What's the etiquette here??

JohnnyFlash

Utter Consternation wrote: »

I'd a full 'discharge' this morning. I feel lighter physically and spiritually.

Shalom.

A mindful shîte? Opening the 3rd eye?

Ush1

Sausages in the fry this morning were a bit spicy and oily. Was goose stepping to the jax within half an hour. Speaking of eyes, this third eye was weeping. Took every ounce of sphincter strength to keep the rusty sheriffs badge from exploding like a broken dam.

By the time I got to the trap the legs were trembling as I was squatting into position. Que a long whales mating call of a fart, a drone like sound followed by a stream of loose midden. Twas like my arse was shouting into the bowl.

I'll have to give the vindaloo for lunch a miss.

Utter Consternation

JohnnyFlash wrote: »

A mindful shîte? Opening the 3rd eye?

I object to the use of the word 'mindful' when discussing the spiritual benefits of taking a dump. Mindfulness is only a recent fad, the spiritual rewards from taking a fantastic sh1te has been known for years.

Brendan Bendar

Ush1 wrote: »

Sausages in the fry this morning were a bit spicy and oily. Was goose stepping to the jax within half an hour. Speaking of eyes, this third eye was weeping. Took every ounce of sphincter strength to keep the rusty sheriffs badge from exploding like a broken dam.

By the time I got to the trap the legs were trembling as I was squatting into position. Que a long whales mating call of a fart, a drone like sound followed by a stream of loose midden. Twas like my arse was shouting into the bowl.

I'll have to give the vindaloo for lunch a miss.

Yes, common enough experience when the ‘roast in the oven’ is over cooked and needs to be lifted pronto.

The thing you have to be careful about is of course, the sphinct get extra ‘assistance’ when outside and in a ‘nowhere to go mode’ however when the brain sights the thunderbox all the ‘resistance ‘ seems to drain from the sphincter,and its a case of get the strides down quickly or she’ll explode for sure.

Got into that situation more than once on the golf course, one in particular when ‘running in ‘ a teal colored lightweight set of Addidas strides,before I could ensure a clear path from the muzzle, she blew a a spray of thin watery midden all over the furniture and left a large coating on the Addidass strides.

Luckily I had a set of waterproofs in the bag and managed to slip them on, but the whack of cabbage and back bacon was odious.

I even had to say to the lads, “That kernt Fahey must be spreading slurry again lads, the bang is terrible’

“Must be that pig shíte” says one of the lads “And I’ll tell you this,them pigs must have had some disease to drop something like the whiff of that”

I didn’t go near the 19th.

padd b1975

Utter Consternation wrote: »

I object to the use of the word 'mindful' when discussing the spiritual benefits of taking a dump. Mindfulness is only a recent fad, the spiritual rewards from taking a fantastic sh1te has been known for years.

Indeed.

Mental illness would be a thing of the past if people would just concentrate on life's simple pleasures.

There's an unexplainable giddiness that kicks in when you know you're going to have a peaceful session on Twyfords finest product.
A balanced diet definitely helps create the serenity of knowing that anything 'firm' and irregular in circumference will be dealt with the bare minimum of stress.

Scoundrel

You absolutely should have fired him disgraceful behaviour people who do that are truly vile. I have a system in work only 2 cubicles in the jacks so whenever I need a movement the out of order sign is stuck up on the other cubicle allowing me to sit and spray in peace.

JohnnyFlash

I was out this morning meeting a potential client, and felt some grumbling down in the engine room as I was driving back. Was near Nutgrove shopping centre, so took a sharp right, drove the Landcruiser into a space near the entrance, and made a beeline for the dunnies with a look of purpose and urgency etched across my face. Saw that one of the traps had the door closed, but with the little green indicator showing it wasn't occupied.

Shouldered in the door quickly, and was met with a frankly nauseating site. Some sicko had thrown a load of shít bills into the toilet, then unloaded a foul-smelling 'King Kong's Thumb' on top of it. The thing was standing upright, and peering out over the lid of the toilet. To add insult to injury, he had then left a single piece of paper resting on the top of it. Almost looked like some sort of giant Amazonian mushroom or fungus.

The other two stalls were occupied so I had to stand outside one, hopping from foot to foot with impatience like a scobie standing outside the Dole office waiting for the place to open. In very bad mood now as a result, and hope it doesn't affect my round of golf this afternoon.

padd b1975

JohnnyFlash wrote: »

I was out this morning meeting a potential client, and felt some grumbling down in the engine room as I was driving back. Was near Nutgrove shopping centre, so took a sharp right, drove the Landcruiser into a space near the entrance, and made a beeline for the dunnies with a look of purpose and urgency etched across my face. Saw that one of the traps had the door closed, but with the little green indicator showing it wasn't occupied.

Shouldered in the door quickly, and was met with a frankly nauseating site. Some sicko had thrown a load of shít bills into the toilet, then unloaded a foul-smelling 'King Kong's Thumb' on top of it. The thing was standing upright, and peering out over the lid of the toilet. To add insult to injury, he had then left a single piece of paper resting on the top of it. Almost looked like some sort of giant Amazonian mushroom or fungus.

The other two stalls were occupied so I had to stand outside one, hopping from foot to foot with impatience like a scobie standing outside the Dole office waiting for the place to open. In very bad mood now as a result, and hope it doesn't affect my round of golf this afternoon.

Hope you remembered to do a recce before 'opening fire'.

That's the type of scenario where one could find themselves doing the convict's shuffle into the next cubicle for wiping/power hosing/industrial cleanup.

Utter Consternation

padd b1975 wrote: »

Hope you remembered to do a recce before 'opening fire'.

That's the type of scenario where one could find themselves doing the convict's shuffle into the next cubicle for wiping/power hosing/industrial cleanup.

I had to learn the hard way before. I was on the train from Dublin to Galway following a hard weekend on the Smithwicks. It's a great drink as it has a low volume ABV so you can put away a fairly high number of them over a day and not get too bolloxed.

I always get fierce gas after multiple pints of the stuff and the following days sh1ts can be all sound and no fury so to speak, or a combination of both.

Anyways, i was on the train down home and I was letting loose some fairly fcuking raw farts. I was on red alert for sharting my pants so decided i needed to lighten the load in the jacks on the train.

Down i went to the sh1tter, dropped the kacks and shat my brains out. Mainly liquid compelled out by a strong gale force wind of fart. I reached out to the bog roll and there was fcuking nothing there...

Panic set in. I started sweating. I was still consumed by fear from the drink and the train had only passed by Clara. I didn't want to travel all the way to Galway with my uncleaned hole destroyed from Smithwicks scutter.

After some quick thinking, I developed a plan. I'd walk down to the next jacks and see if there was any bog roll.

Post sh1t, i have to admit, my arse looked like a Smithwicks influenced Pollock painting.

I pulled up the jocks and trousers, took a deep breath and crab walked down to the next set of jacks very slowly. As i left the jacks there was a pair of German tourists sitting in the two seats beside it. They turned green when i opened the jacks door. Poor cnuts. Their own personal Ausch1tz.

I was never so relieved to see Irish Rails finest sand paper bogroll in the next toilet. I ditched the jocks in the jacks and cleaned up the carnage. God help the lazy fcuker from Irish Rail who was lined up to half heartedly clean up after me. Those jocks would want to be removed in a lead lined box.


It was a lesson learned the hard way though. Always check the facilities if you know the job is going to require any form of 'paper work' at all. :cool:

EmmetSpiceland

Scutter Consternation.

JohnnyFlash

padd b1975 wrote: »

There's an unexplainable giddiness that kicks in when you know you're going to have a peaceful session on Twyfords finest product.
A balanced diet definitely helps create the serenity of knowing that anything 'firm' and irregular in circumference will be dealt with the bare minimum of stress.

Twyfords make a good product, but it’s very hard to beat a conservatively designed Armitage Shanks. They are designed in Stoke, and show all the hallmarks of being made for the more robust gentleman - one who perhaps leaves the AS factory and goes to the pub for 10 pints of warm cask ale, a pie and chips, and 4 bags of pork scratchings.

TomasMacR

JohnnyFlash wrote: »

Twyfords make a good product, but it’s very hard to beat a conservatively designed Armitage Shanks. They are designed in Stoke, and show all the hallmarks of being made for the more robust gentleman - one who perhaps leaves the AS factory and goes to the pub for 10 pints of warm cask ale, a pie and chips, and 4 bags of pork scratchings.

Agreed, If there’s one bit of design we’ve got right over this way it’s armitage shanks, the Ferrari of jacks...especially the ones decorated with a nice solid timber varnished seat. Not many around anymore unfortunately. Very comfortable, perfect height and you can drop the perfect dump which will land deep into the void and mask a lot those noxious gasses. A flush so powerful you’d never see a toilet brush for getting rid of skiddies next to it. You have to ask yourself, why the yanks have those toilets with a built in platform to present yourself with your own work when you stand up? Meanwhile as you are taking care of business your ballsack hangs and is millimetres away from massaging your own freshly laid turd. Maybe it’s some subtle American government health initiative where they make their plentiful obese slobs view the products of their daily intake and question what they are doing to their body, or getting up after a dump with shįte all over your ballsack might make you change your eating habits, who knows. Either way, these American toilets and their zero privacy partitions and doors with their 5 inch gaps for you to see in all it’s glory on the left some lad hammering away at his flute and the fella on the right stood in his heavy duty reusable Lidl bag ‘cottaging’ away, makes for a very unpleasant experience all round.

Voodoomelon

Utter Consternation wrote: »

I had to learn the hard way before. I was on the train from Dublin to Galway following a hard weekend on the Smithwicks.

Another train story. Was on an overnight sleeper in Thailand over a decade ago, from the islands in the south back to Bangkok, a hateful journey on a train older than time itself. I'd had the scutters all day as one tends to have in Thailand, so it was no surprise to wake up at 3am with a feeling of impending doom below the equator.

Jumped up from my bunk and shimmied down the isle towards the jacks in near pitch black. Mistake number one was not putting shoes on, the floor was bogging and my feet were already wet before getting near the toilets.

Toilets, that's an understatement. I swung the door open to be met with two hoops hanging from the ceiling and a bleedin hole in the floor. The clattering of the wheels over the tracks was deafening and there was a mini hurricane of wind spinning throughout the tiny room.

I still remember staring at the hole and saying out loud "ahhh what the f***!". Things were starting to boil over down below so I locked the door, dropped the jacks and grapped on to the hoops. Closed my eyes, said a prayer and opened the hatches. Christ alive is all I can say, you haven't experienced anything until you've tried to sh1te into the equivalent of a Dyson hand dryer on full blast.

Most of the deliverance hit the target, but as you would expect there was some unexploded ordnance left around the battlefield. Being Thailand, the hose in the corner actually came in handy for once. I pulled up my shorts against my soaking arse, wiped a tear from my eye and opened the door.

... to be met by another dilapidated door directly opposite which was now open. What was in there? A fully functional normal western toilet with bog roll. A little part of me stayed in Thailand that day. Mostly all over the tracks around Chumpon.

Roger Hassenforder

Voodoomelon wrote: »

Another train story. Was on an overnight sleeper in Thailand over a decade ago, from the islands in the south back to Bangkok, a hateful journey on a train older than time itself. I'd had the scutters all day as one tends to have in Thailand, so it was no surprise to wake up at 3am with a feeling of impending doom below the equator.

Jumped up from my bunk and shimmied down the isle towards the jacks in near pitch black. Mistake number one was not putting shoes on, the floor was bogging and my feet were already wet before getting near the toilets.

Toilets, that's an understatement. I swung the door open to be met with two hoops hanging from the ceiling and a bleedin hole in the floor. The clattering of the wheels over the tracks was deafening and there was a mini hurricane of wind spinning throughout the tiny room.

I still remember staring at the hole and saying out loud "ahhh what the f***!". Things were starting to boil over down below so I locked the door, dropped the jacks and grapped on to the hoops. Closed my eyes, said a prayer and opened the hatches. Christ alive is all I can say, you haven't experienced anything until you've tried to sh1te into the equivalent of a Dyson hand dryer on full blast.

Most of the deliverance hit the target, but as you would expect there was some unexploded ordnance left around the battlefield. Being Thailand, the hose in the corner actually came in handy for once. I pulled up my shorts against my soaking arse, wiped a tear from my eye and opened the door.

... to be met by another dilapidated door directly opposite which was now open. What was in there? A fully functional normal western toilet with bog roll. A little part of me stayed in Thailand that day. Mostly all over the tracks around Chumpon.

I think i'd relish the oppurtunity to drop a Fat Controller directly onto the track. Something very satisfying about it.

Brendan Bendar

Roger Hassenforder wrote: »

I think i'd relish the oppurtunity to drop a Fat Controller directly onto the track. Something very satisfying about it.

Listen, anyone who travels on trains or boats or sometimes planes in remote areas and doesn’t bring a plastic bag in their pocket is a rookie.

Left a two handle JCs bag full of sour runnel under the seat of a train from East London up to Jo’Burg back in the day.

Fcuker is probably still feeding the roaches given the levels of hygiene on that line!

TomasMacR

Brendan Bendar wrote: »

Listen, anyone who travels on trains or boats or sometimes planes in remote areas and doesn’t bring a plastic bag in their pocket is a rookie.

Left a two handle JCs bag full of sour runnel under the seat of a train from East London up to Jo’Burg back in the day.

Fcuker is probably still feeding the roaches given the levels of hygiene on that line!

Hang on, are we talking about ****ing into a plastic bag now? I’ve read it a couple of times and that’s my understanding, lot of lingo going about and it may be lost in translation.

EmmetSpiceland

TomasMacR wrote: »

Hang on, are we talking about ****ing into a plastic bag now? I’ve read it a couple of times and that’s my understanding, lot of lingo going about and it may be lost in translation.

Of course. It’s always a good idea to keep one in the boot of the car with a roll of paper too.

You might not always be near a nice copse or hedgerow and you’ll be forced to move the passenger seat forward, place the bag on the floor, squat over and let loose in the privacy of your own car.

Leave the windows open as you drive after you dispose of the bag.

JohnnyFlash

TomasMacR wrote: »

Hang on, are we talking about ****ing into a plastic bag now? I’ve read it a couple of times and that’s my understanding, lot of lingo going about and it may be lost in translation.

Made perfect sense to me. The lad dropped an ‘Elvis killer’ that spewed out like shaking an eel out of a welly, into a plastic bag, and lodged it under a seat as he couldn’t get to the old ‘log cabin’ quick enough. Probably dumped the shîtty crackers into the bag as well. Dirty fûcker.

Roger Hassenforder

Brendan Bendar wrote: »

Listen, anyone who travels on trains or boats or sometimes planes in remote areas and doesn’t bring a plastic bag in their pocket is a rookie.

Left a two handle JCs bag full of sour runnel under the seat of a train from East London up to Jo’Burg back in the day.

Fcuker is probably still feeding the roaches given the levels of hygiene on that line!

Ugg
I generally try and stay with 400m of an AC convenience with 3ply and a copy of The Times at all times.
One can watch the peasants open defecating from the balcony of the Rambagh with ones Steiners.
If thats ones thing.

TomasMacR

EmmetSpiceland wrote: »

Of course. It’s always a good idea to keep one in the boot of the car with a roll of paper too.

You might not always be near a nice copse or hedgerow and you’ll be forced to move the passenger seat forward, place the bag on the floor, squat over and let loose in the privacy of your own car.

Leave the windows open as you drive after you dispose of the bag.

sweet jesus, I’ve had some seriously low moments including successfully soliciting an extremely large black prostitute at about 11am on the back streets of Utrecht when I was stuck in the twilight zone of being between still drunk and extremely hungover, all I remember is that she felt the inner tube of tractor tyre and didn’t look too far off one either...this was a very low point but I have never, ever sh*t in a plastic bag and the day I do it will pale in comparison to Michelin woman.

PicardWithHair

Hotblack Desiato wrote: »

It wasn't a cheeky "number one" Paula was stopping for though.

What ? she stopped for a sh1t ?

Brendan Bendar

JohnnyFlash wrote: »

Made perfect sense to me. The lad dropped an ‘Elvis killer’ that spewed out like shaking an eel out of a welly, into a plastic bag, and lodged it under a seat as he couldn’t get to the old ‘log cabin’ quick enough. Probably dumped the shîtty crackers into the bag as well. Dirty fûcker.

Listen,John, seems like a lot of the tools on here are ’amateurs’ when it comes to ‘off grid’ deffing.

In remote areas as you are familiar with John, no serious ‘tourist’ would venture without the plastic bag, two handles, bottom lined with pebbles or sand for ‘stability.

Lookit aren’t the motorways clogged with flagons of ‘Truckers Tizer’ flagons of piss thrown out the window by truckers on automatic and needing a piss!

Trick is to drop the kex, bend the knees , hold the handles just at the hip bones.

The sand or pebbles will stabilize the bag in winds up to 20knots(Don’t try it in Clare tonight by the way)and you can evacuate at full ‘Take Off Thrust’ in confidence.

Lob her into the nearest clump of scrub and the ‘locals ‘ will make short work of it.

padd b1975

EmmetSpiceland wrote: »

Of course. It’s always a good idea to keep one in the boot of the car with a roll of paper too.

You might not always be near a nice copse or hedgerow and you’ll be forced to move the passenger seat forward, place the bag on the floor, squat over and let loose in the privacy of your own car.

Leave the windows open as you drive after you dispose of the bag.

Standard equipment in the international haulage industry Emmet.

The trick is to throw it out the passenger window buttressed with a bottle of trucker's tizer to avoid 'blowback' at motorway cruising speed.

By using this method it shifts blame for littering to a European driver in a left hand drive vehicle.

So I've heard anyway....

yermandan

TomasMacR wrote: »

Thanks for the recommendation. If there’s two places you never want to take a dump in I’d say they’re a pub or a fast food restaurant. There’s a serious concentration of both of these around the Grafton street area. If you are ever stuck around here and you get that gurgle and your arsehole starts twitching there’s a hidden gem to take of matters, 4th floor of Brown Thomas. Pristine spotless shítter, tv with the news on, long thick heavy pine doors with no gaps above or below, thick concrete walls between traps...ultimate privacy levels. Highest quality Jacks roll that glides between your cheeks. After you’ve wrecked the toilet the sink area is another joy to behold. High quality bottled soap and thick quilted individual hand towels. Leaving thoroughly satisfied you’ve a nice trip down four sets of escalators where you can get some top notch perving done, exit with no awkward eye contact with a concierge that knows you just destroyed the jacks.

I second this, and a special mention for Bewleys Café on Grafton St. Downstairs and similar luxury to that described by an earlier poster in relation to The Shelbourne Hotel

Voodoomelon

Yep, we often borrow a mates brothers van which is used by his grass cutting business, he has many on the road. You'd often open the back doors and empty out the cutting equipment to make room for whatever we needed the van for, only to met with with several Ballygowan bottles full of piss and the occasional neatly tied bag of human fudge cake. When the lads are out and about, there's not much option other than to nudge the arse into an Aldi "eco friendly" offering and release the kracken. Best 37c they ever spent.

EmmetSpiceland

yermandan wrote: »

I second this, and a special mention for Bewleys Café on Grafton St. Downstairs and similar luxury to that described by an earlier poster in relation to The Shelbourne Hotel

Just be wary of anyone with an empty “carrier” bag.

TomasMacR

Struggling to comprehend this taking a dump in a plastic bag action. There are always, always options, some corner if things are bad enough and you are desperate enough where you can deposit. I’ve done it myself including between two cars in the car park of the Slieve Russell hotel late in the evening of a wedding. There’s always options, options that won’t require a plastic bag. F*ck sake, like your keeping the thing as some kind of prize for a bit...hot bag of shįte getting chucked out car windows, mother of god...

Brendan Bendar

TomasMacR wrote: »

Struggling to comprehend this taking a dump in a plastic bag action. There are always, always options, some corner if things are bad enough and you are desperate enough where you can deposit. I’ve done it myself including between two cars in the car park of the Slieve Russell hotel late in the evening of a wedding. There’s always options, options that won’t require a plastic bag. F*ck sake, like your keeping the thing as some kind of prize for a bit...hot bag of shįte getting chucked out car windows, mother of god...

Tommo..... we are talking of severe issues in r e m o t e areas for this drill.

Like as been discussed, trains in Thailand, in SA, we are not talking about the real world, this is off grid stuff, where if you stopped the motor and exited to blow out your guts, it could be your last dump.

Central Africa, Central America, The West Indies, you keep moving, bro.

You do not stop for man or beast you keep ploughing on.

Mate of mine was taking a dump in an area between Rusape and Mutare in Zim

Just near the main road,,, the only road... middle of nowhere,,, got bitten by a serious snake in the nutbag as he hung the fcuker out, snake sniffed the heat and had a go at the dangle bag.

Survived, but only just, half the bag had to go, and the rest is like perished rubber he tells me.

So. Dont dis the plastic bag.

Roger Hassenforder

Brendan Bendar wrote: »

Tommo..... we are talking of severe issues in r e m o t e areas for this drill.

Like as been discussed, trains in Thailand, in SA, we are not talking about the real world, this is off grid stuff, where if you stopped the motor and exited to blow out your guts, it could be your last dump.

Central Africa, Central America, The West Indies, you keep moving, bro.

You do not stop for man or beast you keep ploughing on.

Mate of mine was taking a dump in an area between Rusape and Mutare in Zim

Just near the main road,,, the only road... middle of nowhere,,, got bitten by a serious snake in the nutbag as he hung the fcuker out, snake sniffed the heat and had a go at the dangle bag.

Survived, but only just, half the bag had to go, and the rest is like perished rubber he tells me.

So. Dont dis the plastic bag.

Cant see how a plastic bag on the ground with some aggregates to hold it flat would have saved his ball sack there.
Unless theres a diagram to explain?

padd b1975

TomasMacR wrote: »

Struggling to comprehend this taking a dump in a plastic bag action. There are always, always options, some corner if things are bad enough and you are desperate enough where you can deposit. I’ve done it myself including between two cars in the car park of the Slieve Russell hotel late in the evening of a wedding. There’s always options, options that won’t require a plastic bag. F*ck sake, like your keeping the thing as some kind of prize for a bit...hot bag of shįte getting chucked out car windows, mother of god...

An opened newspaper will also suffice, although this is very much diet dependent.