What's the etiquette here??

Sgt Hartman · 21-11-2022 8:28am

So here's my offering for this morning....

On Saturday eve I washed down a nice meal of peppered steak burgers, sauteed veggies and mashed potato with 5 cans of strong Lithuanian beer and a shot of Polish pear liqueur. The flatulence that followed throughout the evening turned the bedroom into an environment hazard. Even Toby the Jack Russell,who usually likes to come into our bedroom and squeeze under the covers for some warmth,was overwhelmed by the fumes.

When I finally awoke on Sunday morning and hit the bathroom, I produced a surprising solid stool which burst through my anal sphincter like a medieval battering ram. The following stool at midday was also rather solid but I could feel the burn from the previous evening's peppered steak. This was followed by more pungent flatulence throughout the afternoon. To mask the embarrassing trumpeting sound I would discreetly grab my right buttock and pull it to the side before performing a slow controlled release of toxic gas. The third and final bowel movement in the early evening was a horrid blend of creamy brown sludge and sewer gas which scorched my ring like molten magma. I spent the rest of the evening feeling the burn for the want of a tube of Bepanthen cream. A poultice of bamboo toilet paper soaked with ice cold water before bedtime did the trick and soothed the fire in the auld rusty sheriff's badge.

Brendan Bendar · 21-11-2022 10:49am

https://www.boards.ie/discussion/comment/119899062#Comment_119899062

46/28 ‘club’ annotates the average waist and inside leg measurements of these tossers who shop in Guineys and

pack the traps of our golf club at 1005 hrs busting out the full fry breakfast and clearing the guts of the previous

evenings wine, when their tee off time is 0958hrs.

Then the fcukkers waddle on to the first tee trousers flapping like the mainsails of a round the world yacht and proceed

to hold up whole course without a word of apology.

Hope that answers your question.

Grouptherapy · 21-11-2022 12:01pm

Following comments that the facilities smelt 'like a Piggery' each stall now has a spray can of mixed berries air freshner left on top of the cistern. Not sure which is worse - the bang of au naturel midden, or artificially sweetened!

Larbre34 · 22-11-2022 3:28pm

Any architect who when designing a communal building, doesn't put industrial extractor fans over the traps, wants bloody shooting. And not just the Gents WC, my good wife tells me the Ladies' are well bound to smell like a burned down farm at the best of times.

Air freshener my arse.

spacetweek · 28-11-2022 6:58pm

This afternoon in work I headed to the gentlemen’s throne to drop off a few bits and pieces at the dump, when another chap entered the cubicle beside me and hastily dropped trou. Right off the bat he emitted a fart like the horn signalling Judgement Day and I cringed, but he wasn’t done yet. A series of farticle explosions came rushing from his emergency exit, each emission shorter and tighter and higher-pitched than the last, like Miles Davis reaching the crescendo of one of his trumpet solos at a deafening jazz gig.

Unwilling to have to look the noxious fcuker in the eye, I hurriedly completed my own paperwork, rinsed hands and beat a hasty path out of the place.

Nevin Parsnipp · 29-11-2022 9:39am

At least the Dude was upfront in his approach and signaled his intentions plainly if rather loudly.

Somethin manly and straight about that in my opinion.

Was buying a few stamps in a post office the other day in a Q behind two generously proportioned ladies....heard a slight long hissing noise which I didn't pay much attention to ...but then was engulfed by a fog of foul arse gas....

The "ladies"beat a hasty retreat with one saying loudly "bold dog" to the poor innocent hound she had on a lead.

"Cut down on the rich food Missus" was my parting rejoinder as they waddled out the door....

padd b1975 · 29-11-2022 10:21am

https://www.boards.ie/discussion/comment/119900569#Comment_119900569

Whizz around on carts too Bren, rocking up on the tee when a man is about to unleash a 280 yarder and claim entitlement to the "honour".

I'm a patient man with faultless etiquette but we've all got a breaking point...

Grouptherapy · 29-11-2022 1:39pm

Bad experience earlier friends, luckily I wasn't in main office..

Logged out a mother lode of midden. A real cathartic moment and I felt quite pleased with myself. Completed the necessary paperwork and left seat up for the next punter. It was then I noticed. Some gimp had left midden on top of the bowl and managed to smear it in around the seat hinge. Fcuking swine.

Gets worse though. I exited the trap and walked straight in to a lad practically hopping from foot to foot waiting for a seat. Under obvious pressure, and he shouldered past me in his haste to get in. Carnage in there was immediately obvious and door being slammed and locked was quickly followed by 'Ah Jaysus, Durty Bastard!' Fortunately I didn't have to hang around too long after that.

mfceiling · 29-11-2022 8:01pm

Has anyone seen these poxy roll dispensers that allow one paltry sheet at a time though a tiny circle in the side? One mistimed pull or any hap handed fingers and you're left clutching thin air.

I was using the traps in a rather nice garden centre today and the first one I went into had no roll poking through the little opening. Left it and went to the adjoining trap where all was good. Just finishing up and I heard a lad almost take the door off the hinges in the first stall. He'd barely the bags down when the noise started. Grunting, moaning, whistling and the inevitable clatter of what sounded like a weekends worth of porter and takeaways destroying the porcelain.

I was washing up and couldn't help but have sympathy for a poor fûcker who would be shortly glancing left for some arse rags but none would be forthcoming.

29-11-2022 10:42pm

The Tork “SmartOne”. The equivalent of leaded petrol when it comes to the impact it’s had on personal hygiene and hole wiping.

29-11-2022 11:53pm

https://www.boards.ie/discussion/comment/119907130#Comment_119907130

Fact: women’s’ colons are longer than men’s by 10 centimetres and are largely unsupported by muscle mass. Result is a larger more flaccid container where the gatherings of one’s intake have extra time to ferment and grow almost exponentially like sourdough starter. Result can be a volatile container of formidable Toxicity with more variations in effect than known to most menfolk. Fortunately I no longer have any of these issues, having had said troublesome container surgically removed, but I would invite the gentlemen here to drop in on the ladies from time to time just for the experience.

cj maxx · 30-11-2022 7:11am

I thought my ‘bout’ had passed, but i , rightfully, don’t trust myself. Felt a fart coming on and sat down. Queue an unbelievable scour. That at least completely emptied me.

Grouptherapy · 30-11-2022 11:35am

https://www.boards.ie/discussion/comment/119937385#Comment_119937385

"Think Ahead" is right. You'd need to spend 5 mins plucking sheets from those fcuking contraptions before settling down to log out.

Slideways · 30-11-2022 1:40pm

https://www.boards.ie/discussion/comment/119937699#Comment_119937699

If they are that much longer why did they get so uppity when you wanna go off-roading for a change?

30-11-2022 2:08pm

https://www.boards.ie/discussion/comment/119939261#Comment_119939261

I’d say you’re driving a Pajero Mini as opposed to a Hummer as well.

ILikeBoats · 30-11-2022 2:17pm

https://www.boards.ie/discussion/comment/119938744#Comment_119938744

I'm not sure if it was a Tork SmartOne, but in my previous employment the traps had a one sheet wonder dispenser. If you pulled slowly, you could actually get few sheets out in one go, like normal.

I feel these are only put in place because of some kernts nicking the big rolls. You'd think an office of "professionals" wouldn't have that issue.

30-11-2022 4:02pm

Listen I can see why they might be required in places like a Tesco staff shïtter, Technical University or greyhound track, but if you’re staying in a fancy hotel or a pub that is charging you €6 for a pint of stout then I expect to see at least 3-ply on offer when you go to “polish your Roman coin”.

Grouptherapy · 01-12-2022 8:53am

https://www.boards.ie/discussion/comment/119940103#Comment_119940103

Well said Dr. Life's too short to be fingering one of those yokes for a sheet at a time.

01-12-2022 1:34pm

Was in the regional office of a large semi-state this morning and headed into the canteen for a cup of coffee.

Found out there had been a staff knees up the night before and there was a lot of big units with mouldy heads on them queueing up for the full Irish.

The coffee was putrid as it always is in those sort of places, and the Laxwell House effect soon had me looking for the jacks. The first three cubicles were occupied and the stench was absolutely overpowering. Grunts, squeaks, sighs, plops and artillery fire to beat the band. Cubicle 4 was a fücking disgrace, some prick had obviously had to go back for seconds and had left a “map of the Philippines” all round the bowl.

Cubicle 5 had a nasty odour and the seat had sweaty arse patches all over the seat. Had to go with the extremely tricky hold your nose and hover manoeuvre. Last resort, but you’ll all be glad to know I didn’t “hit the crossbar” with any of it.

Not a pleasant morning.

Brendan Bendar · 01-12-2022 7:16pm

’Arse tracery’ Dr. One of the many things a lad shouldn’t see on the slow closer.

Was in a pub in the North—West recently and visited the bang box after a ‘generous’ intake of rather fresh stout.

Despite the foul smell the seat was imprinted with a filigree of arse tracery only a 22 stone unit could achieve.

Fücker didn’t even wipe the seat after himself. Expected a lad to sit down on that!!

Threw the head, dhropped the skids and from the ‘ shotgun’ position gouted out a thin spray of loose midden that only fresh stout can achieve and shrouded the unit with a cake of drittle than would close the stall for the night.

Might as well do it right sez I as I surveyed the devastation.

Filthy kernts.

01-12-2022 9:35pm

Nevin must have popped into this place to “make room for the dinner”.

Count Dracula · 01-12-2022 11:51pm

Taking a breather from the sauce for this weekend, I have an important meeting with some Japanese Sales reps on Monday which has and will develop into a full pelt Monday afternoon blow out with some of the freakiest pissheads Asia has to offer. I am anticipating Karaoke and possibly some light hearted Sumo style belly fights by around 8pm, probably Cafe en Seine. Not looking forward to the bill either, those chunts went through almost 2k last Christmas and that was not including a box at Ascot for the Long Walk Hurdle.

It reminds me of the flight home that evening from LCA after the days racing. I got myself into a bit of bother at the races after trying to chat up a 30 something fox over too many Hor d'oeuvres and an overenthusiastic attempt at necking a magnum of rocket fueled Veuve Clicquot... it felt like a good idea at the time. After making a complete shambles of myself in the corporate box I then managed to get caught dry humping the same floozy by one of my Japanese counterparts near the fire exit opposite the smoking area, " awwwwwwwww Dwa coooo la , you nawty maaaaan haw haw haw haw" or something to that effect. Phucker posted the picks on their group wassap, dangerous enough. Between this that and the other I made a ludicrous attempt to make the last plane to Dublin. In fairness the head of the Jap consortium was very decent about arranging an executive taxi across town, a nice touch and after I managed to convince the floozy that I would be back in ten minutes I landed into the back seat and spent an excruciating hour telling white lies to the Cockney driver doing his best to appear sophisticated, painful stuff. I ended up telling him that I was an engineer for the Continental tyre group, keeping it simple.

Problem was that we had to hit Enbankment, Westminster and the city to make the airport. Initially things were fine, I was humming along to Christmas tunes in the back seat, smoking a fag and nailing some Solpadine to prep for the inevitable Champers crash which was beginning to settle in, I told the wife I was in Cavan putting my uncle's dog down, it's complicated.

By the time we were circling the Olympic stadium i had begun to fart with tremendous vigor, I just kept apologising and laughed them off with both back windows wide open, I couldn't do anything else. They reeked of garlic, onion, peppercorn, that afternoons' mushroom soup with hints of chicken liver vol au vent... wuuffff. Phucking belters started coming after a while, I just started letting full rip, at this stage the driver had his head out the window, he was taking it quite well all said. I tipped him a ton sterling and told him my famous jelly and jam joke, it managed to do the trick.

Thankfully Samantha, my London PA, had arranged executive tickies so I made it straight to the CityJet lounge and ordered a luscious pint of stout to take the edge off things. It was only a few fingers deep when I got the 2 minute warning. I tried for an SBD but no joy, this pile was imminent. I made my way over to the facilities, beautifully heated and attended by smiling Romanian students with superb perfume. I had the entire chamber house to myself, I went for the last trap on the right. If I remember correctly the music started off with Fred Astaire and Bowie giving it full la rappa pum pum, a really sublime way to drop your Kacks. It had a gorgeous fully functional coat hanger.. I decided to unwind and whipped off the cufflinks and rolled up my sleeves. the seat was perfect temperature, I felt like I was in the goldilocks nursery rhyme, not too cold and not too warm... just right.

I arched my back as I placed my hands firmly on my knees and commenced lift off. I gasped in pleasure as I felt 3 maybe 4 stupendous lairy Christmas yules rummage their way pass my sphincter and flop themselves into the ample landing zone. I exclaimed a stupendous " ahhhh " as I gave the victory sign to the iconic picture of Marylyn Monroe collaged over the side wall. It really was a tremendous effort. Regrettably I still had the minor price of some serious scrubbing with the delicious peach coated 3 ply that was on offer, like wiping your hole with your mistresses' silk knickers all said. I recited the lord's prayer.

I managed to convince the other half that there was shight coverage in Cavan that evening so the whole day went by a treat. The flight home was seamless, and I even managed a few swifities on Baggott street when changing out of my suit. My brother superbly collected me and drove me home, he went for a beep and a wave and I managed to look so phucked that she mistook the state of me for my feigned grief of having to exterminate a cocker spaniel she had never even seen before, women these days wha?

Enjoy the festive dumps comrades. Make the most of them. May your shight flow with the sweet winds of festive cheer.