Thetownend.com

All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over 48 hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with a bowl of ass cleansing fiber cereal, following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell.

As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to pick up an order for the wife. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the mall toilet. I surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 1 through 5 for your convenience:

1. Occupied.

2. Clean, but male Toilet Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one.

3. Shit smeared on seat.

4. Shit and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.

5. No toilet paper, no stall door, something growing near base of toilet.

Clearly, it had to be Stall #2. I trudged back, entered, dropped the trousers and sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful Shitter. I wasn't happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.

I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. Shitter was blathering to Mrs. Shitter about the shitty day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My ass let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.

Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder with one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit the resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently.

Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent:

(1) The next-door conversation had ceased;

(2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there was more to come;

(3) the toilet was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench.

It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.

"Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??"

Now there was no stopping me. I pushed for all I was worth. I could swear that in the resulting cacophony of rips, squirts, splashes, poots, and blasts, I was actually lifted slightly off the pot. The amount of stuff in me was incredible. It sprayed against the bowl with tremendous force. Later, in surveying the damage, I'd see that liquid poop had actually managed to ricochet out of the bowl and run down the side on to the floor. But for now, all I could do was hang on for the ride.

Next door I could hear him fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw up...in my mouth... not... make it... tell the kids...love them... oh God..." followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.

Alas, it is evidently difficult to hold one's phone and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by string of swear words and gags. My shit-mate had dropped his phone into the bog.

There was a lull in my production, and the toilet became deathly quiet. I could envision him standing there, wondering what to do. A final anal announcement came trumpeting from my behind, small chunks plopping noisily into the water. That must have been the last straw. I heard a flush, a fumbling with the lock, and then the stall door was thrown open. I heard him running out of the toilet, slamming the door behind him.

After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who'd be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle that unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor flooded with filth.

As I left, I glanced into the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the toiletwith nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know.

I exited the toilet, momentarily proud and shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has managed to transfer my shamefulness to my anonymous shit-mate. I think it'll be a long time before he can bring himself to shit in public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in a public toilet. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone on the bog.

:D

one of the best posts ever!

although personally i cannot understand your cubicle etiquette; i was aware of such procedure on urinal use, but not in toilets.

the louder the prouder for me, i'd have exited with a smile on my face at such an accomplishment.

six cups of coffee will do that to you.

:Ride On Fatbury's Lovestick:

That has got to be one of the funniest things I've read!!!  :mrgreen:

Good work sir!!

Funniest post for a long time.

I like.

shit post....

Can only echo the noises from those who read this before me - I enjoyed every second of that.

Only wish it hadn't come to an end.

A change of title is in order methinks - no longer will you be 'lost in america' but something much more personalised.

That is ace!

*wipes tear from eye* that was beautiful man, beautiful.

that was super-mega-ace.

Superb   8)

Mod, make this a sticky.

That is almost publishably good!

I love toilet humour (sorry I mean humor).

 :clap:

that was the greatest post ever. i'm going to shut the forum now because that can never be beaten.

Pleasure to have been of service folks  :wink:

 :fishing:

You can't possibly be taking credit for that?

Wanker :D

Is the post a hoax?  :shock:   :shock:   :shock:

Is it a copy n paste jobbie?

:Ride On Fatbury's Lovestick:

Right, change his title back.

Still, good read though.

cheeky bastard

http://www.burntpickle.com/articles/funniest-shit-ever/

I think that means I'm still the funniest person on the internet.

I really should post that on that Moocamp forum as a first post, if I ever get my login verified  :P

I did think earlier the Time difference in the US. Bit early to have dinner and finish work. I knew it, I just didn't want to sound like a twat.

think I got mine sorted straight away, didn't post anything though. Sure it hasn't been lost in a junk mail filter?

well I did say it was a shit post  :roll:

It was obvious it wasn't him.

But hilarious all the same

:Ride On Fatbury's Lovestick:  :Ride On Fatbury's Lovestick:  :Ride On Fatbury's Lovestick:  fucking  :Ride On Fatbury's Lovestick:

like the new title, who can I thank for that one I wonder... :soapy tit wank:

I never once said it was a personal experience, you gullible cunts all assumed it was. 1-0 to me.

 :Ride On Fatbury's Lovestick:

I think the use of I within the post would lead people to assume it was you...face it you're a plagiarist ponce.

So nobody else noticed American terms like 'stall' and 'cell phone' being used then? Especially after the use of 'mobile' in the thread title.

Obviously a few people did notice or are less gullible.

Doesn't coxenator boy live in america?

:Ride On Fatbury's Lovestick:

Damnit! I thought I'd taken the obvious references out but forgot those. And yes FB, I do live in the States (for now...).

When I got sent this via e-mail, it was just too funny not to post. The fact it got some of you wound up as well was just an added bonus and has made an otherwise humdrum day much more entertaining   :mrgreen:

I don't give a fuck if it was stolen, I still laughed my arse off.

this deserves to re-read by newbies like me - pumbaa this is ace even though you are a thieving cunt!!

Agree with axs, even if it was stolen it is still an amazing post!

Verdict: The thieving cunt title should remain, but all credit to Coxy for posting it!

I never read it first time, I have to say I was sat here fucking hurting and with tears in my eyes for that!

Fucking best post ever Coxy mate!

Firstly its not really that funny, secondly stop giving that theiving cunt credit  :D

it is funny. and he deserves credit for finding it. so do one softmint  :D

Actually, I deserve no credit whatsoever. I can't recall exactly how I stumbled across it now, but I just remember creasing with laughter when sonic threw his toys out of the pram when he suddenly realised I wasn't the originator......that counts as an error of judgement on my part though.....i blame spacey for rumbling me   :mrgreen:

i've never thrown my toys out of the pram

You did, by changing my title. I think it went through about 4 or 5 iterations that day.....not that it matters anyway.....whoever wrote that is a genius.

rubbish. changing people's titles is the only purpose of my existence on the TEF.

About time it changed again then. Been the same since September 2006..... :wink: Get on with it, you lazy bum.....

You have to earn title changes. Why do people always think they deserve them?

I laughed so loud at that, maybe cos im sat having a shit at the same time! Good work

tinternet shits are the best.

Don't drop your laptop down the bog!

Probably would Sussex, anything that can go wrong would with me and these stupid laptops