The dreaded ''Follow Through''

chillin117

Happened once on the way to a second date, I was wearing beige chino's. Thankfully I got away with it as it was not the full monty. My jocks saved the day...Phew !

I've never followed through.

Might be why I'm sh1t at golf.

My name is URL

This wouldn't even meet the minimum posting standards on Facebook

chillin117

My name is URL wrote: »

This wouldn't even meet the minimum posting standards on Facebook

Maybe but's it's life ! Sometimes you have to laugh at life. Never happened to you so ?

chillin117

chillin117 wrote: »

Maybe but's it's life !

Not really.

Considering it never really happened to you, did it, OP?

irishguitarlad

Was always told to follow through when shooting in soccer dont know how youd get in in beige chinos though.

chillin117

Deleted User wrote: »

Not really.

Considering it never really happened to you, did it, OP?

Go away..Or send me your diet !

MacauDragon

In any case you could have just asked her for a spare liner.

Women understand cause they leak more than a ww2 rhine valley dam after the raf have passed through.

enzo roco

chillin117 wrote: »

, I was wearing beige chino's.

I think I found a bigger problem than ****ting yourself!

Osgoodisgood

Flutt? You're back!

daveyeh

$hite thread

MadDog76

chillin117 wrote: »

Happened once on the way to a second date, I was wearing beige chino's. Thankfully I got away with it as it was not the full monty. My jocks saved the day...Phew !

This happened to a friend* of mine this morning!






*By friend I mean my 3 year old son obviously.

Sir Osis of Liver.

The follow through is a Rite of Passage for every proud Irishman.

stimpson

MadDog76 wrote: »

This happened to a friend* of mine this morning!






*By friend I mean my 3 year old son obviously.

Your 3 year old is going on dates?

MadDog76

stimpson wrote: »

Your 3 year old is going on dates?

No, he sh1t himself. :rolleyes:

Birneybau

This still open?

Jaysus, saw it 2 hours ago before I left work.

taytobreath

used to happen to me when ever id have a feed of bottles of stout, i dont drink them anymore because of it

qo2cj1dsne8y4k

Wait, op.. Are you talking about ****ting your pants

taytobreath

a shart?

holy guacamole

Has never happened to me in public but once, while laid up in bed with Montezuma's revenge, I made what can only be described as a terrible error of judgement.

Having been p*ssing through my arris for two days solid I was weak as a kitten, each wave of nausea convincing me that I was about to breathe my last. I'd reached the point where I refused to believe there could be any more stuff left to come out, so when what felt like a friendly little fart presented itself to my weary sphincter I just let it go having long since stopped caring.

Sadly a fart it was not. Instead it was yet another flurry of lukewarm bum water and one that was now sharing my bed with me. Cue a shivering, shaking shower, a hasty change of the blankets and a valuable lesson learned.

biko

Did you poop your trousers?

wil

This might help OP.:)

dodderangler

biko wrote: »

Did you poop your trousers?

Poop??? Really?? This is board's mate . It's called Shiite here. We ain't that posh here

spaceHopper

My kids brought home a bug from play group, it has three phases, the pukes, the ****s and when you think you are over it the silent attack where your ars just opened with out warning. My wife only admitted later it happened to her too, could have warned me the cow.

Steve F

holy guacamole wrote: »

Has never happened to me in public but once, while laid up in bed with Montezuma's revenge, I made what can only be described as a terrible error of judgement.

Having been p*ssing through my arris for two days solid I was weak as a kitten, each wave of nausea convincing me that I was about to breathe my last. I'd reached the point where I refused to believe there could be any more stuff left to come out, so when what felt like a friendly little fart presented itself to my weary sphincter I just let it go having long since stopped caring.

Sadly a fart it was not. Instead it was yet another flurry of lukewarm bum water and one that was now sharing my bed with me. Cue a shivering, shaking shower, a hasty change of the blankets and a valuable lesson learned.

Ha ha Funniest thing I've read in ages.Hilarious Thanks so much

Stigura

You lot may scoff ... But, there ate those of us who know: Ye can Never trust a fart, past fifty

Captain Chaos

The Bulmers Pear got alot of folks before they "improved" the recipe. Best over the bar laxative you could buy.

sligojoek

I was working in a pub in England one Monday morning in the late 80s. Around 11 am the bosses brother (Davie) came in and had a pint. He was in a bad way from the night before. After a while he went to the toilet. Some time later the boss (John) came down and went in around the toilets for a check up as was usually necessary on a Monday morning. He came out a few minutes later like an anti-christ and went off for the plunger and a plastic bag. He emerged a few minutes later and said, "Someone is after flushing an underpants and a pair of socks down the potty." Davie threw his eyes to heaven and said "The dirty bastard." When John went out to the bin with them, Davie started busting his hole laughing.

It turned out he was taking a leak and coughed farted and followed through at the same time. He went into the cubicle and removed his jocks and dropped them down the toilet. There was no toilet paper (My fault) so he had to use his socks.

prinzeugen

Captain Chaos wrote: »

The Bulmers Pear got alot of folks before they "improved" the recipe. Best over the bar laxative you could buy.

From another forum but the best description of the effects that stuff has..

"At a mates 40th last night with missus, and as the mood hit me, decided to forego me usual pint of the black stuff for a pint bottle of this. Lovely evening, good old craic, no worries. Second pint down, again, sure still early in the night, craic is building, nice refreshing pint and lovely weather, sure what could go wrong? Third pint, and this is where it changes. About half way through, me feels an urge to go release a load. Fuk me, that was a bit sudden, and me is always cleared out before going on the lash, what's going on here? So I says to da missus, somethings up in de aul bowel region, me gonna have to go hit the bog for a dump. Charmed by the candor that only 7 years together can create, she just rolls her eyes and says ya better get a move on then! So off me trot to the bog, grand as, just a wee bit of pressure from the Allwee cave, find a nice clean cubicle and check for bog roll - here we go, I'll be out in a few minutes, back for another pint.

Well fuk me sideways, Niagara Falls didn't have nothing on the flood that came barelling outta me hole. Mother of Jehovah, where in the name of fuk did that come from? 'Twas like shooting a water cannon of ****e at crusties at a G8 summit, unreal! Worst thing was, it was a fukin 80's theme night, and I was doing the whole Miami Vice thing with WHITE FECKING TROUSERS on!! One drop of splashback from that torrent of slurry, and my night was fukin over! Oh the sheer fukin panic, the terror, the mortification that gripped me soul!

So it finally stops, and I'm fukin bent over too afraid to look down to see the damage. Thanks be to Ezekial, me Don Johnson look was still intact, but da fukin smell nearly knocked me back into da bowl. A quick first flush to try and clear the 'bulk' of it, before embarking on the clean up operation that would put the Exxon Valdez to shame. 3 flushes and about 10 minutes later, I was done, evidence gone and colour returned to cheeks. Left cubicle like I was the owner of the gaff, washed the old laimh and back to the table again like I had just come back from having a smoke.

But as me sat down and the bowels gave me another wee rumble, dere was only one thing I could say: Julie, we're going home!

Bulmers Pear, it's pure evil, DON'T DO IT!!!! Or at least if you fukin insist on it, make sure you're close to the throan and for the love of God, DO NOT WEAR WHITE TROUSERS!!!!!"

Robsweezie

Happened me once after a dodgy mcdonalds the day before, I suspect.

Abdominal pains all day, I was googling stuff to see what it could be, maybe IBS. But anyway, I followed through, and the horrible wet feeling set in. My undies were soiled now.

Out of bed I get and into the toilet to let the rest of it out and....splattered all over the bowl, all on the insides of the lid, dripping down to the bottom sides, all over the toilet brush, on to the mat, a towel on the floor and all over the WALL.

It was just me home so I sprang into damage control with tissues and baby wipes glad/hoping I wouldn't be caught , but I wasn't a minute into clean up when I heard a car pull up into the garden.

fight or flight came over me, I never acted as quick. I managed to clean the wall, the bowl, everything in a mad panic. But I kept finding more as I pulled up the lid. I locked the door and didnt leave until there wasn't a trace left which took a good few minutes . Then I had a shower so my extended bathroom time wouldn't appear so suspicious. I needed it anyway.

The bath mat had a small dirty patch so I scrubbed it and flipped it over.


It left a stink though, and someone smelled it. They asked me if I was sick in there, which was gonna be my excuse anyway if confronted, so I successfully passed it off as vomit, less embarrassing in my eyes.

You shouldve seen the mountain of baby wipes I had to stealthily dispose of.

Although I didn't 100% get away with it, the only evidence was of course the smell, and nobody found out about the wall being destroyed with sh!t like a toddler trying to be artistic.

Hammer89

I had to take an outdoor sh*t about eight or nine years ago.

I could never understand how people - people under the age of 74, that is - could accidentally sh*t themselves. It had made no sense to me, until it nearly happened to me of course.

I was on the bus, heading to school and for the past few minutes I realised that I needed to take a sh*t, but it's usually not an emergency. "I'll hold it," I probably said to myself. But as time ran on, it became very clear that I wouldn't be able to hold it.

This was a bomb that was going to go off - it was just a matter of where. On the top deck of the 46a? "Not on my watch," I probably said to myself again. I got off the bus at the nearest stop, but it was on the dual-carraige way so sh*tting locations are limited as you might imagine.

Forunately, there was a passage way leading into a very posh Foxrock estate. I had no choice. It was find a spot in there or sh*t on the grass separating both carraige ways. I had been in this estate before, but I didn't have a clue if there was any concealed areas. For all I knew, I might've had to do this behind one of the 320 Mercedes jeeps located in most of the driveways.

But I came across a spot very swiftly - a small wooded area in which visibility was excellent, which spelt bad news for me, in my blue school jumper. I wish it had been a non-uniform day and I went as a soldier, or Tupac during his camoflage phase. But I had no time to worry about being seen now. The clock was ticking on this aforementioned bomb.

I unbuckled my belt. Before we go any further, why does the need to sh*t grow so much stronger when you're about to pull your pants down? To continue this bomb analogy, it's like snipping the wrong wire and shaving a bunch of time off the clock.

Anywho, I pulled them down and squatted over some twigs and whatnot and just went for it. You must understand that I was expecting a log or two, but when I heard a fart noise followed by a splash, like a bowling ball-sized water balloon being dropped from a great height, I knew this venture was much more messy than I anticipated.

The result? Something which looked like somebody squirted 10 tubs of Chef sauce in the same spot, but smelt like death fused with sh*t. I wish I could say I felt a million dollars, but I didn't. I botched the execution somewhat and didn't pull my cheeks far enough part to ensure it was a flawless release. I smelled and felt like sh*t walking home, but it was early in the morning so I didn't encounter anybody thankfully.

If you take anything from this tale it should be this: don't leave the house in the morning before taking a sh*t. I did, and the residents of that housing estate probably went to the Southside Times or the guards about me when they discovered what I had done. Don't make the same mistake, my friends.

armaghlad

Wtf...

smash

Hammer89 wrote: »

Anywho, I pulled them down and squatted over some twigs and whatnot and just went for it. You must understand that I was expecting a log or two, but when I heard a fart noise followed by a splash, like a bowling ball-sized water balloon being dropped from a great height, I knew this venture was much more messy than I anticipated.

That's enough internet for today....

5rtytry56

this thread is full to the brim of it. Rated Excellent.

JustShon

holy guacamole wrote: »

flurry of lukewarm bum water

What a great way to phrase it xD

Hammer89

armaghlad wrote: »

Wtf...

I'm not sure what you expected when you clicked into this thread pal - golf swing analysis?

RonanP77

Not so much a follow through as a shart.

I was over in England for a week for college, beer was £2 a pint in the bar on campus so I had quite a few. Back to my room, into bed, jocks off, settle down nicely. I never realy noticed anything until the next morning, unfortunately the sheets were white so the skidmarks were quite noticeable.

It was the last day so I just had a shower, packed up and left. I kind of feel sorry for whoever had to clean up the room.

sligojoek

I asked a friend how was his head one morning.

He said "My head is fine but I tarmacked the bed in the middle of the night."

fleet_admiral

I gambled and lost on the fart lottery when I was chatting up some bint in the pub years ago. Loads of Smithwicks on an empty stomach and trying to slip one out is not a good idea

armaghlad

Hammer89 wrote: »

I'm not sure what you expected when you clicked into this thread pal - golf swing analysis?

Fair point. Just taken a back by the vividness and gusto some people have described their experiences with!

Esel

Trainspotting...

Old Irish proverb:

"There is none so powerful as a man sitting in his own shite."