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What's the etiquette here??
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Brendan Bendar wrote: »Don’t read walls of text myself,E , so I haven’t a clue what you are on about.
Edit
Read some of it, and that kernt is a wrong ‘un.
Have to say, B, if my hole gasping like a “landed fish” I’d be heading straight to the docs.
This isn’t some “slightly” burst ring piece, it’s a full on ass-spasm. Wouldn’t be waiting that one out. You wouldn’t know where you’d end up. No pun intended.Emmet you never had sticky swap-back from partner? I think you did and you acknowledged taste was not so foul as she had complained. We used to do this with a mouth full of gummy bears. Some users of illicit drug (very nasty) fantasised on forum (and reportedly carried out) self facial by lying on back and lifting bum against wall or bedside, and raising legs high so that penile is pointed at face. Key here is that damage is already done by time regret kicks in.
I believe that’s called a “snowball”, A. Wouldn’t have been a popular “act” when I was younger or when I met my current partner. And she’s no shrinking violet, she let me “wear her ring”, if you follow me, on our first time together.
That “regret” you mention is a real sobering moment, a lot of things are “hot” leading up to the “vinegar strokes”.
To any ladies out there, reading this, if you ever want something from a guy ask just before he’s about to “blow” and if you ever want an honest answer, ask him just after.“It is not blood that makes you Irish but a willingness to be part of the Irish nation” - Thomas Davis
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Update: returned from holidays in Spain, France, Italy, and Balkans.
Stayed in variety of well furnished homes, mainly with quiet, young German couples who preferred to mind own business.
Typically there was abundance of cheap but stylish furnishings: wicker laundry baskets, Habitat floor lamps, Turkish Kilims, bedside lockers from IKEA, Forsa Work Lamps, rice paper lampshades for ceiling, white walls, cork notice boards dotted with useful tips for travelers, toothbrushes and miniature tubes of Colgate in protective plastic sheaths, refreshing mist, single-use lemon scented refreshing towels, Q-Tips in sealed polyethylene wraps, little bottles of branded mouth wash etc.
Kitchens and bathrooms were typically outstanding, with stainless steel fridges, humidity controlled vegetable drawers, Krupp’s coffee pod machines (adequate), superior counter space, stone floors, and Jacuzzi steam showers (disappointing).
When I first started to experience back passage sensitivity and anal tract irritation it was perhaps my fourth night on south coast of Spain.
I’d with a diet which, since disembarkment, comprised only of fresh fish, beer, and sangria.
I was eating well and enjoying life.
Cracking open a beer every morning at 9.30 before strolling through a variety of promenades, beaches, Jewish quarters, and old towns.
Subsisting then, in the afternoons, on shellfish, octopus, eel, john dory, cuttlefish, prawns, and haddock (perfect dietary homogeneity).
On the fourth day as I explored old-town, anal mouth started to convulse wildly as if wet-nurse was pumping clammy brown anus lips with plunger. It felt like bowel was slowly and painfully being stretched out by large jam jar, and I was quickly reduced to a shivering, wide-eyed, wreck of human being. At turns deeply paranoid, with creeping social-anxiety, cold sweats, tingling on spine, dizziness, nausea, low self-confidence etc.
Here I am, about to buy an ice cream when I am hit with immediate need to discharge. Anus mouth feels like it is gaping and yawning inside pants, or perhaps it is sucking sweetly on bowling ball, and turtling is imminent.
Again and again I have ran to grubby little cafes and sat on filthy throne for ten minutes, as other customers knock on door, and waiters enquire if I require something more.
But thing is, no matter how much my ring-piece throbs and gapes, only discharge is watery brown droplets. No satisfaction is had.
I enter and exit restroom after restroom, exhausted, sweating, weak at knees, cross-eyed, awaiting for next attack.
Around this time I met a beautiful young Japanese tourist travelling alone in Spain.
We were single occupants of elevator ride to top of Metropol Parasol in Seville around 11.45pm. I pumped her full of hot waste at apex of Parasol.I went very deep on this lady, and through slim cotton blouse I have tugged on her nips while rutting as we acknowledged beauty of city, and buckle strap for Canon camera made me itch.
Still I don’t know if child will be produced.
And it is impossible to reconnect.
Another day I fell asleep on beach and when I awoke crowning had occurred in shorts At night, I disturbed gentle young couples with repeated trips to shared bathroom (adjacent to their bedrooms.) Pressure on blowhole sounded like elephant cleaning trunk, and fibers of anal flora, sawdust, silken-pieces, and smelly water are spat out into toilet bowl at 2.00AM, 3.00AM and again 4.00AM.
This situation was exacerbated when one night, very drunk, I bought frozen pizza.
When I got home, experiencing treble vision and lack of commonsense, I emptied out what I thought was half a jar of chilli flakes onto pizza (already stupid) but next day I realised it was jar of entire chilli pods.
Oh my poor pickled hole.
I was emotional for several days, easy to tears, sick as a dog, with burning anal cavity. The only excretion was fiery drops of anus water and sometimes sitting on the toilet, I would decide to pull my penile, for which, only a very painful and watery discharge would occur, as I sat above my bowl of juice and slime, with negligent solids.
In France, it is not much better.
One minute I was enjoying masterpiece by George Braques, Matisse, the Fauvists - next minute I am haunched over toilet basin, sweating and groaning over pretty pickled hole. As opening stretches and convulses, I would push with all my might but only thing I hear is drip, drip, drip from stretched-out ring-piece, as cold sweat seeps from forehead.
It was like sound of thick soup passing very slowly though fine sieve.
Drip drip.. drip.
At this time I felt my anus mouth could accommodate two tins of spaghetti. Time and time again I am embraced with chills, persecuted by poorly-paid table staff, and even though it is middle of summer, at night I have heating up to threshold,.
After many days, faecal matter started to solidify somewhat and resemble pieces of coral; highly perforated, dissolving slightly in the water, floating several millimeters above the porcelain, breaking down slowly and releasing slender, woolly strings of white chalky chite into bowl.
This reminds me of Filipino man I met on travels many years ago (already spoke about this guy before).
The house she rented was above average (especially considering wages.) With stainless steel fridge, industrial sized freezer, finest shower I have ever experienced (usually I like to I like to have warts pressured off by extreme force of water (hydrotherapy), but in this shower, even I have turned down water power to 60%.
I must contact her to discover brand although surely she will not remember eight years past). But in this house (and this is a thing which has infuriated me on my travels in Spain), she has had one of those glass top induction ovens (make: Corbero)(I have 8 rings of gas in my house, always choose gas when I have had the option, but even “hot plate” system in Tralee was better).
Anyway I am struggling to operate this facility, they are not recognising my fingerprints, I am pressing too hard, or too soft, too long, not long enough, but Filipino woman’s fingers work a treat.
So every time I needed to work the induction oven, only her fingers will work on “glass top”. Needless to say that I have pumped her in excess of thirty times beside or on top of glass top for this reason, even spilling semen on glass top which was still hot.
These Spanish think that glass top is nice to look at, but it is hideous and cheap, no tactile buttons, no depressing of key, neither click, not confirmatory punch, also masterboard is not manufactured to last with faulty capacitors and diodes.
Anyway I have shot sticky pearly load on glass top induction cooker and how we laughed at gluey smell.
I asked her to lick it up, but she rightly complained that glass top would scald tongue, so I came on floor instead.
One thing: newly tiled floors in Spain are usually not to my liking.
Firstly I find large tiles that are not, for example terracotta, to have veneer of cheapness, smaller tiles at least are preferable. And second, as she has been collecting semen between grouting with tongue, I have noticed breadcrumbs, pubic hairs, and other detritus on the floor (note: these items would not have been revealed so easily on concrete floor, wooden floorboards, or linoleum).
Still she collected hot waste all the same from grouting and tiled surface.
Occasion I remember most vividly for floor was very first time.
When, after drinking many soda pops on journey over, and with masturbation session in airport during delay without cleaning of glans head or urethral opening, I have ejected ‘spitter-spatter’ explosion of watery semen droplets all over the white tiled floor (combination of liquid heavy diet and coagulated semen in urethral tunnel have sent semen water in every direction.)
She have crawled and licked up watery droplets over about 3 square meters.
Again, and to my discomfort, with debris from daily life in grouting: pubic hair, breadcrumbs, hair from head, bugs, dust.
Another time she drank full load from large duplex block that had been left by friend. Again, immediately after ejaculation such activity no longer seemed hot, but as I could not renege on masterplan, I have become aware of detritus in duplex block of what looks like dandruff or dried skin, synthetics from clothing, dried mucus, hairs.
Anyway, after shooting load on glass top a few times I have decided to leave pasta, onions, garlic and cheese for this beautiful petite lady by way of compensation for tricky to clean loads .
Now, back passage excretions have returned to normal - with soft doughy deposits that you could easily crush against the inside of the toilet bowl with a spoon.
I have noticed that turds easily break of their own volition along rich, lighter coloured seams.
Outside is smooth, inside looks like wet chipboard. Smell is unpleasant.0 -
JohnnyFlash wrote: »Think that’s one of that chancer Peterson’s 12 rules for life.
Indeed John Boy.
For a curry, you drink pale ale or a good lager
Stout is for stews or s Good steak.
I imagine after a vindaloo and a few pints of stout, the ring would be destroyed.0 -
Update: returned from holidays in Spain, France, Italy, and Balkans.
Stayed in variety of well furnished homes, mainly with quiet, young German couples who preferred to mind own business.
Typically there was abundance of cheap but stylish furnishings: wicker laundry baskets, Habitat floor lamps, Turkish Kilims, bedside lockers from IKEA, Forsa Work Lamps, rice paper lampshades for ceiling, white walls, cork notice boards dotted with useful tips for travelers, toothbrushes and miniature tubes of Colgate in protective plastic sheaths, refreshing mist, single-use lemon scented refreshing towels, Q-Tips in sealed polyethylene wraps, little bottles of branded mouth wash etc.
Kitchens and bathrooms were typically outstanding, with stainless steel fridges, humidity controlled vegetable drawers, Krupp’s coffee pod machines (adequate), superior counter space, stone floors, and Jacuzzi steam showers (disappointing).
When I first started to experience back passage sensitivity and anal tract irritation it was perhaps my fourth night on south coast of Spain.
I’d with a diet which, since disembarkment, comprised only of fresh fish, beer, and sangria.
I was eating well and enjoying life.
Cracking open a beer every morning at 9.30 before strolling through a variety of promenades, beaches, Jewish quarters, and old towns.
Subsisting then, in the afternoons, on shellfish, octopus, eel, john dory, cuttlefish, prawns, and haddock (perfect dietary homogeneity).
On the fourth day as I explored old-town, anal mouth started to convulse wildly as if wet-nurse was pumping clammy brown anus lips with plunger. It felt like bowel was slowly and painfully being stretched out by large jam jar, and I was quickly reduced to a shivering, wide-eyed, wreck of human being. At turns deeply paranoid, with creeping social-anxiety, cold sweats, tingling on spine, dizziness, nausea, low self-confidence etc.
Here I am, about to buy an ice cream when I am hit with immediate need to discharge. Anus mouth feels like it is gaping and yawning inside pants, or perhaps it is sucking sweetly on bowling ball, and turtling is imminent.
Again and again I have ran to grubby little cafes and sat on filthy throne for ten minutes, as other customers knock on door, and waiters enquire if I require something more.
But thing is, no matter how much my ring-piece throbs and gapes, only discharge is watery brown droplets. No satisfaction is had.
I enter and exit restroom after restroom, exhausted, sweating, weak at knees, cross-eyed, awaiting for next attack.
Around this time I met a beautiful young Japanese tourist travelling alone in Spain.
We were single occupants of elevator ride to top of Metropol Parasol in Seville around 11.45pm. I pumped her full of hot waste at apex of Parasol.I went very deep on this lady, and through slim cotton blouse I have tugged on her nips while rutting as we acknowledged beauty of city, and buckle strap for Canon camera made me itch.
Still I don’t know if child will be produced.
And it is impossible to reconnect.
Another day I fell asleep on beach and when I awoke crowning had occurred in shorts At night, I disturbed gentle young couples with repeated trips to shared bathroom (adjacent to their bedrooms.) Pressure on blowhole sounded like elephant cleaning trunk, and fibers of anal flora, sawdust, silken-pieces, and smelly water are spat out into toilet bowl at 2.00AM, 3.00AM and again 4.00AM.
This situation was exacerbated when one night, very drunk, I bought frozen pizza.
When I got home, experiencing treble vision and lack of commonsense, I emptied out what I thought was half a jar of chilli flakes onto pizza (already stupid) but next day I realised it was jar of entire chilli pods.
Oh my poor pickled hole.
I was emotional for several days, easy to tears, sick as a dog, with burning anal cavity. The only excretion was fiery drops of anus water and sometimes sitting on the toilet, I would decide to pull my penile, for which, only a very painful and watery discharge would occur, as I sat above my bowl of juice and slime, with negligent solids.
In France, it is not much better.
One minute I was enjoying masterpiece by George Braques, Matisse, the Fauvists - next minute I am haunched over toilet basin, sweating and groaning over pretty pickled hole. As opening stretches and convulses, I would push with all my might but only thing I hear is drip, drip, drip from stretched-out ring-piece, as cold sweat seeps from forehead.
It was like sound of thick soup passing very slowly though fine sieve.
Drip drip.. drip.
At this time I felt my anus mouth could accommodate two tins of spaghetti. Time and time again I am embraced with chills, persecuted by poorly-paid table staff, and even though it is middle of summer, at night I have heating up to threshold,.
After many days, faecal matter started to solidify somewhat and resemble pieces of coral; highly perforated, dissolving slightly in the water, floating several millimeters above the porcelain, breaking down slowly and releasing slender, woolly strings of white chalky chite into bowl.
This reminds me of Filipino man I met on travels many years ago (already spoke about this guy before).
The house she rented was above average (especially considering wages.) With stainless steel fridge, industrial sized freezer, finest shower I have ever experienced (usually I like to I like to have warts pressured off by extreme force of water (hydrotherapy), but in this shower, even I have turned down water power to 60%.
I must contact her to discover brand although surely she will not remember eight years past). But in this house (and this is a thing which has infuriated me on my travels in Spain), she has had one of those glass top induction ovens (make: Corbero)(I have 8 rings of gas in my house, always choose gas when I have had the option, but even “hot plate” system in Tralee was better).
Anyway I am struggling to operate this facility, they are not recognising my fingerprints, I am pressing too hard, or too soft, too long, not long enough, but Filipino woman’s fingers work a treat.
So every time I needed to work the induction oven, only her fingers will work on “glass top”. Needless to say that I have pumped her in excess of thirty times beside or on top of glass top for this reason, even spilling semen on glass top which was still hot.
These Spanish think that glass top is nice to look at, but it is hideous and cheap, no tactile buttons, no depressing of key, neither click, not confirmatory punch, also masterboard is not manufactured to last with faulty capacitors and diodes.
Anyway I have shot sticky pearly load on glass top induction cooker and how we laughed at gluey smell.
I asked her to lick it up, but she rightly complained that glass top would scald tongue, so I came on floor instead.
One thing: newly tiled floors in Spain are usually not to my liking.
Firstly I find large tiles that are not, for example terracotta, to have veneer of cheapness, smaller tiles at least are preferable. And second, as she has been collecting semen between grouting with tongue, I have noticed breadcrumbs, pubic hairs, and other detritus on the floor (note: these items would not have been revealed so easily on concrete floor, wooden floorboards, or linoleum).
Still she collected hot waste all the same from grouting and tiled surface.
Occasion I remember most vividly for floor was very first time.
When, after drinking many soda pops on journey over, and with masturbation session in airport during delay without cleaning of glans head or urethral opening, I have ejected ‘spitter-spatter’ explosion of watery semen droplets all over the white tiled floor (combination of liquid heavy diet and coagulated semen in urethral tunnel have sent semen water in every direction.)
She have crawled and licked up watery droplets over about 3 square meters.
Again, and to my discomfort, with debris from daily life in grouting: pubic hair, breadcrumbs, hair from head, bugs, dust.
Another time she drank full load from large duplex block that had been left by friend. Again, immediately after ejaculation such activity no longer seemed hot, but as I could not renege on masterplan, I have become aware of detritus in duplex block of what looks like dandruff or dried skin, synthetics from clothing, dried mucus, hairs.
Anyway, after shooting load on glass top a few times I have decided to leave pasta, onions, garlic and cheese for this beautiful petite lady by way of compensation for tricky to clean loads .
Now, back passage excretions have returned to normal - with soft doughy deposits that you could easily crush against the inside of the toilet bowl with a spoon.
I have noticed that turds easily break of their own volition along rich, lighter coloured seams.
Outside is smooth, inside looks like wet chipboard. Smell is unpleasant.
What the utter be jaysusin f*ck did I just read ? !0 -
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Update: returned from holidays in Spain, France, Italy, and Balkans.
Stayed in variety of well furnished homes, mainly with quiet, young German couples who preferred to mind own business.
Typically there was abundance of cheap but stylish furnishings: wicker laundry baskets, Habitat floor lamps, Turkish Kilims, bedside lockers from IKEA, Forsa Work Lamps, rice paper lampshades for ceiling, white walls, cork notice boards dotted with useful tips for travelers, toothbrushes and miniature tubes of Colgate in protective plastic sheaths, refreshing mist, single-use lemon scented refreshing towels, Q-Tips in sealed polyethylene wraps, little bottles of branded mouth wash etc.
Kitchens and bathrooms were typically outstanding, with stainless steel fridges, humidity controlled vegetable drawers, Krupp’s coffee pod machines (adequate), superior counter space, stone floors, and Jacuzzi steam showers (disappointing).
When I first started to experience back passage sensitivity and anal tract irritation it was perhaps my fourth night on south coast of Spain.
I’d with a diet which, since disembarkment, comprised only of fresh fish, beer, and sangria.
I was eating well and enjoying life.
Cracking open a beer every morning at 9.30 before strolling through a variety of promenades, beaches, Jewish quarters, and old towns.
Subsisting then, in the afternoons, on shellfish, octopus, eel, john dory, cuttlefish, prawns, and haddock (perfect dietary homogeneity).
On the fourth day as I explored old-town, anal mouth started to convulse wildly as if wet-nurse was pumping clammy brown anus lips with plunger. It felt like bowel was slowly and painfully being stretched out by large jam jar, and I was quickly reduced to a shivering, wide-eyed, wreck of human being. At turns deeply paranoid, with creeping social-anxiety, cold sweats, tingling on spine, dizziness, nausea, low self-confidence etc.
Here I am, about to buy an ice cream when I am hit with immediate need to discharge. Anus mouth feels like it is gaping and yawning inside pants, or perhaps it is sucking sweetly on bowling ball, and turtling is imminent.
Again and again I have ran to grubby little cafes and sat on filthy throne for ten minutes, as other customers knock on door, and waiters enquire if I require something more.
But thing is, no matter how much my ring-piece throbs and gapes, only discharge is watery brown droplets. No satisfaction is had.
I enter and exit restroom after restroom, exhausted, sweating, weak at knees, cross-eyed, awaiting for next attack.
Around this time I met a beautiful young Japanese tourist travelling alone in Spain.
We were single occupants of elevator ride to top of Metropol Parasol in Seville around 11.45pm. I pumped her full of hot waste at apex of Parasol.I went very deep on this lady, and through slim cotton blouse I have tugged on her nips while rutting as we acknowledged beauty of city, and buckle strap for Canon camera made me itch.
Still I don’t know if child will be produced.
And it is impossible to reconnect.
Another day I fell asleep on beach and when I awoke crowning had occurred in shorts At night, I disturbed gentle young couples with repeated trips to shared bathroom (adjacent to their bedrooms.) Pressure on blowhole sounded like elephant cleaning trunk, and fibers of anal flora, sawdust, silken-pieces, and smelly water are spat out into toilet bowl at 2.00AM, 3.00AM and again 4.00AM.
This situation was exacerbated when one night, very drunk, I bought frozen pizza.
When I got home, experiencing treble vision and lack of commonsense, I emptied out what I thought was half a jar of chilli flakes onto pizza (already stupid) but next day I realised it was jar of entire chilli pods.
Oh my poor pickled hole.
I was emotional for several days, easy to tears, sick as a dog, with burning anal cavity. The only excretion was fiery drops of anus water and sometimes sitting on the toilet, I would decide to pull my penile, for which, only a very painful and watery discharge would occur, as I sat above my bowl of juice and slime, with negligent solids.
In France, it is not much better.
One minute I was enjoying masterpiece by George Braques, Matisse, the Fauvists - next minute I am haunched over toilet basin, sweating and groaning over pretty pickled hole. As opening stretches and convulses, I would push with all my might but only thing I hear is drip, drip, drip from stretched-out ring-piece, as cold sweat seeps from forehead.
It was like sound of thick soup passing very slowly though fine sieve.
Drip drip.. drip.
At this time I felt my anus mouth could accommodate two tins of spaghetti. Time and time again I am embraced with chills, persecuted by poorly-paid table staff, and even though it is middle of summer, at night I have heating up to threshold,.
After many days, faecal matter started to solidify somewhat and resemble pieces of coral; highly perforated, dissolving slightly in the water, floating several millimeters above the porcelain, breaking down slowly and releasing slender, woolly strings of white chalky chite into bowl.
This reminds me of Filipino man I met on travels many years ago (already spoke about this guy before).
The house she rented was above average (especially considering wages.) With stainless steel fridge, industrial sized freezer, finest shower I have ever experienced (usually I like to I like to have warts pressured off by extreme force of water (hydrotherapy), but in this shower, even I have turned down water power to 60%.
I must contact her to discover brand although surely she will not remember eight years past). But in this house (and this is a thing which has infuriated me on my travels in Spain), she has had one of those glass top induction ovens (make: Corbero)(I have 8 rings of gas in my house, always choose gas when I have had the option, but even “hot plate” system in Tralee was better).
Anyway I am struggling to operate this facility, they are not recognising my fingerprints, I am pressing too hard, or too soft, too long, not long enough, but Filipino woman’s fingers work a treat.
So every time I needed to work the induction oven, only her fingers will work on “glass top”. Needless to say that I have pumped her in excess of thirty times beside or on top of glass top for this reason, even spilling semen on glass top which was still hot.
These Spanish think that glass top is nice to look at, but it is hideous and cheap, no tactile buttons, no depressing of key, neither click, not confirmatory punch, also masterboard is not manufactured to last with faulty capacitors and diodes.
Anyway I have shot sticky pearly load on glass top induction cooker and how we laughed at gluey smell.
I asked her to lick it up, but she rightly complained that glass top would scald tongue, so I came on floor instead.
One thing: newly tiled floors in Spain are usually not to my liking.
Firstly I find large tiles that are not, for example terracotta, to have veneer of cheapness, smaller tiles at least are preferable. And second, as she has been collecting semen between grouting with tongue, I have noticed breadcrumbs, pubic hairs, and other detritus on the floor (note: these items would not have been revealed so easily on concrete floor, wooden floorboards, or linoleum).
Still she collected hot waste all the same from grouting and tiled surface.
Occasion I remember most vividly for floor was very first time.
When, after drinking many soda pops on journey over, and with masturbation session in airport during delay without cleaning of glans head or urethral opening, I have ejected ‘spitter-spatter’ explosion of watery semen droplets all over the white tiled floor (combination of liquid heavy diet and coagulated semen in urethral tunnel have sent semen water in every direction.)
She have crawled and licked up watery droplets over about 3 square meters.
Again, and to my discomfort, with debris from daily life in grouting: pubic hair, breadcrumbs, hair from head, bugs, dust.
Another time she drank full load from large duplex block that had been left by friend. Again, immediately after ejaculation such activity no longer seemed hot, but as I could not renege on masterplan, I have become aware of detritus in duplex block of what looks like dandruff or dried skin, synthetics from clothing, dried mucus, hairs.
Anyway, after shooting load on glass top a few times I have decided to leave pasta, onions, garlic and cheese for this beautiful petite lady by way of compensation for tricky to clean loads .
Now, back passage excretions have returned to normal - with soft doughy deposits that you could easily crush against the inside of the toilet bowl with a spoon.
I have noticed that turds easily break of their own volition along rich, lighter coloured seams.
Outside is smooth, inside looks like wet chipboard. Smell is unpleasant.
You are tripping off your head. Have you been getting to close to the trap fumes?
Would be interested to hear more about the Japanese tourist though.0 -
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Hey Bros i need some pistachio nuts if someone wants to go buy them and i will meet you outside Trinity and will give you 50 cents above retail.0
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Alpha_zero wrote: »Hey Bros i need some pistachio nuts if someone wants to go buy them and i will meet you outside Trinity and will give you 50 cents above retail.
Why? What's wrong with you?0 -
Advertisement
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It's all gone slightly bizarre in here0
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I was in early to the office this morning (~8.00 AM), lovely fresh clean jax from Friday evening, shotgun blasted the clean white pewter and had a cup of coffee ... round 2 is brewin' !!
Great start to the day !0 -
Did you get your nuts?Alpha_zero wrote: »Hey Bros i need some pistachio nuts if someone wants to go buy them and i will meet you outside Trinity and will give you 50 cents above retail.0 -
I hope the nuts are to help with bowel movements alphaZ..0
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Absolute scumbag threw a revolting crap in my barbers last Sat morning. Had to endure it for the best part of my haircut. Couldn’t hold my nose either. Only relief was the door opening when a customer went out. I could see him in the mirror sitting on his ring piece waiting his turn looking like he was totally entitled to do what he had just done. The lady cutting my hair didn’t say a word about it, but it was obvious that she was disgusted. Customer is always right I suppose. I kind of admire a man that can hold it together in a situation like that. That being said I hope they made a balls of his haircut.0
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Absolute scumbag threw a revolting crap in my barbers last Sat morning. Had to endure it for the best part of my haircut. Couldn’t hold my nose either. Only relief was the door opening when a customer went out. I could see him in the mirror sitting on his ring piece waiting his turn looking like he was totally entitled to do what he had just done. The lady cutting my hair didn’t say a word about it, but it was obvious that she was disgusted. Customer is always right I suppose. I kind of admire a man that can hold it together in a situation like that. That being said I hope they made a balls of his haircut.
Reminds me of when I was on a flight from Portugal a few weeks ago. Row 3, so quite close to the front toilet. I didn't see the culprit, but by the smell of it, something fetid was left behind by somebody, and they left the door ajar too (I can only assume they were in a hurry to leave). What was worse was the light came on for seat belts so couldn't get up to close door, was a rough 5 minutes or so.0 -
Reminds me of when I was on a flight from Portugal a few weeks ago. Row 3, so quite close to the front toilet. I didn't see the culprit, but by the smell of it, something fetid was left behind by somebody, and they left the door ajar too (I can only assume they were in a hurry to leave). What was worse was the light came on for seat belts so couldn't get up to close door, was a rough 5 minutes or so.
I've done that one myself, nothing accidental about the door being ajar. If they may make the booth wide enough that one could get the knees far enough apart to reach down and cleanse the hole it'd help.
There's a hole book to be written on airplane dunging, pun intended.0 -
Absolute scumbag threw a revolting crap in my barbers last Sat morning. Had to endure it for the best part of my haircut. Couldn’t hold my nose either. Only relief was the door opening when a customer went out. I could see him in the mirror sitting on his ring piece waiting his turn looking like he was totally entitled to do what he had just done. The lady cutting my hair didn’t say a word about it, but it was obvious that she was disgusted. Customer is always right I suppose. I kind of admire a man that can hold it together in a situation like that. That being said I hope they made a balls of his haircut.
Time is usually money for the type of sham that would open the cargo doors in a barber shop.
No stranger to multi-tasking, most likely rushing to the airport to head off somewhere on important company business, or would say that to justify his behaviour.0 -
Same as the OP today, there is four stalls in our jacks and picked the very last one. Some dick head decided to take the cubicle right beside me.
No Noise for a minute or two then plop,plop,plop,plop,plop and a few grunts.
YOU DON"T TAKE THE STALL BESIDE SOMEONE IF THEIRS SOME FREE.0 -
Absolute scumbag threw a revolting crap in my barbers last Sat morning. Had to endure it for the best part of my haircut. Couldn’t hold my nose either. Only relief was the door opening when a customer went out. I could see him in the mirror sitting on his ring piece waiting his turn looking like he was totally entitled to do what he had just done. The lady cutting my hair didn’t say a word about it, but it was obvious that she was disgusted. Customer is always right I suppose. I kind of admire a man that can hold it together in a situation like that. That being said I hope they made a balls of his haircut.
Was it ‘pensioners’ day by any chance.
Had the misfortune to pick that day fairly recently, was in the chair when these two auld soaks rambled in.
They weren’t two mi uted waiting when one hits for the very adjacent scutther house.
Now I’m not sure what was happening, but there was no hold back.
Huge ripper of a fart followed by what sounded like a basket of herrings being emptied into a bathtub.
Rambles back out and the whole shop reeking with the fent.
Not a bother on him, the filthy kernt.0 -
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^^ nothing worse than some old guy with a loose ****ing arsehole.
Was in a cafe once and some filthy old 90 year old kernt sits beside us having breakfast and just proceeded to fart .... went on for about 30 seconds too ... sounded like a dying whale on a beach, don't think the kernt could help it either0 -
Hector Savage wrote: »^^ nothing worse than some old guy with a loose ****ing arsehole.
Was in a cafe once and some filthy old 90 year old kernt sits beside us having breakfast and just proceeded to fart .... went on for about 30 seconds too ... sounded like a dying whale on a beach, don't think the kernt could help it either
Awful experience in Tesco a few weeks ago myself with the older generation. Walking down the biscuit isle, aul one was in front of me wheeling her trolley. Only the 2 of us in the isle. All of a sudden prap prap prap, 20 seconds of machine gun fire the likes of which not seen since the Normandy beach landings. No shame. Scampered out of there quick in case someone came along thinking it was me!
Needless to say I left the Oreos0 -
Awful experience in Tesco a few weeks ago myself with the older generation. Walking down the biscuit isle, aul one was in front of me wheeling her trolley. Only the 2 of us in the isle. All of a sudden prap prap prap, 20 seconds of machine gun fire the likes of which not seen since the Normandy beach landings. No shame. Scampered out of there quick in case someone came along thinking it was me!
Needless to say I left the Oreos
I can relate to this. Working in retail for ages, I can say without doubt that old people are the absolute worst for drive by rotten cabbage smelling farts. They don't give a ****.0 -
Awful experience in Tesco a few weeks ago myself with the older generation. Walking down the biscuit isle, aul one was in front of me wheeling her trolley. Only the 2 of us in the isle. All of a sudden prap prap prap, 20 seconds of machine gun fire the likes of which not seen since the Normandy beach landings. No shame. Scampered out of there quick in case someone came along thinking it was me!
Needless to say I left the Oreos
Aah... the auld ‘ String of Pearls”0 -
I have old folk sit in front of me in my own office and just unashamedly let loose. Not a hint of embarrassment let alone an apology. I can only look beyond it by excusing it on age.0
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partyguinness wrote: »I have old folk sit in front of me in my own office and just unashamedly let loose. Not a hint of embarrassment let alone an apology. I can only look beyond it by excusing it on age.
It's fair game so. I'd be over forcing them out into their faces on the regular if I was you. "How's the progress report coming along Tony?" - Massive fart into their eyes. I'd be constant at it. I'd be eating foods specifically to create a gaseous reaction. And i'd be hovering around their desk, crop dusting. They can say absolutely nothing to you - they've set the bar0 -
Unfortunately I can only ever foresee one winner Gerry and it ain’t yougerrybbadd wrote: »It's fair game so. I'd be over forcing them out into their faces on the regular if I was you. "How's the progress report coming along Tony?" - Massive fart into their eyes. I'd be constant at it. I'd be eating foods specifically to create a gaseous reaction. And i'd be hovering around their desk, crop dusting. They can say absolutely nothing to you - they've set the bar0 -
Have nasal issue since sojourn. Sniveling occurs constantly and nose will start to run abruptly. Feeling poorly. At work I've ran out of tissue papers and started to use kitchen towels from kitchenette until paper towels have run out and then I was forced to unroll toilet from disclosed operator. I discovered dampness on face and little speckles of brownstone. One of the most sickening experiences of life. A real sickener.,0
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Have nasal issue since sojourn. Sniveling occurs constantly and nose will start to run abruptly. Feeling poorly. At work I've ran out of tissue papers and started to use kitchen towels from kitchenette until paper towels have run out and then I was forced to unroll toilet from disclosed operator. I discovered dampness on face and little speckles of brownstone. One of the most sickening experiences of life. A real sickener.,
Stick your head in a wash basin of (strong)bleach. Once skin begins to peel off, that should do the job0 -
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Brendan Bendar wrote: »Aah... the auld ‘ String of Pearls”
A 'medley of country and western hits'.
Very popular for getting people out dancing at a wedding.
Can also have the opposite effect.0
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