What's the etiquette here??

Deebles McBeebles

Conjures a beautiful image, G. Waking your kids by squatting over them and letting loose, hoping its only gas that comes out.

partyguinness

I have no idea why anyone would wear white jocks. Perhaps it appeals to the inner male model in our head we think we are.

I can count on one hand how many times I have worn white jocks in my 40 years and still have fingers left over. The pressure is just too much. Can't handle it.

gerrybbadd

partyguinness wrote: »

I have no idea why anyone would wear white jocks. Perhaps it appeals to the inner male model in our head we think we are.

I can count on one hand how many times I have worn white jocks in my 40 years and still have fingers left over. The pressure is just too much. Can't handle it.

I wouldn't normally wear them myself, but they were part of a multi pack and were on the top of the clean laundry when i made a grab for some unmentionables. They weren't too long going back into the dirty laundry pile anyhow.

Ya wouldn't see a JCB leaving a skid like it, in a field below at the ploughing championships

Ush1

Strange on there today lads.

Was in the work jacks taking a slash at the urinal when I couldn't help but notice a strange wiping sound.

We all are familiar with the general rhythm and sounds of grunting and wiping, hit the odd bit or clagnut or dangle berry, pause and back at it...but this wiping sounded more like shimmying or a polishing action.

It's been on my mind all day, was this guy polishing his sheriffs badge, perhaps in anticipation of rimming action later on? Perhaps he was about to take a dick pic and wanted a nice snàs on his helmet?

Thoughts?

Lil Sally Anne Jnr.

Was it wet sounding?

Sharp MZ700

Could be something simple like rubbing his telephone number out on the Jax wall. We've all seen them" For gay sex phone blablabla".
If he had the foresight to polish the crockery in the middle of the workday on the promise of a rimjob, I'd be looking around the office for telltale signs, colleague spitting,fresh mouth rashes, dry hacking or similar.

Or as Sally suggests, maybe you inadvertently bore aural witness to an actual rimjob.

Bullocks

Ush1 wrote: »

Strange on there today lads.

Was in the work jacks taking a slash at the urinal when I couldn't help but notice a strange wiping sound.

We all are familiar with the general rhythm and sounds of grunting and wiping, hit the odd bit or clagnut or dangle berry, pause and back at it...but this wiping sounded more like shimmying or a polishing action.

It's been on my mind all day, was this guy polishing his sheriffs badge, perhaps in anticipation of rimming action later on? Perhaps he was about to take a dick pic and wanted a nice snàs on his helmet?

Thoughts?

Hand shandy

Sharp MZ700

Bullocks wrote: »

Hand shandy

The durrty Kant. There's a time and a place.

knockers84

Probably given himself an enema and shoving a baby wipe up his hole with a pen to clean it out for the d later

Bullocks

Sharp MZ700 wrote: »

Bullocks wrote: »

Hand shandy

The durrty Kant. There's a time and a place.

Tell me about it . Used to work with a lad that was always getting boners at work , they would be poking at his tracksuit until he would tell us he was off to sort it out . No shame in him whatsoever !

Strumms

partyguinness wrote: »

The pressure is just too much. Can't handle it.

Definitely dangerous with white jocks.

Hotblack Desiato

Sharp MZ700 wrote: »

The durrty Kant. There's a time and a place.

Plenty on here have praised the art of taking a shyte and being paid for it, surely this is just taking the next logical step?

knockers84 wrote: »

Probably given himself an enema and shoving a baby wipe up his hole with a pen to clean it out for the d later

Who are we to judge? Well, as long as the baby wipe was disposed of in a responsible manner and not just flushed like a clueless kernt.


Anyway. Here's an offer from Lidl on Monday that may interest a few of yiz:

https://www.lidl.ie/en/p/care-comfort/freestanding-toilet-frame/p26433

Could come in handy for some of those more difficult evacuations - when you need something to grip on to (maybe they could supply something to bite down on as well? And remember your breathing)

Sharp MZ700

I especially like the pamphlet holder, adds a rounded age spectrum to the user. Added to the uniquely engineered disguised "oh flock it I think I might tear meself" brace.

Might queue for that thanks.

Hotblack Desiato

Lads and lassies, this is too good to just sit on (as it were) and not share.

Not my work, I came across it on Usenet (ask an adult or older person) at least ten years after it was first posted, via the unforgettable alt.tasteless group :pac: and everything posted on Usenet is copyright free - the OP certainly seemed to want to spread far and wide (oo-er missus). So enjoy, but keep those sphincters clenched tight

============================================


BEGIN THE SAGA...
Subject: My anal fissure Bob
From: afissure@yahoo.com (Joe Cidoni)
Date: Wed, 20 Oct 93 10:44:00 +0200

After lurking about in the wings the required 2 months I have
felt the need to tell you about my anal fissure Bob.

It all started about two years ago in Thailand. I had just
fired a round of green chilli liquish!t down the
hole that the Asians call "toilet" when I noticed an odd
sensation just inside the rim of my sphincter accompanied by a
blasting spray of rich red blood.

After living in Asia for six months I thought that I had
experienced nearly every digestive tract malady known to man.
Worms, burning and colonic liquidity on a huge scale. Butt
(hehe) this was something completely different.

It was the singularly unique feeling that I know now to have
been the actual tearing of my rectum. It was Bob making himself
known to me.

At first Bob wasn't so bad. Occasional itch and discomfort.
Nothing that I couldn't handle. A mint flavoured suppository now
and again seemed to do the trick.

But then about a year ago my cruel master Bob began requiring
more and more from me. Itching on a scale that can only be
described as "hellish" was the order of the day. I had a
permanent brown stain on my index finger from trying to scratch
the inside of my colon through my troubled anus.

I had lost all sense of decorum. I no longer cared what people
thought. I often walk around in public with my hand down my
pants, finger firmly implanted, trying to appease the evil God
Bob.

In my spare time I would daydream about modifying various farm
implements to deal with the overwhelming itch. I even went so
far as to order a tined hand trowel.

Finally, I went to see a doctor. He made a quick diagnosis of
haemorrhoids and let me go with a prescription for some
industrial strength hemlube (tm.) The doc never saw Bob, who
had retreated into his tear in fear of his only natural enemy,
the medical practitioner.

This only made Bob more angry and he visited wanton terror
upon me. I began babbling to myself and have conditioned myself
so against sh!tting that it is only with a great gnashing of
teeth to I make my approach to the bowl. As the fecal load descends I feel
my rectum tear asunder like the curtain of the holy tabernacle. Bob
laughing. Bob laughing.

Now, I have finally found a doctor that can help me. She made
the diagnosis with a flashlight clamped firmly in her teeth. I
had met her in a bar and Bob was not expecting a midnight
diagnosis on my living room floor. "No problem" she said.
[She's definitely a keeper - Ed.]

I have since been scheduled for surgery on October 29th to
exorcise Bob from my most tender of parts. He seems to have
accepted his fate and has been more peaceful as of late. We
spend our time singing and reminiscing about our last two years
together. We talk about the life after this one and I comfort
him with rectal salve and oatmeal.

I will post details of the operation, and details about the
demise of Bob.

I hope that he will be brave.


===================================

Stay tuned

Sharp MZ700

There's no killing Bob,, or Roberta as what it might be known as now ten years on.
When one cannot distinguish between fag finger nor arse finger(as is the case here), it's gone pretty much unrepairable.
I like the man's honesty if anything, he's not bragging, just sharing.

Hotblack Desiato

You know that feeling when you get talking to a girl in a bar and it turns out she's a doctor and half an hour later she's shining a torch up your arse and giving you a diagnosis?

No, me neither.

JohnnyFlash

Had fish and chips, mushy peas, 10 cans of Guinness, and a bag of Bombay mix yesterday evening for the tea. I’m not going to lie, that’s pretty much the greatest hits of things I like to eat and drink. My death row meal.

The farts are fücking wojus this morning though - long, low, and ominous, and with a slightly musty odour that doesn’t dissipate quickly. And I’m starting to get some gurgles as well. I’d say I’ll be coating the pan fairly soon. Will keep you all updated.

Hotblack Desiato

JohnnyFlash wrote: »

Had fish and chips, mushy peas, 10 cans of Guinness, and a bag of Bombay mix yesterday evening for the tea.

I'm struggling to think of what you could add to that, pretty much the perfect meal for the purposes of this thread.

Bullocks

Hotblack Desiato wrote: »

JohnnyFlash wrote: »

Had fish and chips, mushy peas, 10 cans of Guinness, and a bag of Bombay mix yesterday evening for the tea.

I'm struggling to think of what you could add to that, pretty much the perfect meal for the purposes of this thread.

Two bags of Tayto cheese and onion around the 6th can of guinney

padd b1975

Sharp MZ700 wrote: »

I especially like the pamphlet holder, adds a rounded age spectrum to the user. Added to the uniquely engineered disguised "oh flock it I think I might tear meself" brace.

Might queue for that thanks.

You'd be as well going for a full Doc M pack.

Don't be penny wise and pound foolish when it comes to the most important business of the day.

PicardWithHair

Hotblack Desiato wrote: »

Lads and lassies, this is too good to just sit on (as it were) and not share.

Not my work, I came across it on Usenet (ask an adult or older person) at least ten years after it was first posted, via the unforgettable alt.tasteless group :pac: and everything posted on Usenet is copyright free - the OP certainly seemed to want to spread far and wide (oo-er missus). So enjoy, but keep those sphincters clenched tight

============================================


BEGIN THE SAGA...
Subject: My anal fissure Bob
From: afissure@yahoo.com (Joe Cidoni)
Date: Wed, 20 Oct 93 10:44:00 +0200

After lurking about in the wings the required 2 months I have
felt the need to tell you about my anal fissure Bob.

It all started about two years ago in Thailand. I had just
fired a round of green chilli liquish!t down the
hole that the Asians call "toilet" when I noticed an odd
sensation just inside the rim of my sphincter accompanied by a
blasting spray of rich red blood.

After living in Asia for six months I thought that I had
experienced nearly every digestive tract malady known to man.
Worms, burning and colonic liquidity on a huge scale. Butt
(hehe) this was something completely different.

It was the singularly unique feeling that I know now to have
been the actual tearing of my rectum. It was Bob making himself
known to me.

At first Bob wasn't so bad. Occasional itch and discomfort.
Nothing that I couldn't handle. A mint flavoured suppository now
and again seemed to do the trick.

But then about a year ago my cruel master Bob began requiring
more and more from me. Itching on a scale that can only be
described as "hellish" was the order of the day. I had a
permanent brown stain on my index finger from trying to scratch
the inside of my colon through my troubled anus.

I had lost all sense of decorum. I no longer cared what people
thought. I often walk around in public with my hand down my
pants, finger firmly implanted, trying to appease the evil God
Bob.

In my spare time I would daydream about modifying various farm
implements to deal with the overwhelming itch. I even went so
far as to order a tined hand trowel.

Finally, I went to see a doctor. He made a quick diagnosis of
haemorrhoids and let me go with a prescription for some
industrial strength hemlube (tm.) The doc never saw Bob, who
had retreated into his tear in fear of his only natural enemy,
the medical practitioner.

This only made Bob more angry and he visited wanton terror
upon me. I began babbling to myself and have conditioned myself
so against sh!tting that it is only with a great gnashing of
teeth to I make my approach to the bowl. As the fecal load descends I feel
my rectum tear asunder like the curtain of the holy tabernacle. Bob
laughing. Bob laughing.

Now, I have finally found a doctor that can help me. She made
the diagnosis with a flashlight clamped firmly in her teeth. I
had met her in a bar and Bob was not expecting a midnight
diagnosis on my living room floor. "No problem" she said.
[She's definitely a keeper - Ed.]

I have since been scheduled for surgery on October 29th to
exorcise Bob from my most tender of parts. He seems to have
accepted his fate and has been more peaceful as of late. We
spend our time singing and reminiscing about our last two years
together. We talk about the life after this one and I comfort
him with rectal salve and oatmeal.

I will post details of the operation, and details about the
demise of Bob.

I hope that he will be brave.


===================================

Stay tuned

I remember reading that back in college!
The operation part is f*cking vile if I remember correctly...

1993 ! wow!

Slideways

Further to my post about the scrunching versus folding.

I’ve taken to scrunching with the vigour of a 12 yr old to his flute when he finds out her can do more than just piss with it.

It’s a great way to get purchase on the sheriffs badge with no fear of popping a finger through. Now I must admit that I only do this at work, can’t be using bog roll that I have paid for, although it provides a stimulating clean it is horrendously wasteful.

Hal3000

JohnnyFlash wrote: »

Had fish and chips, mushy peas, 10 cans of Guinness, and a bag of Bombay mix yesterday evening for the tea. I’m not going to lie, that’s pretty much the greatest hits of things I like to eat and drink. My death row meal.

The farts are fücking wojus this morning though - long, low, and ominous, and with a slightly musty odour that doesn’t dissipate quickly. And I’m starting to get some gurgles as well. I’d say I’ll be coating the pan fairly soon. Will keep you all updated.

Christ almighty. That treatment plant might refuse that offering.

Lil Sally Anne Jnr.

Any of you ever force it through as fast as possible. I occasionally do this out both ends. Sometimes I like to apply maximal pressure and skirt the pleasure/pain threshold.


Also, just lol at non-schrunchers.

Lewis_Benson

Hal3000 wrote: »

Christ almighty. That treatment plant might refuse that offering.

Sounds like Johnny needs to go see a doctor!

JohnnyFlash

On sale in Lidl from tomorrow. Has a storage basket for reading materials. Max 110kg so not suitable for Brendan Bendar.

Lil Sally Anne Jnr.

I've got a bit of deja-poo

JohnnyFlash

Lil Sally Anne Jnr. wrote: »

I've got a bit of deja-poo

Sorry, pal, I’ve been on the beer all weekend and my head is mush.

Hotblack Desiato

I bet that's not all that is mush

Lewis_Benson

I'm fiercely gaseous today.
Had a steak dinner last night followed by a few pints of strong stout...the gasses are toxic.