Having to poo in someone else’s house
Le Cunt : The need to break with all good protocol and lay cable in someone else’s home.
L’evidence : Like most well educated folk I keep my pooing to my own house. It is comfortable, the reading material is plentiful and I do not have to worry about stinking out the place.
However, every so often one is caught short and you have to go against every instinct in your body and take a crap in someone else’s gaff.
The reason this is a problem is because you never take a good crap, like the ones which come out in less than 10 seconds and require no wiping, or the little rabbit dropping ones which, although they will plinky-plonky in the toilet bowl, are probably the least offensive craps a human can produce.
No, when you have a BM in someone else’s house it’s because you haven’t fully managed to evacuate before leaving home. Perhaps a combination of drink, drugs, kebabs and other substances has left your bowels in a state. The one you plopped at home was barely half-cooked. The other half was still basting in your gizzards and when the bell pings it has to come out.
They are almost always painful, they almost always take an age to fully give birth too and they are, not almost, but ALWAYS, always the smelliest of all shites. If you can imagine the stink of a dead tramp’s corpse, being feasted on by a special variety of maggot who eats the rotting flesh and then vomits out a substance which smells like a mix of 4 day old smegma, Paris Hilton’s minge and a Roscommon slurry pit.
The worst part is there’s always someone waiting outside to use it. Even if you open the window it makes no odds. You have to sit and wait for a while to hope the smell dies down enough so that when that person goes in after you they don’t immediately call the authorities to raze the house to the ground because of the impossible infection that has been unleashed in their bog.
And isn’t always the downstairs loo as well so that when the door opens the stench wafts through the house? It is.
Le Verdict : I love a good poo but having to do it in someone else’s house is a big pile of ‘I know we all poo and all poo smells but Jesus Christ I wouldn’t inflict this on my worst enemy’ Le Cunt.
(14 votes, average: 9.50 out of 10)
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You missed out the evil ninja-turd that believes it’s really some sort of life raft and will not sink. Flush the bastard from now until hell freezes, and it still bobs merrily to the surface. Le Cunt indeed.
Yeah, a floater in someone else’s house. How the hell did I forget about that?!
Of course in the time it takes to ‘clear’ to you just get more accustomed to the smell. You creep out thinking you’ve got away with it ’till half way down the stairs you hear “Ah for fuck sake” out loud from the loo …
and when you come out of the bathroom there is always and I mean always some cunt that lives there waiting to go in……..
yes very bad. Puking is also not good, goes all over the place.
I love the no wipe shits
For some reason every time I had to crap at this one mates house it was always the worst. Had a consistency of industrial slurry and was capable of reanimating fossils. Most cuntly.
I had to do the business in a friend’s house in the UK. It was a doozy, big on volume, big on fragrance. Then I discovered there was no water in the cistern. “Oh, by the way,” says mine host, “Don’t use the loo, the water’s been disconnected for the morning.” A trip to the local shop for several bottles of water, a borrowed screwdriver to unscrew (honestly!) the lid of the cistern, and my problem was disposed of.