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The correct technical term for such an act is a crowdpleaser. A source of huge amounts of mirth. Notice the lack of toilet paper though.....
this kind of thing, if that makes no sense to some. [url=
You expect us to click that link AndyP?
This thread is crap.
Someone had to.
I've been researching this issue.
Apparently, floaters are the result of a meal high in fat.
They will not flush unless hit with something like what hit Boscastle. (thanks www).
I have put a purchasing req' in for 5 of these:
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[i]You expect us to click that link AndyP? [/i] the link is merely a demonstration of revolving seat in action, sans-log.
Surely you'd be better off with this:
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Or this
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[edit] fingers too fat. For dialling wand, mash the keyboard now.
so after you've fished the offending log out of the pan what are you going to do with it?I have put a purchasing req' in for 5 of these:
[i]so after you've fished the offending log out of the pan what are you going to do with it? [/i]
parade it around the office and see who looks guilty?
When I was at college we had a phantom logger. On a daily basis leviathans (why do we only use that word in relationship to gigantic turds) were left creating a sense of wonder. Nobody, on our landing was owning up to the production of these monsters. We initiated turd watch. Eventually we identified the culprit. It was the American girlfriend of one of us. She was very attractive and petite, and we couldn't believe her bowels could contain the amount of matter required. We started discreetly (probably not) monitoring what she ate but found nothing out of the ordinary. I think the relationship came to an end because we gave her boyfriend no end of hassle about what he must be forcing into her!
[i]leviathans (why do we only use that word in relationship to gigantic turds)[/i]
Many a young lady has referred to my cock as a leviathan. It is pretty big, but I hand-reared it from an egg with the aid of steroids.
wwaswas - Memberso after you've fished the offending log out of the pan what are you going to do with it?
parade it around the office and see who looks guilty?
Like Cinderella and the glass slipper, but..............different.
Slightly OT, but...
Just returned back from the office toilets, where the guy in the cubicle next to mine ass-spluttered the 'incorrect' noise from Family Fortunes and s****ed. What's up with the world? 😐
My monster poos (laid down very rarely) are behemoths, not leviathans. 😳
ass-spluttered the 'incorrect' noise from Family Fortunes
Beautifully put Camo. My shoulders are going with contained laughter :P.
Sadly this sort of thing is all too common. My general rule is if a beast is left, especially with no paper then off with their heads! (To be clear the head of the perpetrator and not that of the beast itself.)
Something that bothers me is that there is constantly blood on almost every toilet in my place of work. I work out-of-hours and there are only about 12 of us in most shifts and there is blood on the seats or in the bowls of just about every male and female toilet in the place - WTF!
Also to add to the collection of turd-horror stories - I once saw a snake-stool curled up in a public cafe toilet with its head poking out over the seat. It's girth was like that of a python!
[i]there is blood on the seats or in the bowls of just about every male and female toilet in the place[/i]
do your colleagues not think it odd that you prowl the building at night visiting all the toilets for both genders?
littlei - perhaps some posters about prostate cancer and haemo...piles would be useful on your notice boards?
Or maybe one of your colleagues prepares his own halal meat?
Wwaswas - Oh no, I do my prowling very surreptitiously. And even if I didn't, I'm still slightly less weird than the bloody toilet decorators I work with.
Derek_starship - the halal toilet meat hypothesis isn't bad. If it is a widespread case of piles, cancer and so on that is one statistically unusual hotspot! Never know though!
I got to the picture of the sausage and had to stop reading. I am struggling to suppress the laughter, its a good job I don't need a wee. I am however getting very funny looks.
When my 4 year old son thrutches for a poo he leans forward on the bog seat, grips the edge of the bath with one hand, the door frame with the other and grits his teeth like the first monkey in space.
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During my first year at university we had a phantom poo-er in our halls, every now and then someone would leave a floater that was almost the exact dimensions of a coke can. We never did find out who it was but suspected the posh ginger girl, this was on the (totally unfounded) basis that we all though she liked it 'up the davis' from well endowed gentlemen.
Thrutches - that's a good word Harry.
I used to do something similar when young right up until my parents commented on the amount of noise I was making (straining). They were decorating the hall outside the toilet and we had a curtain up for a door so I guess it was quite loud. Ever since then I've had a problem 'going' when there's someone else in the vicinity.
35 years later and I still have to concentrate when using the loo at work, and I shout at the missus if she tries to talk to me while going at home. Oddly though I can happily converse with my 2 year old when he lets himself in.
Not sure what point I'm trying to make, and thank god for the anonymity of the internet, other than be kind to your son as you never know what lasting damage you might do! I would also add that I'm quite normal other than that.
Someone coiled one out on the in-use dancefloor of the Golden Flamingo in Milton Keynes one night.
[i]Someone coiled one out on the in-use dancefloor[/i]
You want to produce something fairly firm under those circumstances - capable of finding it's own way down a trouser leg and to freedom without sticking.
Back while in Uni a mate of mine forgot about a snickers bar he'd had in his pocket all night. Since it was quite molten he wouldn't eat it and instead decided to massage it while still in the wrapper.
After a few minutes he pushed it out onto the middle of the tiled floor in the halls' gents.
I dread to think of what the cleaners thought.
Oh, just remembered, I did once poo down a chimney at a party. Had to get a mate to fetch toilet paper as I couldn't climb down with my troosers round my ankles. No idea on size though as it was the neighbours chimney, but I'd be surprised if it was larger than normal.
[i]You want to produce something fairly firm under those circumstances - capable of finding it's own way down a trouser leg and to freedom without sticking. [/i]
Not if you go prepared in a Great Escape stylee.
There has been a few "dirty protests" at my work.
Highlights were one left in the sink, one left on the floor and various deliberate smearings on the cubicle walls.
They have been spread (no pun intented) over a period of several years so one can only presume its the same individual who has never been caught. I'd be really worried if it turned out to be more than one person.
I work in a large office for a multinational IT company!
tonyd - I am almost imploding here trying not to laugh out loud at your chimney poo tale.
There's a chap who works in our manufacturing area (shop floor) who often lays a cable in his bog roll clad hand. He the proceeds to pass it under the gaps, left and right to show the "neighbours." It then goes back in the pan.
Perhaps he's an ex-coarse angler who misses parading his catch.
Talking about dirty protests, Mrs Nick used to work for a large food manufacturing co, supplying big supermarkets, these supermarkets audit the factories to make sure they are clean etc (normally for the purpose of pointing out petty things which they then use to hammer the supplier down on price....), the co being audited normally sends a scout 5 mins ahead of main party to check all is ok.
Somehow between the scout and main party checking the toilets some committed individual had smeared **** off <supermarketname> on the wall.
Oh how they laughed.
[i]There's a chap who works in our manufacturing area (shop floor) who often lays a cable in his bog roll clad hand. He the proceeds to pass it under the gaps, left and right to show the "neighbours." It then goes back in the pan.[/i]
would be SO much better with a bare hand. Half-hearted at best.
T
here's a chap who works in our manufacturing area (shop floor) who often lays a cable in his bog roll clad hand. He the proceeds to pass it under the gaps, left and right to show the "neighbours." It then goes back in the pan
Think I have it.
The chap in question is a quality inspector. He obviously prefers to oursource turd inspections as to inspect his own would be a busman's holiday.
Itried again to read this at work but just couldn't manage it. I have just been sitting here laughing out loud with Mrs A telling me to not be so silly.
We've got a couple of different Phantoms at work at the minute, there's one who I'm almost certain must be eating polystyrene as the buoyancy of his deposits is incredible, I attempted 3 flushes when happening upon one the other day, presumably he had tried at least one flush so 4 flushes and it was still bobbing, I threw in the towel (not literally) and opted for Trap #2
the other "phantom" appears to have some sort of disorder or strange diet whereby a single super dense log is produced (it looks like every 48 - 82 Hrs) which is so resistant to the initial flush that it's just left to fester turning the water the same shade of turgid Dark, Dark brown - looks horrific, one glance and I'm off to seek another trap, I'm reasonably sure that light actually has trouble escaping these...
So my eyes are peeled for 2 other employees - one living on packaging materials and helium infused soft drinks, the other dining on Stout, Tar and Evil - As yet I have no prime candidate...
my 15 year old sprog blocks toilets with prize marrow sized dumps with regularity... we have had to call for help in hotels.
"The hunt for brown october"...
There should be a permanant poo based thread on every internet forum, a "sticky" seems so appropriate. Ivespent the lasr 20mins s****ing as i read through this
2 years ago I had the misfortune of sharing a house with a phantom pooer. I was the only one off the suspect list as the first criminal act was laid whilst I was away for a week. It was still there winking at everyone upon my return.
Nothing would get rid of it, we threw all sorts of chemicals down the loo to try and weaken its solidity but to no avail, instead it would slowly erode with each flush.
I questioned my four housemates and all denied it was them, two were ruled out as they only used the downstairs toilet, leaving 'Miss. A' and 'Mr. B' in the equation.
In the meantime our 'sixth' housemate was christened Pierre the Poo and we charged for photos to be taken with him. He would leave every now and again, often for a short trip around the u-bend to creep back up whilst we celebrated his departure.
Eventually it was decided that Miss. A's poor diet of boiled sausages and potato, or rice and cheese, or rice, chicken and cheese, probably had something to do with it....
On an aside my brother shows pictures of his impressive poos around the dinner table...
Last year when I worked at an academy in London I found myself caught short in between theory lessons. I popped into the staff toilets to lay cable with the hope that my 'special (pl)ops mission' would be done and dusted with speed and stealth. I open the second cubicle to be confronted with what can only be described as a 'dead otter'; a complete turd, streamlined and smooth, that was both past the U-bend and coming out of the top of the toilet itself. I have never seen anything like it in my life, and after looking for a body in the close vicinity I reported it to the caretaker, who promptly dealt with it with a spade and some litter picking tongs....
Frightening that someone could survive a total faecal egression of over 2ft long and not need hospitalisation...
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In the middle of the Southern Ocean on a slightly bare essentials expedition'yacht' we had a questionable deposit floating up and down the deck for approx 3 days. It clung on to the lee deck through typical Southern Ocean conditions. It would flow up to the bows then get swept back towards the cockpit.
The heads (toilet) on the yacht was never used in the 4 month trip as a) it didn't work and b) you couldn't actually get to it. So all toilet related activity was performed over the side. I got called a wuss on one watch because I had a case of the squits and resorted to using a bucket in the cockpit. When performing over the side timing was critical and we almost lost one chap as the fittings on the yacht were circumspect and he was leaning on the handrail when it gave way....
H3. CONSTIPATION AND INCONTINENCE
H3a. Functional Constipation
Diagnostic criteria* Must include two or more of the following in a child with a
developmental age of at least 4 years with insuf?cient criteria
for diagnosis of IBS:
?. Two or fewer defecations in the toilet per week
?. At least one episode of fecal incontinence per week
?. History of retentive posturing or excessive volitional stool retention
?. History of painful or hard bowel movements
?. Presence of a large fecal mass in the rectum
[u]?. History of large diameter stools which may obstruct the toilet [/u]
* Criteria ful?lled at least once per week for at least ? months prior to diagnosi
In tears of laughter reading Bullheart's post !! 😆
EDIT: Splat, go away with your scientific reasoning, this thread is not the place for it... 😉 😆
😆 just makes me laugh that a group of top drs have come up with a diagnostic criteria which includes toilet blockage. I will grow up one day.
This thread has brought back a memory of a summers evening in The Church Inn (Prestwich) in 1989. A few of us were sat in the beer garden with a cold beverage when Sean the glass collector (think CAMRA Timelord with Jack Duckworth glasses and a penchant for T shirts with pictures of aeroplane on them) came out in a bit of a state. “Who the bloody hell has done that?” he shouted.
Out of curiosity we went to have a look, and there in trap 1 (of 1) was a turd that resembled a CO2 fire extinguisher in both colour and size, and by all accounts density but I’ll get to that later.
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After a couple of hours of Sean interrogating the entire clientele of the pub in a manner that earned him the nickname Turdfinder General and several dozen attempted flushes he gave up and had to take matters into his own hands. He disappeared into one of the outbuildings and returned wearing a set of rubber gloves that went up to his shoulders. He then went off to club the seal.
He was gone for ages.
When he returned he announced that he had lifted it out and broken it into 3 so that he could flush it away in instalments.
The Stone Roses, a girl named Karen and Sean’s battle with The Monster Turd are my abiding memories of that summer. Happy days.