavey. That's even better than a friend of ours who fell over when drunk, cut her chin open and then stitched it back up before she went to bed.

Me, I'm a big wuss.


Oh man, I reckon that's even worse! (Plus, the thought of a ham-fisted fool like me trying to sow anything together - let alone my own chin, whilst pissed up to boot, would be truly terrifying. Kudos to your friend, she sounds like my kinda gal mate!)

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 Post subject: Re: Re:
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 13:41 
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Captain Caveman wrote:
Indeed, and you'd think I'd have known better too, as a qualified acoustic engineer even then. Stupid plonker.
Funny though, no? :)


It'd certainly explain why we can never seem to get you to listen :kiss:

The only real disgusting thing I've had to do was clear my ears after the pressure of SCUBA diving well and truly packed them with wax. I spent a good week practically deaf before Miss Malabar got fed up and gave me a hand. With a shower nozzle into my ear, cotton buds and olive oil etc. we managed to pull out a good egg cup full of the stuff. It took days for the soreness to go, but I'll never forget the weird sensation of getting my hearing back after all of that time; even quiet things felt deafening for a while until I got used to my senses again.


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 13:50 
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I've had potty troubles recently :(

Ever since I went to the dentist about three weeks ago I've not been able to get out a whole one.

Keeps doing a Richard Prior on me..

"And you know what really bother me? sometimes you get half a shit out and yo' asshole don't cooperate with you and clench up and break the shit in half. And you be mad as a motherfucker too, 'cos you know you gotta wipe yo' ass for like, five hours and shit. Use twelve rolls of toilet paper on that mother fucker"

I've been on the juice, not really helped. Just made them softer and messier. I've tried loads of fiber but it just makes the half bigger, but the other half just as big.

Fookin' PITA, literally.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 13:52 
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I totally came off my pushbike on the way home from a friends house. right over the handlebars it was. I woke up in the gutter with a cab driver asking me if I was OK. Obviously, numbed by 12 tins of Fosters and several glasses of Pimms ,I was, so cycled home and looked down and I had blood on my trousers. I thought this was from my hands so I went home as it had been a pretty pro accident. I got home and put my pushbike away and went to clean my teeth before going to bed and I was then I looked in the mirror and didn't have half my chin. I was a bit concerned by this so I had a cigarette, and made a cup of coffee before calling NHS direct. They told me to go to the hospital ASAP so I called a cab and went to the petrol station to get some more fags and then spent 5 hours in A+E where I got 10 stitches ouTside my face and two inside. I stopped counting after the 12th bit of gravel was removed. Which is why I have a scar on my chin. JUST LIKE HAN FUCKING SOLO BITCHES.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 14:14 
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A few years back, I went to a mates house for some gaming and beers one sunny afternoon. We had a swell time and I decided to head home for dinner around 4.30ish and walked to my house about 15 minute walk away. The journey home required that I cross at least two main roads through the city and it was approaching rush hour and the traffic was already really heavy.
The warm sunny day decided to change to an absolute downpour in a matter of minutes. I was soaked to the skin in less than 60 seconds, hair gel running in my eyes, my phone and wallet sodden.
While stood by the side of a major road, waiting for a gap in the traffic to cross, I realized how desperately I needed to pee.
You know that look you see on peoples faces when they pee in the sea?....
I did it by the side of the road….

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 14:15 
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I've skipped over John Coffey's one. I really do fear that might be too much too much information.


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 14:38 

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Heh, my gf got stuck in incredibly bad traffic on the section of the A41 between Hemel Hempstead and J20 of the M25 and spent most of it desperate to pee. Eventually she had to just abandon her car and make a dash for the grass verge. I wasn't with her, but I gather there wasn't much in the way of cover and certainly no way of not making it obvious that she was taking a piss at the side of the road. Got a few beeps and wolf-whistles for that I gather.

I personally don't have much in the way of gross stuff. There was the time last year when I had one of my back teeth taken out, but I think I've told that story here before.

Basically, I had a badly decayed tooth at the back of my gob that badly needed removing. The removal process was bad enough, as the tooth fell apart as the dentist tugged on it, so I had to endure an age of the dentist and her nurse removing small pieces of tooth from my mouth. The dentist showed me what was left, largely a mammoth root, and told me to swill the area with plenty of mouthwash the next day.

Later in the day, the anaesthetic started to wear off and I was left feeling like I'd been punched hard in the face. My cheek actually looked a bit swollen and the pain lasted the whole day. The following morning, I got up, cleaned my teeth and had a big swill of mouthwash as directed by the dentist. This time I felt like Mike Tyson had clobbered me multiple times straight in the same cheek. My eye started to water, but the tears stung like hell. My nose started to run. It was then that I noticed that instead of mucus, it was pink mouthwash running out of my nostril. The stinging tears were, likewise, made of mouthwash. I was crying mouthwash. To make matters worse, a slight whistling noise started to develop from somewhere between my nose and mouth whenever I breathed or spoke.

Understandably, I called in sick from work and went straight back to the dentist. It turned out the massive root from the removed tooth had evidently worked its way into my sinuses and its removal had left a small hole. Apparently this does happen, although it's extremely rare and my dentist had only encountered it once before. The actual hole healed itself pretty quickly over the next day or so, but the sinus got infected and I had pretty nasty flu symptoms for the next few days.

In summary then: not much fun. Don't go putting mouthwash in your eyes, kids!


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 14:41 
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EggnogCoffey wrote:
I've had potty troubles recently :(


Nothing worse than a bad poo.

The absolute worst poo ever was had by me in The World's End pub in Camden.

I had travelled from Liverpool to London that day and was meeting up with a bunch of forumers from an old Killing Joke forum. Anyway, we met in said pub in Camden. We got there early in the evening and around 7ish I went to the toilets.

TO BE MET WITH HORROR.

The toilets were frankly abysmal. So I had a pressure-relieving wee and got back to the others. Everything was fine until 10pm at which point I had the sort of stomach cramp that makes you want to fall on the table and start writhing like John Hurt.

I carefully negotiated the thin, rubbish, spiral staircase down to the toilets which were by this time the Somme. A chap going in before me said 'fucking hell' before picking the lesser of two evil cubicles. Leaving me with literally the worst ever toilet ever.

Now I don't know about youse lot but I ask for four things when using a public toilet.

1. A locking door. A rarity I grant you but it's nice to have.

2. Toilet paper. Obviously.

3. A toilet seat.

4. For every surface to not be covered in piss.

This toilet failed on every count. And to add extra fun had ONE OF THESE right in the middle of what was the most blocked toilet in history. At this point I'm perched and miserable, trying to deal with three hours of stomach churn.

The only positive was that that morning I purchased a small pack of pocket tissues which were like fucking gold dust at that point. To be fair it was a tough battle but it got me to the point where I could at least vacate the pub and get to another toilet nearby.

Not my best night out ever.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 14:52 

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I cannot use a public loo for number 2s. Couldn't do it. I'd just have to put up with the crippling stomach cramp. The only reason I was able to get by in my last job (what with it being too far to drive home in case of lunchtime emergencies) was that there was a largely unused building that we tested printer hardware in, which had loos that still got cleaned every night by the cleaners, and to which I had a security pass for, being as I worked in tech support. I figured the bogs in that building were probably cleaner and got less use than my one at home, so was able to perch myself fairly happily in there.

This is why I can't go to music festivals. I've always wanted to go to Glastonbury, but last year the missus went without me. She had a jolly old time, whilst I was at home fuming with jealousy. She confirmed my fears about the toilets not being up to my needs and I'm not sure I could go the whole weekend without having a shit. I wouldn't admit it to her, but I was secretly a bit pleased when she wasn't able to get tickets this year so she can't bugger off there without me again.


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 15:00 
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Zio Ho Ho wrote:
I cannot use a public loo for number 2s. Couldn't do it. I'd just have to put up with the crippling stomach cramp.


Well the choice at that point was endure the horror or shit my pants. The stomach cramps were my body's way of saying 'let go'. Which wouldn't have been ideal at a forum meet or indeed anywhere. Was properly bleak times. I couldn't have possibly walked anywhere at that point and any kind of shat-o-incident would have made the tube journey home (Camden to Tooting Broadway) less preferable than suicide.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 15:06 
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Zio Ho Ho wrote:
I cannot use a public loo for number 2s. Couldn't do it. I'd just have to put up with the crippling stomach cramp.


:this:

I've paid the price for that a few times though. In the U.S most of the toilets in public places were amazing. They even had a janitor guy in there handing you soap and a bottle of aftershave if you need to spruce up before going out. There was a few times though that they werent' so pretty and I tried to hold off until getting home.

Something in the USA (I'm not sure what the fuck it was, but it was related to eating out.. Maybe the ammount of sugar in the fountain soda?) would often give me terrible stomach cramps within an hour of eating out and I would have explosive diareah (sick, CBA to look for the spelling today).

Any way this one time on July 4th we went to Cracker Barrel. Lovely place, lovely food. Outside they have old style high back wicker rocking chairs that you can go out for a fag and a bit of fresh air ETC. Any way I felt the cramps coming and asked the ex wife if we could just go home. She was cool and we got in the car. Sadly though it was about 7 miles home which was too far. For the first couple of miles I just sat there sweating buckets with my stomach making the most awful noises. Then after about five miles I started to get this incredibly bad stabbing pain in my rectum that was shooting up the front of my abdomen. Literally like I had glass in my bum.

I managed to writhe around in agony before reaching the farms just before our house. I knew it was coming and I wasn't going to make it (only had about 300m left to go too) so I instructed the wife to stop the car, gave her instructions to return back home, get some bog roll and come back.. I took off running into a corn field and stealthily hid myself behind some rows of corn. Down came my trousers and it literally came out immediately. It began with a semi soft part but then I just let out this enormous wet fart as the rest came splashing out.

Afterward I've never felt such relief in my life. There must have been a puddle behind me and the sweating began to subside and this tremendous feeling of wellbeing came over me. There I was crouched, calfs and thighs killing me from the hands on knees balancing act I was doing with my trousers round my ankles. It sucks, because you have to sort of lean back to stop yourself from shitting into your trousers.

Any way, crouched there for what seemed like forever.. And then it happened.

Now fireworks are illegal in New Jersey. You're only allowed to have them at proper displays that is taken care of by your local township. However, the next state over (Delaware) will sell any one fireworks as they're legal. So what normally happens is people smuggle them over the Delware bridge into NJ.

So yeah. There I was stood doing my best to hide when all of a sudden BOOM and an enormous flash of light. It seems the farm house right in front of where I was hiding decided to do some 4th of July celebrating of their own. I tried my best to hide myself better but because of the flashing and light people were driving past in their cars only to see me doing this precarious balancing act standing in front of a puddle of shit.

The wife turned up after about ten minutes but that was literally the worst ten minutes of my life.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 15:26 
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Sorry man, but...

.... Bwahhahahahah!!!!!!1111 :DD

That just made me spill my drink, I'm still sniggering now. I suppose you could've said 'I say,...nice evening for it, wouldn't you say?', or something. POTW for me, man. Class.

Great thread. :D

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 15:32 
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Est. 1978

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Zio Ho Ho wrote:
I cannot use a public loo for number 2s.

Me neither.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 15:34 
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I prefer not to but will if necessary. I'll manufacture a toilet seat cover out of bog roll first though.


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 15:40 
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Okay, this has got my creative juices flowing.

Bad toilet setpiece situations? A fair few years ago now, I was doing a bunch of surveys with a colleague for a new client, who was a really nice chap but rather quiet and reserved, the kind of bloke you'd have to tone things down for, considerably in my case.

Anyway, cut a long story short, we'd been on the road, site to site, for weeks on end, days and nights, and had had a right dodgy late night cuzza the night before. I've a stomach of wrought, cast iron, but even I was feeling a bit dodge that next morning (my colleague had spent the night boiking it all up, so wasn't on great form; I had to do all the pleasantries as a result).

We'd been sat down for around half an hour of so, and I was becoming ever more aware that my arse wasn't going to let me put things off for much longer - critical mass was imminent. As soon as I reasonably could, I politely asked where the gents were and was directed to a tiny little room with lockable WC and external urinal. I shuffled in, pull down my kecks, but then - nightmare scenario - heard someone else come in.

Well, you know what it's like, I felt embarrassed to 'let go' as it were, with someone outside, in such a small (highly reverberant I might add) unventilated environment, but whoever it was seemed to be taking a fucking age. After a few moments of this, I could wait no longer, and the entire world was expelled from my ringpiece at high temperature and supersonic speeds. The noise was incredible and obviously resultant of a giant 'shart' situation, made even worse I think by the doubtless realisation of whoever was on the other side must've surely known I'd been purposely waiting to do it on his account and could obviously hold it in no longer. Mind you, this was just the start of the problem as the ensuing stench was quite intolerable, pure hydrogen sulphide I have no doubt - even I was gagging. I heard embarrassed, hasty coughing and a very quick exit - thank fook for that, eh readers?

Anyway, I finished the 'Exxon Valdiz' style clean up operation with around three rolls of paper and multiple flushes also, not to mention copious use of the bog brush thankfully provided, before returning to the meeting. I immediately knew something wasn't quite right though; there was an embarrassed silence before the client eventually remarked '... blimey, it sounded like the start of a pigeon race in there!'

Oh dear. :D

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 15:46 
SupaMod
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Hmm, I've got a few stories along these lines, from helping to operate on my father-in-law in a busy hospital to coming in my own eye. We'll go for this one, though (which some of you might already know):

A young and hip Grim... DJed at a party one Friday night, and on Saturday borrowed his (at the time, she's now the wife) girlfriend's Ford Ka to drop some rented disco lights back at the disco shop. There had been plenty of beer at the party, so young Grim... was a bit hungover. He stopped at a local shop and bought some Lucozade.
As some of you know, Mrs Grim... has cystic fibrosis. It's a genetic disease that stops your body from being able to deal properly with, er, fluids. Not pee, but suffers have trouble regulating their sweat, digestive fluids or mucus, or sometimes more than one. Mrs Grim... has the last two. Anyway, the mucus that most people are designed to get rid of will build up in her lungs until it makes her choke, because she's effectively drowning. Ingesting high doses this mucus is apparently bad for you, so anything you choke up you should spit on the floor like a chav*, or into a tissue, or whatever. Obviously she doesn't want to spit on the floor of her car, so she uses a tissue. And, at this time, she was going through a particularly "bad patch", and ran out of tissues, so she used an empty bottle.
An empty Lucozade bottle.
So, yes, young Grim... came out of the shop, dumped his bottle in the car door, drove along a bit, grabbed the bottle out of the cup holder, opened it, and drank it.
He was thirsty.
He drank hard.

Let's just say that it didn't taste very nice. It was also cold, grey and somewhat lumpy, or 'clumpy' would be a better word. Grainy, too.
I got out of the car.
I was exorcist sick.

*I honestly can't understand people who think it's okay to spit on the floor in public. I mean, really? Really?

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 15:46 
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Esoteric

Joined: 12th Dec, 2008
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Captain Caveman wrote:
Sorry man, but...

.... Bwahhahahahah!!!!!!1111 :DD

That just made me spill my drink, I'm still sniggering now. I suppose you could've said 'I say,...nice evening for it, wouldn't you say?', or something. POTW for me, man. Class.

Great thread. :D


Thankfully that only happened twice. The other times I could hold it.. God knows what caused it tbh.

I can't complain though. A friend whom I house shared with out there had Krohns. And that poor fucker would need to carry a roll with him wherever he went. Daily we would be out in his car, he would come to a screeching halt in a layby and just take off into the fields. Horrible way to live tbh. Mind you we did used to laugh about it.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 15:51 
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Grim... wrote:
What Grim... said!

:) :D :DD :facepalm: :spew:


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 15:54 
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Oh fuck me. You win Grim... mate. :spew: :spew: :spew:

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 16:01 
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Grim... wrote:
from helping to operate on my father-in-law in a busy hospital to coming in my own eye.


*whinces whilst pissing himself laughing*

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 16:07 
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EggnogCoffey wrote:
A friend whom I house shared with out there had Krohns. And that poor fucker would need to carry a roll with him wherever he went.


On safari in Kenya, there were six of us on a bus going round one of the sites at around dawn. One guy was having gut trouble and managed to convince the driver that there was no option but to let him out for a shite. Given that we were deep in big cat country, the only way he would let this happen is for the guy to squat right in the middle of the road, while the remaining 5 of us plus the driver stood in an outward facing circle around him looking for suspicious looking rustlings in the grass. I'm pretty sure that was a damned awkward shite.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 16:12 
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Crasmas Pudding wrote:
EggnogCoffey wrote:
A friend whom I house shared with out there had Krohns. And that poor fucker would need to carry a roll with him wherever he went.


On safari in Kenya, there were six of us on a bus going round one of the sites at around dawn. One guy was having gut trouble and managed to convince the driver that there was no option but to let him out for a shite. Given that we were deep in big cat country, the only way he would let this happen is for the guy to squat right in the middle of the road, while the remaining 5 of us plus the driver stood in an outward facing circle around him looking for suspicious looking rustlings in the grass. I'm pretty sure that was a damned awkward shite.


It's a horrible illness tbh. Apparently he passes large chunks of undigested food :(

So bad was it in his teens (he didn't know what was causing it) he tried to commit suicide. Eventually they figured out it was Krohns and apparently caused by his dad being exposed to agent orange during Nam.

Ed. It's actually Crohns. FFS I can't even spell it right.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 16:18 
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EggnogCoffey wrote:
Grim... wrote:
from helping to operate on my father-in-law in a busy hospital to coming in my own eye.


*whinces whilst pissing himself laughing*

It hurts.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 16:20 
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Grim... wrote:
EggnogCoffey wrote:
Grim... wrote:
from helping to operate on my father-in-law in a busy hospital to coming in my own eye.


*whinces whilst pissing himself laughing*

It hurts.


Well I can't say I've tried it but I have recieved fingernails to the buttocks a couple of times for inflicting it on the ex.

Very salty apparently :D

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 16:26 
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Captain Caveman wrote:
I immediately knew something wasn't quite right though; there was an embarrassed silence before the client eventually remarked '... blimey, it sounded like the start of a pigeon race in there!'

Oh dear. :D


:DD


My worst ever toilet incident had to bloody happen at the top of bloody Snowdon, didn't it. Fortunately for me there's a café at the top. Unfortunately for every other bloody bugger who'd chosen to visit that day, the toilets were small and ridiculously busy. My experience was somewhat like yours, Cavey; you could cut the tension (and smell) in the room with a knife as I left that cubicle.

And then I had to walk back down again and get in the car for a couple of hours' journey before I could get home and sort myself out with a bit more dignity.


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 16:40 
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Man I just took a look at my circs from the poo incident. It was actually 14.9 miles. Amazing how things seem closer when you live in a big place. I suppose you just get used to commuting long distances..

Any way, this is how bloody unlucky I was. Green circle is where I had to perform the deed (right in front of that fucking farmhouse in the cornfield) and red circle was where I lived.


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 17:15 
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Oh god, I'm still wretching at Grim...s story. Come in the eye does hurt, like, a lot. It stings for ages then it feels like you've been punched right in the eye ball and you can hardly open it because it feels like it's full of grit. Please be more careful when shooting your loads, boys.

I refuse to use public toilets for no.2s as well. I don't eat at festivals to overcome the need to poo. I have my very own toilet at work but I wouldn't use that either.

Heh, one afternoon Ramsea and I were feeling full of the joys of spring and retired to the bedroom for cuddles. During the rolling around, we some how managed to phone my mother. And leave a message on her answer phone. The shame of it was made worse by how hilarious my stepdad thought it was.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 17:37 
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I can remember being at my parents one Christmas about 18 or 19 years ago when my nephew was a very young baby. I was sat at the kitchen table having a scotch with my dad, chewing the cud as it were, when the obvious sounds of my sister and brother in law getting it on started coming from the baby monitor on the table next to us.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 17:39 
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EggnogCoffey wrote:
Man I just took a look at my circs from the poo incident. It was actually 14.9 miles. Amazing how things seem closer when you live in a big place. I suppose you just get used to commuting long distances..

Any way, this is how bloody unlucky I was. Green circle is where I had to perform the deed (right in front of that fucking farmhouse in the cornfield) and red circle was where I lived.

Whats the red pointy thing for? Where you dragged your arse over the ground to clean it?


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 18:37 
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MincePieOfDensity wrote:
EggnogCoffey wrote:
Man I just took a look at my circs from the poo incident. It was actually 14.9 miles. Amazing how things seem closer when you live in a big place. I suppose you just get used to commuting long distances..

Any way, this is how bloody unlucky I was. Green circle is where I had to perform the deed (right in front of that fucking farmhouse in the cornfield) and red circle was where I lived.

Whats the red pointy thing for? Where you dragged your arse over the ground to clean it?


:D

Odd you say that I had a really bad bike accident there. The road surface is basically tar with sharpstone thrown into it so the tractors can get a grip. Flying from a bike and landing on your elbow isn't such a good idea then.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 19:44 
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markg wrote:
I prefer not to but will if necessary. I'll manufacture a toilet seat cover out of bog roll first though.

I always do this if I do need to use a public loo.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 19:52 
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I have read this thread while eating. :)

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 19:58 
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Stage 1 - Go to see friend at university
Stage 2 - Get very drunk
Stage 3 - Get very stoned
Stage 4 - Go to bed
Stage 5 - Fail to sleep
Stage 6 - Decide to summon natures own anaesthetic to aid sleep. Due to state of mind the wank will be long, and drawn out
Stage 7 - Toss tissue aside. Fall into semi coma
Stage 8 - Wake up following morning with raging hangover and desperate thirst
Stage 9 - Neck half pint of water sat at side of bed
Stage 10 - Sense wet tissue hit nose, gag reflex and funny taste.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how to give yourself an accidental blow job.


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 20:17 
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Going back to the bike accident.

The second time I went to the U.S (for the long haul) I decided I wanted to take my cherished PK ripper with me (BMX). I stripped it down and put it in a large cardboard box and then sent it via cargo to Philadelphia. IIRC it cost about £100.

Any way, got it from cargo and when I got back I realised one of the large locknuts was missing from the back wheel. They were G-sport ones and about the size of a 50p to stop the alu frame taking a pounding on the dropouts. So, I went down to the barn and got a smaller one from an old buckled wheel there (brother in law's).

Put it all together and took off up the driveway you can see in the pic (between the red circle and red arrow). Just as I got to the red arrow I was doing a good chunk of speed. Very light alu bike with good gearing and 13 stone behind it.. I reakon at least 15mph. As I turned into the road and went back on the pedals the back wheel twisted due to the odd sized locknuts, jammed in the frame and sent me flying as I was leaning right over the front of the bike peddling as hard as I could. As I flew over the bars everything went into slow motion and I thought "FUCK ! FACE !". So, I put out both of my arms and folded them over my face.

I landed about 7 ft in front of the now stopped dead bike and the full weight of the impact (13 stone and the momentum) all landed on my right elbow on a road made from black top and sharpstone. The rest was a bit of a daze but I just remember rolling around on the road groaning and in agony before being scooped up by the farmer nextdoor, put in his car with his concerned wife driving and taken back to the house. At which point my mother in law almost fainted and went white and I remember asking her why but she wouldn't tell me.. "Here, just put this wet washcloth over and and we will get you to the hospital".

I'm an incredibly squeamish sort of person so I didn't bother to ask what was wrong with my elbow. I already knew it was fucking bad from the state of my legs and trainers (covered in clarot). When I got to the hospital they shot me with some morphine, laid me on my stomach and proceeded to start working on it.. I just remember seeing a pair of scissors pass my face, then some cotton wool soaked in iodine and then a really cold sensation and the feeling of fingers inside my arm, literally under the skin. Stitches went in and on the last couple I could feel them as I had been laying there so long.. Got home and then my ex wife explained to me that basically what I'd done was scalp my elbow. You could literally see the bones where they connect and the elbow joint had a grind mark on it. They cut away all of the torn flesh with scissors before grabbing the skin with forceps, stretching it over to my forearm and stitching it up with a rubber tube sticking out to let it drain. It was fucking disgusting apparently and I remember before I went into surgery a black guy saying to me "hey brother, you're leaking" and looking on the floor toward the doors and seeing huge drips of blood.

It took fucking months to heal and after it did heal the skin felt tight for ages :(

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 20:42 
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I have a pile. Just one, agonizing bumgrape. Grrr.


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 20:47 
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Captain Caveman wrote:
Hey, I'm glad you appreciated it Vision mate.

Harumph. I thought I might at least get a reaction from Zarzie on this one, after all the effort I put in, regaling everyone about my troublesome boil home removal-fest of the past. Quite cerebral, I thought. :D

Sorry Cavey, I've only just read the story. Well done for not fucking yourself up mate. I too have had similar puss sacks about my person, sebaceous cysts to be precise. The first one was in my armpit when I was about 15, I was terrified it was something life threatening so I left it for ages before making an appointment at the Drs. It was the size and shape of a duck egg cut in half and the bastard burst in the waiting room! It was a horrible sensation having the smelly puss run down my side. The other two I've had have been on my head (due to shaving it I think) both cut out at the Drs under local anaesthetic. The second one was quite amusing as my wife was with me. She pissed herself laughing when he injected through the cyst itself and sprayed across the room. Having your head stitched up under local feels very odd.

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Thu Dec 23, 2010 20:58 
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EggnogCoffey wrote:
Zio Ho Ho wrote:
I cannot use a public loo for number 2s. Couldn't do it. I'd just have to put up with the crippling stomach cramp.


:this:

I've paid the price for that a few times though. In the U.S most of the toilets in public places were amazing. They even had a janitor guy in there handing you soap and a bottle of aftershave if you need to spruce up before going out. There was a few times though that they werent' so pretty and I tried to hold off until getting home.

Something in the USA (I'm not sure what the fuck it was, but it was related to eating out.. Maybe the ammount of sugar in the fountain soda?) would often give me terrible stomach cramps within an hour of eating out and I would have explosive diareah (sick, CBA to look for the spelling today).

That's the funniest thing I've heard for ages. Thank you.

Any way this one time on July 4th we went to Cracker Barrel. Lovely place, lovely food. Outside they have old style high back wicker rocking chairs that you can go out for a fag and a bit of fresh air ETC. Any way I felt the cramps coming and asked the ex wife if we could just go home. She was cool and we got in the car. Sadly though it was about 7 miles home which was too far. For the first couple of miles I just sat there sweating buckets with my stomach making the most awful noises. Then after about five miles I started to get this incredibly bad stabbing pain in my rectum that was shooting up the front of my abdomen. Literally like I had glass in my bum.

I managed to writhe around in agony before reaching the farms just before our house. I knew it was coming and I wasn't going to make it (only had about 300m left to go too) so I instructed the wife to stop the car, gave her instructions to return back home, get some bog roll and come back.. I took off running into a corn field and stealthily hid myself behind some rows of corn. Down came my trousers and it literally came out immediately. It began with a semi soft part but then I just let out this enormous wet fart as the rest came splashing out.

Afterward I've never felt such relief in my life. There must have been a puddle behind me and the sweating began to subside and this tremendous feeling of wellbeing came over me. There I was crouched, calfs and thighs killing me from the hands on knees balancing act I was doing with my trousers round my ankles. It sucks, because you have to sort of lean back to stop yourself from shitting into your trousers.

Any way, crouched there for what seemed like forever.. And then it happened.

Now fireworks are illegal in New Jersey. You're only allowed to have them at proper displays that is taken care of by your local township. However, the next state over (Delaware) will sell any one fireworks as they're legal. So what normally happens is people smuggle them over the Delware bridge into NJ.

So yeah. There I was stood doing my best to hide when all of a sudden BOOM and an enormous flash of light. It seems the farm house right in front of where I was hiding decided to do some 4th of July celebrating of their own. I tried my best to hide myself better but because of the flashing and light people were driving past in their cars only to see me doing this precarious balancing act standing in front of a puddle of shit.

The wife turned up after about ten minutes but that was literally the worst ten minutes of my life.


That's the funniest thing I've heard in ages, thanks JC. :DD

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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Fri Dec 24, 2010 1:17 
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And there was me thinking I wouldn't get many posts on this thread. Seems we all like to talk about our excretion problems after all.

I usually have a yoghurt with my breakfast. I have found that my digestion has improved since I started doing this. I am on 'oliday this week, thus my usually eating habits are out of the window, and I haven't had a yoghurt in a couple of days. What I have instead, is rather a lot of noisy flatulence. And a bathroom that it nothing like soundproof. And lots of friends and neighbours popping in to pass on Christmas pleasantries. I'm back on the yoghurt tomorrow, as I have a fondness for sprouts and Mrs W prepares lots to go with our Christmas Dinner, so I need to build up my wind resistance again. :DD

I find it interesting how many of you dislike laying a cable in an unfamiliar facility. I'm not keen myself, but as I've got older and less sensitive, it bothers me less these days.

I did the Kielder Challenge a few years ago. It's a weekend of physical and mental tasks in the Keilder Forest, one of which is for your team to build its own shelter for the night. There are very few toilets in the Kielder Forest (I know it's hard to believe, but I assure you it's true) and on awakening on Sunday morning in a fresh and chilly clearing, the thing foremost in my mind was where I was going to go to rid myself of the churning remains of the previous night's al fresco repast. It's really very obvious to your colleagues that you're going for a dump when you try to wander off nonchalantly, carrying a bog roll, especially when you have to keep looking back to work out when you'll be out of their line of sight, AND not in view of any of the other teams. But I have to say that even though it was a glorious relief when I squatted behind a tree and relaxed the sphincter, I still felt slightly guilty about leaving my steaming, foetid clinkers in that bit of pristine woodland.


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 24, 2010 1:25 
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Ah, there's nothing like the knowing nod as you and your friend head off into the woods in opposite directions in the morning after a rough night, is there.

JC: how's your elbow now? Any cool scars?


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 Post subject: Re: Too Much Information
PostPosted: Fri Dec 24, 2010 1:27 
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Or the knowing nod as you walk off in the same direction.

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