My 2p is that it’s not a submarine, it’s a floater.

These will survive any number of repeated attempts to get rid of them and cheekily pop to the surface again just as you thought they’d gone.

One of the senior managers at a previous company I worked in resorted to trying a bucket of water on one that ‘someone’ had left behind. He was leaving the cubicle with the bucket, defeated, just as the MD of one of our biggest customers walked into the loo and headed for the same cubicle.

He didn’t feel able to offer much of an explanation as to why he was leaving the toilets with a big bucket hand leaving a large turd floating in the pan but managed to blush everytime he met this MD for ever after.

d_s’s list of places to visit:

Poland

Mrs. S. used to work at a college where a security guard was found with a collection of turds in his locker.

He disconnected the “chain” in the ladies loos and then went back later to claim his prize(s). WTF?

My one and only visit to Glastonbury was in the early 90s. Managed to defer any bowel evacuation to the Sunday afternoon by which time the chemical toilet cubicle I chose had an almost perfectly conical mound of cider-driven poo protruding a good 12inches above the rim, to which someone had added the crowning glory of – I kid you not – half a walnut.

Nervous pooer Dez?

Nope, just regular. Same time every morning 😛

Actually, to continue a fairly vile theme, whilst I worked at the same place as biro-man; we had a meeting in Frankfurt. They had those bog seats which rotate after flushing, passing through a little disinfection thingummy at the back of the unit. Said colleague, in his cups, thought it would be humorous to drop a Richard on the seat, then flush, and watch it get smeared into a fine layer over the entire seat.
Was he biro-man? Or just a bit manky when leathered. Were there two faecal deviants within same blue-chip Pharma department? Distressing thought. Hmmm..

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. mmmm…smeary

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:

You expect us to click that link AndyP? the link is merely a demonstration of revolving seat in action, sans-log.

Surely you’d be better off with this:

Or this

[edit] fingers too fat. For dialling wand, mash the keyboard now.

I have put a purchasing req’ in for 5 of these:

so after you’ve fished the offending log out of the pan what are you going to do with it?

so 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?

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!

leviathans (why do we only use that word in relationship to gigantic turds)
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 – Member

so 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 sniggered. 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!

there is blood on the seats or in the bowls of just about every male and female toilet in the place

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.

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.

Someone coiled one out on the in-use dancefloor

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.

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.
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.

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.

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.