Hmmm poo

Where to start.

Well, went to the Bug Jam about 3 years ago, long lines of blue portaloos, apart from one that a bunch of peeps had turned upside down before throwing it on it's side, for their mate to emerge from dyed blue and looking a bit worse for wear.


PS My Ridgeback - Rex likes eating horse shit, just out of interest.
Or, my friend Laurence, years ago returning pissed up from the pub to his mum's place, falling over in the street level of drunk, usual thing, trying to be quiet at about 1.00AM, prodding the key in various places hoping to find the key hole on the back door, eventually got the door open, but no lights were on, so tries to find the switch, goes carefully feeling his way along the wall in case he falls over, or knocks something over, after a few minutes padding around, he finds the light switch, as he switches it on there is the sudden horror of seeing the kitchen walls, worktops and door covered in dog shit hand prints, where he fallen in the street, took him about 2 hours to clean it up.

Me, years back lived in a place called Elmstead Market (Essex coast), one day went for a walk alone a stretch of what I thought was beach, but more like river estury near a place called Clear Point, walking along the "beach", mt right leg suddenly disappeared into the ground to my knee, Mrs Scooby grabbed me and we muttered about how dangerous it was etc and went back home, I took my boots off and slung them in the garage.

Few days later I noticed they were bright blue, which was odd, until I remembered the stretch we were walking on walk next to a static caravan site, and their sceptic tank was obiviously over spilling all the way down the beach - uuurrgh.

Another shitty dog experience...

Just remembered a very traumatic bus journey about 10 years ago when I was dog-sitting a shit-zu (apty named dog as it turned out). I lived in Camden and was invited to supper and stay the night at a friend's house in Putney. So I blithely accepted and hopped on the bus with the dog. It was a crowded double-decker at 6 pm on a Friday night and I was right at the front on the top floor cos it's a long ride and wanted to enjoy the view. Just as we were reaching Fulham the dog started getting restless so I put her on the floor where she proceeded to do a large squidy turd. Help, I thought. But it didn't end there........she did 3 more heaps of rottweiler proportions at which point I covered them sections of my unread newspaper, grabbed the dog and fled the scene of the crime. The smell on the bus was overpowering. I jumped off the bus just before Putney bridge and trudged the last couple of miles, but as the traffic was so slow the bus crawled along beside me for most of it with me thinking I was about to be questioned by the irate driver. Actually it was such a traumatic experience that I'd managed to blot it out until now! (The next day I took a taxi back to Camden - I couldn't risk a replay...)

Two for you...

One from my old student days - one drunken evening a housemate announced he could 'piss out of his arse at will'. A complete biological impossibility but he was having none of it. A betting war commenced. A few minutes later a group of us followed him into the bathroom, where he stood in the bath then proceeded to take the shower head off the little hose you attatch to the bath taps, turn on the water, shove it up his arse, squat and 'pissed water out of his arse'. Much hysterics, but it's not pissing and his bet was lost. However, he repeated it and as anyone who's seen I'm A Celebrity Give Me An Enema will attest, promptly released a little brown escapee into the bath which he then pushed down the plughole with a finger to the sound of people shouting in disbelief. The bath was never used again...fortunately we had another shower room!

Second story is when I was giving a medical friend a helping hand by drinking a 140ml pot of double cream then letting them take blood later on to check for cholesterol levels. That much double cream is about twice as much as the daily recommended intake for a bloke - quite a lot in one go. I went out that night for a few beers and managed to end up going home with a young lady. Next morning I woke up nice and early with the urge for a post-beer cock-a-doodle-poo. Fortunately, her bedroom was next to the loo...not far to go. Unfortunately, having that much concentrated fat in your poo really, really increases the bouyancy of them. This shit would just not go down. Six flushes later and they'd finally been persuaded to go out to sea. When I got back to the room the girl had been woken up by the sound of excessive flushing and was wondering what the hell I'd been doing. Needless to say, I didn't see her again!