Strange stools

[largehat]

What is the most peculiar poo you have ever had?

I was in Florida in 2010 and I had some rainbow sherbet flavoured ice cream. It looked an awful lot like this:



And I had bright green poo for 48 hours. Which was fine, and a real talking point around the villa, but I was worried until I made the link between the ice cream and my luminescent bowel produce. I thought I was falling seriously ill in America and had concerns about a ruined holiday and crazy medical bills.

So I am much more careful what I eat in America now. They don't have the same food standards when it comes to colouring.

Tell everyone about your craziest crap.

[H. Pedersen]

Jesus Christ . . .

[largehat]

This is a thread about the mechanics of the human body, not a roll call for the New Testament.

[Abdul-Salam Bilal]

Jesus Christ . . .

No way, I had a shíte once that looked like the Virgin Mary.  It was then I realised Christianity is a load of shíte.

[Didledee]

[Paul Comstive]

At my first office Christmas do I was 17 years old so clearly thought I was the 'big man' and could handle my drink.  My colleagues clearly knew that I'd not back down from drinking challenges...

So, as you'd expect, it didn't end well.

I was found at approx 10pm in the toilets.  My feet were wedged under the door so someone had to climb over to move me so they could drag me out. The toilet seat was over my head like a life-jacket, there was sick everywhere ... and I'd shat my pants.

The brave souls then carried me up to my room and dumped me on my bed and were even thoughtful enough to put a sheet over me.

When I eventually woke the following morning it was like the scene where Spud wakes up in Trainspotting.  My mate who'd been sharing with me had slept in the bath because the smell in the bedroom was so bad.

I flushed my undies down the toilet, had a shower with my clothes in there too so I could wash all the shíte and puke of them and went down for breakfast.

Apparently I still smelt of shíte and sick and one of the secretaries had to leave the table due to the smell coming from me.

Upon checking out I thought it only polite to tell the receptionist I'd made "a bit of a mess" in my room.  She nodded in pity and said, "It's okay, it happens a lot.", presumably expecting just to find a small puddle of vomit.  I still feel guilty for what those poor minimum wage cleaners will have had to deal with.

[largehat]

Your story reminds me of my 30th birthday celebrations, Paul.
 
I invited a few people to meet me in the beer garden behind the Old Three Crowns. I was surprised  when 20 odd people turned up, and a quiet few drinks turned into a major bender on Bradshawgate.

Anyway, after about 10 pints, we all ended up in Macauleys. They had a dentist's chair set up. Of course, everyone wanted me to go in it as it was my birthday, and I refused. Then, one of the girls in the group said "if you go in it I'll give you a birthday snog". Deciding I wanted a birthday snog, I went along with it. I was in this chair for about 25 seconds, having vodka and peach schnapps being poured into my mouth continuously.

About half an hour later we went in Reflex (it was a midweek night). The place was almost completely empty. That's when all the sprits kicked in. The Baywatch music came on (the "I'll be ready" one). I ended up alone on the dance floor, on my back, cycling my legs in the air, singing "I'll be ready".

Anyway it was clearly time to go home for me. I remember getting in a black cab with 2 of my mates. The cab moved about 10 yards, and I knew I was going to spew before I could get the driver to pull over, so I lifted my shirt up and used it as a basin to catch it.

Then when we got back to where I live, my mate invited me to have a birthday spliff with him. We got back to mine, and I remember saying to him I was too wasted to have a spliff. This was about 1am.

The next thing I remember was this:

I woke up at 4.30am, sat on the toilet, with my jeans around my ankles, and there was shíte all over the toilet seat, my legs and my jeans. I must have gone for a dump, not pulled my jeans down, then woke up, pulled them down, then gone back to sleep again. My head was pounding like it was being smashed with a big rock. I had to rinse my jeans off,  put everything in the washer, pick up all the solid matter using toilet roll, bleach the toilet and bathroom floor, take a shower, then bleach the bath, drink about 4 pints of water, then go to bed for about an hour before getting up for work at 7am, where I just sat for the day, shellshocked and useless.

Turning 30 was very sobering.

[Paul Comstive]

hahaha - that's brilliant mate.  I've just spat some brew out.

I've stopped sharing my story with people who I don't really know too well nowadays (obviously 'anonymous' forums don't count as you don't know me anyway). 

It just seems that when you tell folk the first half of the story, and this must apply to you with your tale, the eager listeners are all ears.  They nod appreciatively, chuckling away as you explain about things getting a bit hazy and you being led to the toilet.  As soon as you mention being sick they seem to pull a pained expression and back off a little bit ... but as soon as you tell them you shat yourself it's as if a line has been crossed.   Suddenly your story is no longer funny to them. You can put your life on someone then fake coughing and saying, "... Anyway..."

[largehat]

I know some people are really put off by discussion of the toilet and poo.

I have a very wise GP, I used the phrase "the mechanics of the human body" above, because that's just what it is. Everyone does number twos. There's nothing to be ashamed of in talking about them, besides anything else, what goes on with them can be a good indicator of your health in various ways.

I also expect most people - if not everyone - has been caught short at some time in their life (beyond being a toddler) and shat themselves too. I can understand why it's not a nice topic to talk about if you're eating or cooking and so on, but to me it's one of those things that's only a taboo in people's minds. It's a rational thing to talk about. If there's a funny story attached, tell it - like me eating that ice cream or you and I losing control of our functions due to extreme alcohol intake.

I have a friend of a friend who tells wonderful stories about things like taking LSD and visiting whorehouses and having a dildo shoved in his mouth, but he pulls his face when you mention anything to do with the toilet.

[Squidgy]

www.ratemypoo.com is the future.