Getting caught short

Lot of funny stories on here.

Although it reminded me of a couple of horrendous years i had a while back.

I was working at Royal Mail as a delivery postman, i had just signed for a duty for the next 2 years { in the delivery office i worked at you signed up for a particular duty// early's .. Days night's deliverys etc }

So a couple of months into the duty i started getting stomach cramps etc went to the doctor and was eventually diagnosed with IBS

Being a delivery guy this was hell for me. i was in and out of the toilet 8 - 10 times before going out on delivery.

I was in a town centre delivery so we had a branch office in the town centre where we stored out gear.

It was a running joke amongst the other guys in the town centre team i was on.

As i would often be seen by them trying to sprint down the main high street back to the branch office with my butt cheeks clenched. :D

I always made it, one time splitting my trousers from back belt to zip in my rush to get them off one time.

Eventually the post office got sick of me taking days off because of it and they gave me ill health retirement rather than sack me {only good thing i got to say about the union is they thought my case on this}

Funny thing is since i left the post office the IBS has gotten better.
 
Rincewindle said:
Lot of funny stories on here.

Although it reminded me of a couple of horrendous years i had a while back.

I was working at Royal Mail as a delivery postman, i had just signed for a duty for the next 2 years { in the delivery office i worked at you signed up for a particular duty// early's .. Days night's deliverys etc }

So a couple of months into the duty i started getting stomach cramps etc went to the doctor and was eventually diagnosed with IBS

Being a delivery guy this was hell for me. i was in and out of the toilet 8 - 10 times before going out on delivery.

I was in a town centre delivery so we had a branch office in the town centre where we stored out gear.

It was a running joke amongst the other guys in the town centre team i was on.

As i would often be seen by them trying to sprint down the main high street back to the branch office with my butt cheeks clenched. :D

I always made it, one time splitting my trousers from back belt to zip in my rush to get them off one time.

Eventually the post office got sick of me taking days off because of it and they gave me ill health retirement rather than sack me {only good thing i got to say about the union is they thought my case on this}

Funny thing is since i left the post office the IBS has gotten better.
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I know IBS isn’t funny and I really do sympathise with you and anyone else who has suffered, but I couldn’t help laughing out loud at the thought of you ripping your trousers open in a desperate panic.

Sorry!
 
Rroff said:
In Clarkson's case his son projectile vomited all over the back of their rental and he folded down the rear seats so it wasn't obvious and legged it.

I've heard a few variants of that story though some probably more true than others.
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Jeremy Clarkson named his son "projectile" ? :confused:
 
dirtychinchilla said:
That literally makes no sense. If his name was projectile, there should have been a comma before and after his name.
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And the 'p' capitalised :p

Edit: Living in the US for 10+ years has warped my mind, as I haven't heard "projectile vomit" used by anyone here. That, and sleep deprivation caused a major brain fart with that post. Soz.
 
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I had to wander off into a wooded area when we were walking around Pripyat on our trip to Chernobyl, I'd been holding it in all morning on a bumpy bus and had to wait ages for an opportunity to go off on my own. It was a rather large sized log as I'd been clogged up for days, felt much lighter for it though! The only worry was that earlier in the week the guides had said to remain together as there was a nasty pack of wild dogs roaming around, don't think I would have looked too appetizing if they'd stumbled across me though :D

I was also dying for a slash another day when we were exploring an old unfinished reactor building. I ended up going in the pitch black over the edge of a walkway into a deep void, it was rather satisfying :)
 
Parky said:
I was also dying for a slash another day when we were exploring an old unfinished reactor building. I ended up going in the pitch black over the edge of a walkway into a deep void, it was rather satisfying :)
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Elsewhere in the news...

Unexplained water leakage at the Chernobyl site triggers unexpected prompt critical nuclear reaction in leaked reactor fuel!
 
Brizzles said:
Must confess to a number 1 accident.

Early morning flying out of Bristol airport on holiday with the missus.

Being the idiot i am, the idea of Stella at 6am is too good to resist.

Logic and reason sorted in my mind , all is fine - the logic being don't get drunk - the reason being - you wont be allowed to fly.

The thing i didn't take into account is i either don't have much of a bladder , or it just hates me.

Generally the first two pints just go straight though me, like flushing out a rusty barrel - straight in > straight out = no problems.

So after the initial flush out i knew i could pace myself for the next couple.

Come 8am and the flight is delayed for 30 minutes, most normal people would just sit back and chill, my bladder took that as a personal challenge ( by which time my head was goading it on ).

Another rushed pint and i was ready, so 5 Stellas in total with an airport cooked breakfast inside me, i was looking forward to a relaxed flight.

Another thing i hadn't taken into account was the sudden drop in temperature when you leave departure lounge and walk to the plane, it was ****ing freezing outside.

All of a sudden my bladder decided that it would punish me.

Got to our seats, remember the missus is with me, we put our baggage into the overheads etc

Still cold i thought i'd take a precautionry pre flight pee just in case, no show from Mr bladder.

Reassured by this, i started to relax in the knowledge that all was safe.

It must have been the ping sound over the intercom that really upset Mr Bladder, he clearly didn't want to listen to the flight crew safety anouncements or have a tight seatbelt put over him, but all hell broke loose.

I'd gone from semi-relaxed and looking forward to a kip to full bladder bursting in 2 seconds.

As much as i willed the cabin crew to skip bits, it didn't happen. Knowing full well that we had started moving anyway and you couldn't use the toilets for atleast another 5 minutes, my fate was set.

That moment when you give up the fight and just submit is reserved to people who have been there, mixed emotions covers it.

Looking back it is quite an achievement i managed to fully pee myself on a Thompson jet, sat right next to my missus and no-one noticed anything.

The covert usage of a jumper over the legs, combined with dark jeans - and i'd pulled it off.

I left my jeans in Turkey and had a nice holiday.

TLDR: It happens
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You're the Phantom wee'er on my flight from Cardif to Bodrum!!!!!

The flight went tech after that, as the liquid on the floor had to be identified!!
 
I number two'd in the middle of a bar once.

This particular day I had already had a good couple of clear outs, but was also very very gassy.

Confident in the fact there should be no more poop left in my body to remove, I was happily forcing the gas out to get the desired sound effects.

Off out we go, we hit a few bars, drinks are flowing. I continue to sneakily squeeze any signs of fart out, tactically timed to us moving on or moving to another side of the bar.

Anyhow, this next one was to end in disaster. I could tell by the sheer temperature that it was going to stink. However, what I could not tell, was that it was also going to be solid.

The second it shot out my bottom, I knew I had a steaming atomic log in my pants and I needed to act sharpish.

I moved as quickly as possible to the toilets, trying not to disturb the fireball that was engulfing my pants.

I got to the men's but they were all in use, I waited patiently but could begin to smell it around me, and was pretty sure soon enough, people were going to realise it was me.

To my relief, a cubicle door opened and I jumped in. The floor was absolutely covered in urine, but I had to get my boxers off, containing the log and ditch them in the small bin to the side of the loo.

Now, I'm hoping someone with some knowledge of fire detectors can confirm if this next bit is even possible.

I'd managed to get my bottom half undressed, without covering my jeans in **** but then, the bloody fire alarm went off....

Now this thing in my pants stunk, and I mean it stunk. I am fully convinced it was my turd that had set this alarm off.

Everyone was vacating the toilets to make an exit, I was still sat on the loo sorting myself out.

Next thing, the doormen are knocking on the cubicle door, asking me to leave. I just had to tell them I can't, I'm in the middle of a ****.

I finished sorting myself out, opened the cubicle door, and I will never forget the look on the doorman's face, the cubicle absolutely stunk, and it was my soiled pants and log in the bin that were at fault.

I escaped the toilet area, rounded my friends up and we moved on.

To this day, I still enjoy a good old forced fart, but am always extra wary of the potential outcome. There's no way I would get off as lightly as I did that day again.
 
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Shikkaka said:
I number two'd in the middle of a bar once.

This particular day I had already had a good couple of clear outs, but was also very very gassy.

Confident in the fact there should be no more poop left in my body to remove, I was happily forcing the gas out to get the desired sound effects.

Off out we go, we hit a few bars, drinks are flowing. I continue to sneakily squeeze any signs of fart out, tactically timed to us moving on or moving to another side of the bar.

Anyhow, this next one was to end in disaster. I could tell by the sheer temperature that it was going to stink. However, what I could not tell, was that it was also going to be solid.

The second it shot out my bottom, I knew I had a steaming atomic log in my pants and I needed to act sharpish.

I moved as quickly as possible to the toilets, trying not to disturb the fireball that was engulfing my pants.

I got to the men's but they were all in use, I waited patiently but could begin to smell it around me, and was pretty sure soon enough, people were going to realise it was me.

To my relief, a cubicle door opened and I jumped in. The floor was absolutely covered in urine, but I had to get my boxers off, containing the log and ditch them in the small bin to the side of the loo.

Now, I'm hoping someone with some knowledge of fire detectors can confirm this next bit for me

I'd managed to get my bottom half undressed, without covering my jeans in **** but then, the bloody fire alarm went off....

Now this thing in my pants stunk, and I mean it stunk. I am fully convinced it was my turd that had set this alarm off.

Everyone was vacating the toilets to make an exit, I was still sat on the loo sorting myself out.

Next thing, the doormen are knocking on the cubicle door, asking me to leave. I just had to tell them I can't, I'm in the middle of a ****.

I finished sorting myself out, opened the cubicle door, and I will never forget the look on the doorman's face, the cubicle absolutely stunk, and it was my soiled pants and log in the bin that were at fault.

I escaped the toilet area, rounded my friends up and we moved on.

To this day, I still enjoy a good old forced fart, but am always extra wary of the potential outcome. There's no way I would get off as lightly as I did that day.
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Brilliant!

Did you confess to your mates?
 
As I've got older, I'm regularly getting caught short. Last year, I was on a football coach to Wembely when I had to ask the coach driver to pull over about 45 minutes out but due to modern H&S he couldn't. I ended up running off spraying the car park everywhere as I got off.

I'm expert at reef knots now.
 
Admiral Huddy said:
As I've got older, I'm regularly getting caught short. Last year, I was on a football coach to Wembely when I had to ask the coach driver to pull over about 45 minutes out but due to modern H&S he couldn't. I ended up running off spraying the car park everywhere as I got off.

I'm expert at reef knots now.
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What's "modern H&S"?

Surely a coach can pull over somewhere for a few minutes? I reckon you just had a vindictive driver!
 
Orionaut said:
Elsewhere in the news...

Unexplained water leakage at the Chernobyl site triggers unexpected prompt critical nuclear reaction in leaked reactor fuel!
Click to expand...
Strange, brown, snake-like creature rumoured to be attacking people in Chernobyl. Some experts believe something has mutated due to exposure to radiation.
 
Used to go running in the Summer before work when training for half marathon, 5AMish. Almost inevitably on the final mile my bowels would begin plans to evacuate. Running at that time just seemed to get things moving. Was strange as I never would need to go before I got to work otherwise. I began calling it the 'Brown mile'.
 
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