Getting caught short

Oh Lord, like the OP, I share a childish love of toilet humour and this is comedy gold.

I can't honestly say I've ever been caught short whilst out and about. My bowels are - thankfully - quite predictable and regular, and provided I take a dump fairly shortly after getting out of bed in the morning, don't give me any trouble. However, that regularity has led to some near-misses at home. Many's the time I'd go downstairs, put the kettle on, make a brew for myself and the missus and be bloody-nigh 'touching cloth' by the time I got back upstairs, resulting in a very awkward waddle across the landing to the bathroom. Wasn't a regular occurrence by any means, but it was almost as if the act of switching the kettle on loosened my bowels. Funnily enough, it hasn't happened at all since the missus and I separated and I've been living in my own gaff.

A couple of people I work with have had 'accidents' though. One of the girls where I'm currently working regaled us one morning of being stuck in non-moving traffic on the M11, getting the urge for a pee and having no option but to relieve herself into an empty biscuit tin she happened to have in the car.

My ex-boss, a man with some of the most repulsive personal habits a human being could possess, was once on holiday in Egypt and crapped himself whilst out and about, most likely as a result of typical holiday gluttony. Apparently to this day, there's a pair of his ****** pants buried somewhere in the desert ... ready for some poor archaeologist to find in hundreds of years' time.
Distracted said:
All wetsuits need burning after rental. Ask anyone who has ever had to clean one at the end of the day, everyone pees in them, that is if you are lucky and it's just pee.
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I've had many surfing holidays in Cornwall and owned my wetsuit, rather than hiring. I can confirm that I have pee'd in mine on many an occasion!
 
RoboCod said:
I filled my britches in a club, on the dance floor once.

I'd had bad guts for a day or two and thought it had all cleared up when my then girlfriend and me went out for a meal with friends. I'd glugged a bottle of red wine and shortly later we were all in a club shaking our thang on the dance floor. It came without warning and I followed through. My underwear seemed able to cup and collect what was really just liquid, a disgusting puddle of a stinking diarrhea. You know how that **** smells, you can taste the smell. I didn't want to give the game away by marching off to the toilet straight away, so I spent another 5 minutes shuffling awkwardly on the dance floor and signalling to my girlfriend and friends "eww, is that you?" and "omg, can you smell that? gross!".

I made my excuses and squelched to the toilet. Once in the cubicle I hastily whipped my trousers and undercrackers down to find that my boxers had cradled this hideous mess perfectly. I had been so eager to dropped my trousers though, I hadn't removed my shoes. I didn't want to pull my kecks back up, so I had to perform this awkward balancing act of untying and removing one shoe at a time whilst not spilling the devil's stew that was swinging between my legs. Finally I had it all off and the "bag" of shame took several attempts to flush. I couldn't then go out and wash my arse and trousers in front of everyone at the sinks. So I spent the next 10mins shamelessly cupping water from the toilet basin to rinse my nipsy and clean the skids in my trousers.

Needless to say, not my finest hour.
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Bravo good sir, bravo.
 
Stephanie Peterson said:
Earlier today i had to pop home at dinner time, which i sometimes do, as i had that dreaded... "poo container reaching max capacity" feeling... I didnt want to drop the kids off at work, i have been there and done that and blocked the bog many times and the cistern takes an ice age to fill up on these old bogs we have everywhere its better to just nip out and use your own... plus if i properly **** myself everywhere i can shower it off... Try doing that in one of the disabled toilets while your coworkers wonder what the moaning noises and smell is.

Anyway today as i said, caught short at dinner time so as i live nearby i went home and let it rip, christ it was like a Saturn V take off.. i had to hold on to stop me from reaching escape velocity. good job i didnt leave it at work, someone would have called the RSPCA and claimed an elephant was on site.

I also once got the gut rumbles while waiting for a train to take me home the next day from a mega sesh in a nearby city. I couldn't wait the 30 mins or so to get back to my town and home so i opened up like an Uzi in the station toilet. Christ it was a load of my mind, and i did my best to clean it up but i hate to think what the next person opening that door thought.
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You don't sound like a Stephanie...
 
I was caught short when i was out drinking once and as i was between two pubs a bush had to be used. Its still regularly brought up by my friends now as that bush has since gone so i wonder if i killed it
 
Admiral Huddy said:
Football coach apparently not.. and the loo was out of order.
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I’m a big football follower but I’ve never been into travelling on supporters coaches. I’ve heard horror stories of black bin liners being used as makeshift toilets along with empty cans and bottles and even rolled-up newspapers. Apparently the clean-up operation afterwards isn’t for the faint-hearted.

Then again, if the driver won’t stop...
 
On the motorway, big crash, road closed, air ambulance, everyone standing by their cars chit chatting. Absolutely busting for a poo, started to panic a bit. Grabbed every bit of paper, receipts, scraps of cloth, etc thay I could find in the car and went down in the bushes at the side of the road, lost my footing and landed in a thorny Bush... After I had plucked myself out, in quite a bit of pain, I laid some OcUK patented soggy weatabix and a scrabbled back up the embankment again... Only time I've ever had to deficste outside of a toilet. :p
 
TimTom said:
I’m a big football follower but I’ve never been into travelling on supporters coaches. I’ve heard horror stories of black bin liners being used as makeshift toilets along with empty cans and bottles and even rolled-up newspapers. Apparently the clean-up operation afterwards isn’t for the faint-hearted.

Then again, if the driver won’t stop...
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I think it was because it was only stadium approach - no stopping.. Possibly.
 
Ever wondered what would happen if you had the squits and a vomiting bug at the same time?

I don't.

Sat on the toilet squirting away, when I felt vomit coming, I flushed and span round and vomited in the toilet. During the second vomit spasm me backside erupted, it hit the bathroom door about 2 foot up and ran all the way down...
 
Having IBS and being a keen drinker and cyclist means I'm not short of a few stories...

Perhaps the most memorable was a few years ago when I went up to visit a friend who was living in Penicuik, near Edinburgh during the Fringe festivities. We went to a burlesque night in Edinburgh which required dressing up. I wore a RAF Officer's No.1 uniform which I had from going to other burlesque nights with an ex-girlfriend. After much drinking, we ended up in the bars of Edinburgh, and then somehow drinking in a party in the Union Bar and Library of one of Edinburgh's universities.

I got a sudden attack of IBS cramps and found the gents; needless to say, as it was a party night during the Fringe, they were in a pretty grim state with virtually no loo roll. After using what little loo roll there was, I bit the bullet and removed my boxers (which I'd fortunately not soiled) and socks and used them to clean myself up, before disposing of them in the bin. Returning to the bar/library, I proceeded to somehow pull and go back to a Scottish lass's place right by the Hibs ground, leaving my mate in the lurch somewhere. I then had to do the walk of shame to Edinburgh bus station the next morning not only in my RAF Officer's uniform, but also commando with no socks :D
 
65km into a 100km walk event at about 1am.

I had rushed through the last break point and was chasing a time, so got on the way without visiting the loo.

Big mistake... about 2km into that leg, I just got the most crippling stomach cramps, and had nowhere else to go. I had toilet paper in my bag, result! However, what I did not take into account whilst tramping off the trail (not wanting to go too far, had walked far enough already!) was that my fatigued legs were not too keen on maintaining a "toilet squat" for very long. They were quite accommodating for the first 5 seconds or so, to......erm... get the flow going, but this changed far more rapidly than I anticipated, and I held onto a tree so tightly I swear I left fingermarks in it. I was really not keen on falling into my mess, or splashing anything onto my shorts..

There is nothing more motivating though than knowing you are in the middle of nowhere, with no chance of respite or proper cleanup/clean clothes for a number of hours, with at least 12km left to walk to the next rest-point..

I succeeded, and left the chaos behind me, only slightly more smug than when I arrived at that point.
 
One time I dropped my mother off at Stansted and thought I could make it home in time but just couldn't hold it. Ended up in some industrial estate and did the deed in some bushes and used leaves to clean up.

Second time was in Nottingham. New year's iirc. I had something bad to eat and had a case of the trotts. Couldn't hold it so just ran to the nearest bit of green I could find and let rip in the corner in darkness. Turned out it was some cemetery or church. Left a nasty surprise for the Gardner. It was either that or do it in my pants. I had a couple of unsafe farts so had to ditch my pants in the bin anyway. Went commando for the rest of the night but as we were outside for most of it was very cold down below!
 
Blimey - going back a good few years, probably a decade or so now, I had a work night out - few beers at a couple of bars, then onto a curry house. Living relatively close to Swindon town center, I decided rather than cab back with others I would walk home; in retrospect this was the right choice, following what transpired on the walk home - soon to be a walk of shame...

Maybe 5-10 minutes of drunken walking, I had passed the main bus station, and felt a familiar (albeit impending doom) rumbling down below - I knew what was coming and that I had probably seconds before the violence commenced. At this time, there were a couple of old yards nearby, an old garage or something - down a pretty shady road; and thankfully the gate was open and it was very dark inside!

Cue me locating a low wall inside, dropping my keks, and unleashing a torrent of disgust into the night. Instant relief and a huge pat on my back for a wild urban poop. I then decided to use my boxers to clean up, so after a bit of shuffling - I condemned the pair to the job, and inevitable dump into whatever I left behind this wall. After a quick clean up, my eyes had adjusting to the dark surroundings - looking over my left should, what do I see? A male/female toilet sign :( And sure enough, it was unlocked and fully stocked with loo roll and an actual bog :( :(
 
I was working on a refurbishment job in Asda Carlisle a fair few years ago. It was a lovely summer as I recall, very rare I'm sure you'll agree. Anyway, I generally hate doing a number 2 anywhere other than my own loo, or in this case the loo back in the B&B, but I had to go at work this particular day because nature didn't share my fussy ways.

Being on a building site, the toilet was a little portable cabin housing about three lavatories side by side. The stalls were separated by full height walls, which was reassuring as I also hate doing my business with another person's feet on display, braced for the smell to hit me. The doors were also fully enclosed as opposed to the usual gap at the bottom or top, so all good. I sat on the throne and the turtle's head was just starting to emerge when I saw it, on the back of the door. A wasp.

Fear gripped me, but the panic was under control for the moment. I watched my adversary crawl around the top of the door for a bit, as the turtle's head eased itself out slowly, now on auto pilot. I cursed my luck; a fully enclosed stall had escalated from comfort & simple bliss to cruel imprisonment. Plop! The delivery was made, and as soon as it his the splash I instinctively knew that there was more to come. Too soon to wipe and too terrified to squeeze, I knew we couldn't go on like this. One of us had to make the first move.

Slowly, I reached for the toilet roll. I dispensed enough to go from holder to floor, and I gingerly tore it off and rolled it into a fist sized ball. I watched the wasp intensely, waiting for the perfect strike. If I breathed at all in that time, then I was unaware of it. I was in the zone. It stopped walking and seemed to inspect it's surroundings. Woosh, I struck. It was the type of strike where you hit and spring immediately back, and as I did the enemy emerged in an utter rage.

My heart was pounding in my chest, it was on! What happened next is a bit of a blur, but I could summarise by saying we fought for a short time, it dive bombed me a few times, I slapped it away and finally I got in another shot that finally saw it hit the deck. At some point during the exchange, my second installment had hit the splash. I didn't even bother to wipe.

As I emerged from the toilet, walking down the steps into to the bright afternoon, I couldn't get the battle out of my head. I was going like a battery and as I was doing up the button on my shorts, I felt it. It wasn't the sting that hurt the most, it was the knowledge sink in of what had just happened. It had landed on my pants that were around my ankles less than a minute ago, and it had just stung me on the brown bullseye. I could have cried.

I screamed out loud, and immediately dropped my drawers to defend myself. There was no need, because as soon as I dropped them, the little ****** flew off, bruised but victorious. I slowly pulled my pants back up, and my vision cleared to see a bloke standing a short distance away, just staring at me.

I always check the bathroom in the summer, and I never poop with the window open. I also have to get my wife to deal with any wasps that ever get in the house, much to the amusement of my children.

:(
 
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