http://www.mumsnet.com/Talk/am_i_being_unreasonable/2746206-To-be-so-bloody-angry-with-OH

LOL.

Cream carpet in rented house.

😆

Haha was a comon ocourance in military housing some times it seemed like every saturday morning somone was being chucked out for shiting the bed.

Good to hear the women being so down on the guy…
Though having a few friends working in hospitality they always reckon the ladies bogs are the worst in any kind of pub.

😆

Like a few posters have commented in the thread, I must have lead a sheltered life as I’ve never shat myself when drunk and can’t think of knowing anyone who has. Who has (and who would admit to it)?

My now ex-wife caught me after a night out, stood with the wardrobe door open, peeing on her wedding dress (which was in a box in the bottom of the wardrobe)

how did it happen though? either the shite was so bad that it exploded out his undercrackers and trosuers OR he was in a state of undress on the stairs!

It would have been more considerate to have taken himself to a quiet corner of a room or nip behind the sofa like a cat.

My life has clearly been unsheltered,as this type of story isn’t that uncommon. Whilst I have never had a shite related alcohol event, I have had the odd random damp 😳 I have had to lob my crackers in the bin in Hong Kong airport due to eating what I can only describe as rotten bird wing in dirty water with a fish gut dumpling…..

The replies on that thread are quite enlightening.

Spend the day with him? I can’t imagine letting him anywhere near me ever again.

That would literally turn me off him for the rest of my life.

Do people really have relationships where a drunken poo incident is that big a deal? I mean it’s not very nice, but that seems a bit of an overreaction…

It’s mumsnet they have overreaction banned on their swear filter. Reading some of the posts would probably send me out to get pissed enough to shit on the stairs.

I shared a hotel room once with a guy who was so pissed he woke me up to the sound of him pissing in the middle of the floor and he then squatted over and shat on the same spot before I could see what he was up to. after that, he woke up sufficiently to throw up everywhere – red wine. That was all a bit of a mess.

Sounds like…

[video]http://youtu.be/DvHOXiP9O_Y[/video]

Years back living in 5x6m studio apartment block in Seoul we were woken up by a man trying to get into the aparmtent, banging on all the doors, at around 2am.

He tried all the doors a few times and was making a lot of noise, I got pissed off, went out to see him about to squat and shit on the stairs.

Grabbed the **** by the scruff of the neck, pulled him down the stairs, and chucked him out on the street. He was half being angry and half apologising, went back to bed.

In the morning, he must have returned, shat in the entrance way stairwell, where he must have slipped into his own crap, several times, as there were shitty hand prints over the floor, what was clearly someone having sat on their own crap falling over in a big smear, shitty foot prints, and hand prints on the door.

Nothing going upstairs, so I assume he was looking for a toilet. It was -25 so fairly chilly

Landlord was very apologetic.

You need to make the consequences of sh**ting all over the house worse than not. I didn’t hear you say what you’re going do to achieve this?

This is a bit….off. It’s blatant “how are you going to punish him”. He’s not a misbehaving employee!

Mumsnet is a vile place.

They swear a lot don’t they.

Could have been worse. Better than grand slamming the bed.

A mate of mine pissed into a hedge on the way back from the pub.

Only problem was he was dreaming. He was home, in bed, and the hedge was his girlfriend.

A mate of mine pissed into a hedge on the way back from the pub.

Only problem was he was dreaming. He was home, in bed, and the hedge was his girlfriend.

Did this but I was playing football. – girlfriend wasn’t happy when she calmed down 🙁

They swear a lot don’t they.

Yep worse than us and they do even seem to live in a parallel universe.

They’re fond of a stern note!

Mumsnet is a vile place.

They do seem to be the biggest bunch of self righteous, sanctimonious, hypocritical wazzocks on the net.

Apart from this place, of course 😀

I’ve been royally hammered quite a few times in my youth. I once got run over by a car reversing out of a drive because I had to make a mad dash across the gap in order to grab the wall. Literally couldn’t walk without support. Can’t imagine ever being that wrecked that I could actually shat myself or wee on somebody. That’s some other level drinking right there. Disgusted and strangely impressed in equal measures.

Only met one person that shat themselves when pissed. But he was so drunk he was unconcious and if we hadn’t also been in a state ourselves would have probably delivered him to hospital as he was unresponsive.

They do seem to like notes don’t they. If I get left a note and don’t like the content I just pretend I didn’t see it. And if I’d befouled myself in the house I would just assume the mindset that my arse was on black ops so I could deny all knowledge. There’d be no corroboration anyway so at worst the verdict would be ‘not proven’, but more likely I would submit that there was no case to answer at the end of the prosecution case.

A mate of mine shared a house with a few other rugby players at uni.

Someone shat in the bath one night. The next morning nobody owned up so they concluded anyone pissed enough to shit in the bath wouldn’t have wiped their arse.

A bottom inspection was carried out and the culprit identified.

Thinking about it a M8s divorce paperwork stated unreasonable behaviour just because he shat in the sink one occasion 🙂

Only done it in the bed once(polish vodka) but the missus didn’t leave me a note as she was there.

Returning home from part 1 of my stag weekend ( I was bundled into a taxi after pebbledashing a seating area in the local nightclub ). According to my fiancé at the time, I precededed to undo my trousers , lift the bottom of the quilt up and then empty the contents of my bladder over her feet.
In the morning , she took me on a tour of the house pointing out the piles of vomit that I had produced during the night.
Can’t remember a single thing. After taking stock that anything could have happened to me, i set a limit of 3 pints and have stuck to that to this day . That was 11 1/2 years ago and we are still married

After a few weekend long benders I’ve been incapable of almost any normal function but never shat on my stairs.
I do live in a bungalow though. 😛

At least he used the stairs. A lesser man than him would have shat on the escalator.

Try not to dwell on that.

Friend of mine was a call centre manager for a large UK bank. They once ‘misplaced’ a large amount of cash during a transfer. The Guy who’s money it was tried to claim compensation to replace the living room carpet as, apparently, the shock of the news was too much for his wife who shat herself over it when told of the missing money!

I s*** you not. They didn’t pay.

That’s great, I like it how she thinks it’s punishment for her to go and see her family without him and leave him in bed.

Yes, if anything that’s going to encourage him to do it again.

sensibly staying at a mates house

Yeah that’s like not going to pour petrol on the bonfire…. Mrs DOD would do a [rude word] if I used that as an excuse not to come home 🙁

I know a bloke who used to piss himself when he was hammered. Said he liked the warmth!

Mrs DOD would do a …..

Is this on a strictly invitation only basis? Is there a mailing list we can join? 😆

Many moons ago, about 263 by my calcs, my dad took me on a birthday trip to Hong Kong (he was the pilot). Fairly good evening rubbing myself against only barely-protesting stewardesses when I started blubbing about how much I missed my girlfriend. I was 16 but my father was humiliated by my piss poor drinking performance…. Step forth my younger brother…. On his trip to Hong Kong a couple of years later he went from dancefloor hero, to snogging a whore at the bar, to eventually collapsing on the hotel room floor. On that said floor he did lay a couple of cheeky logs. Upon awaking he thought they were the remnants of a kebab and had a little nibble before realising the error of his ways. We don’t see our dad any more and I think we’re all better off for it.

So, no, I haven’t crapped myself drinking, that I can remember, but I had a good many years pissing myself. Including in bed with girls. Twice in one night with one, and she seemed to believe the ‘I spilt my pint of water’ both times!
Most memorable, and I use the term loosely as I don’t remember anything at all, was being woken up at university by fierce hammering on my door. It transpired that I had sleepwalked bollock naked upstairs with my hands clasped in front of me like a monk. I had sought out the only room with foreigners in it, a bunch of Italians getting stoned, knocked on the door and, as they opened it, pissed all over them whilst still holding my hands in the prayer position. They slammed the door until the tinkling [jet hose] noise stopped and opened it to find I’d disappeared and gone back to bed. Quite a bit of mopping to do the next day.
There are more but I’ll leave you with that for now.

I reckon he’s been out with tyson fury.

All the acronyms on mumsnet confuse me.

A long time ago:

Came home very late and very drunk. Took off trousers and fell straight into bed.

Woke up in the early hours: “Oh my God I need a s**t right now”. Stumble to bedroom door. Fall over. Get up. Open bedroom door. Flatmate standing there in the hallway with friends*

*I honestly, honestly don’t know to this day whether I hallucinated that bit

I was naked from the waist down. I may have had an erection. I couldn’t run from the landing to the bog, naked from the waist down, possibly with an erection, past my flatmate and his friends (who may or may not have been real) just to have a s**t.

And anyway, it was too late now. This s**t was coming. I wasn’t going to make it to La Guardia. I was going in the Hudson.

I closed my bedroom door again, took the lid off my wicker washing basket, and unloaded onto my dirty washing. Wiped my arse on an Issey Miyake T shirt (surprisingly effective), replaced the lid, fell on bed, went back to sleep.

I woke up the next morning, wondering why my room smelled bad, before tracing the smell back to the washing basket. Threw out Issey Miyake t-shirt. Threw everything else in the wash.

Me: “Did you have people over, late last night?”

Flatmate: “No, no-one. Why?”

Me: “Oh, nothing.”