Men Gruntin while in the mens room
Discussion
jjones said:
Was going to visit a friend in Switzerland with the wife and another friend. We had an early flight so me and my mate went to the pub and had a skinful (i had failed to tell him we had to be up at 4am). The trip to the airport was uneventful until we got to the departure lounge. We had made excellent time and were the first to arrive at the gate. We sat next to the empty stewardesses terminal on a set of metal seats similar to:
after a few guffs the wife went and sat on the next row of seats. So it was now just me, an empty seat and then my still slightly drunk friend. At this point the next person arrives in the lounge and sits on the same bank of seats as us but facing in the opposite direction, directly between my friend and I. My guts started to cramp and the fart could not be held, I managed to stiffle most of the noise but the vibrations through the metal seat were unstoppable. My friend felt this 3 to 4 second rasp through the metal work and started to chuckle, which made the metal seats wobble about even more, which set me laughing which made it even worse. By now the seats were rocking about as the tears of laughter rolled down our faces. Our fellow passenger got up and moved to another row of seats, queue more giggling like school kids.
Nothing like a bit of reverb! after a few guffs the wife went and sat on the next row of seats. So it was now just me, an empty seat and then my still slightly drunk friend. At this point the next person arrives in the lounge and sits on the same bank of seats as us but facing in the opposite direction, directly between my friend and I. My guts started to cramp and the fart could not be held, I managed to stiffle most of the noise but the vibrations through the metal seat were unstoppable. My friend felt this 3 to 4 second rasp through the metal work and started to chuckle, which made the metal seats wobble about even more, which set me laughing which made it even worse. By now the seats were rocking about as the tears of laughter rolled down our faces. Our fellow passenger got up and moved to another row of seats, queue more giggling like school kids.
Edited by jjones on Tuesday 17th August 00:47
Toilet doors must have gaps at the bottom for this to work.
walk in to a toilet with a pair of boots in your hand. Start to go FFF nn Crazy shouting and banging etc , then with a little 'reality" leave boots with toes just showing under door so it looks like Crazy man is stood outside. Hang tampax etc with fake blood on door so blood is dripping onto floor around boots
We had one guy stay in the cubicle for 40 mins . when he came out he was shaking with fear.
Could cause a fart or two ? !
walk in to a toilet with a pair of boots in your hand. Start to go FFF nn Crazy shouting and banging etc , then with a little 'reality" leave boots with toes just showing under door so it looks like Crazy man is stood outside. Hang tampax etc with fake blood on door so blood is dripping onto floor around boots
We had one guy stay in the cubicle for 40 mins . when he came out he was shaking with fear.
Could cause a fart or two ? !
Kindersley said:
Toilet doors must have gaps at the bottom for this to work.
walk in to a toilet with a pair of boots in your hand. Start to go FFF nn Crazy shouting and banging etc , then with a little 'reality" leave boots with toes just showing under door so it looks like Crazy man is stood outside. Hang tampax etc with fake blood on door so blood is dripping onto floor around boots
We had one guy stay in the cubicle for 40 mins . when he came out he was shaking with fear.
Could cause a fart or two ? !
walk in to a toilet with a pair of boots in your hand. Start to go FFF nn Crazy shouting and banging etc , then with a little 'reality" leave boots with toes just showing under door so it looks like Crazy man is stood outside. Hang tampax etc with fake blood on door so blood is dripping onto floor around boots
We had one guy stay in the cubicle for 40 mins . when he came out he was shaking with fear.
Could cause a fart or two ? !
Toilet doors must have gaps at the bottom for this to work.
walk in to a toilet with a pair of boots in your hand. Start to go FFF nn Crazy shouting and banging etc , then with a little 'reality" leave boots with toes just showing under door so it looks like Crazy man is stood outside. Hang tampax etc with fake blood on door so blood is dripping onto floor around boots
We had one guy stay in the cubicle for 40 mins . when he came out he was shaking with fear.
Could cause a fart or two ? !
walk in to a toilet with a pair of boots in your hand. Start to go FFF nn Crazy shouting and banging etc , then with a little 'reality" leave boots with toes just showing under door so it looks like Crazy man is stood outside. Hang tampax etc with fake blood on door so blood is dripping onto floor around boots
We had one guy stay in the cubicle for 40 mins . when he came out he was shaking with fear.
Could cause a fart or two ? !
Vidal Baboon said:
I tried as hard as I could to let the brakes off gently, but my efforts were thwarted by a nugget which had lodged itself in my marmite motorway. I let off the pressure a little when the nugget popped out. A little wet fart noise before I reapplied the brakes. Well I think I had the rectal equivalent of brake fade because nothing could stop this freight train. I finally gave in to my bodily needs when all hell broke lose- wind, splattering, running water noises nothing I could do to stop it, I was just a reluctant passenger.
Ah the infamous nugget "pace car"! Once that's out of the way all the turo-charged nutters behind are off and there's no stopping them! 
My little tale of woe.
2002 returning from a three week stint of ski instructing - well three weeks of drinking the fizziest lager known to man and surviving on a diet of huge slabs of meat and various forms of potato.
Driving our normal route home we stop at the Capelan services at Luxembourg. On route we had topped up our healthy diet with the biggest Burger King offering available in Germany and a massive pot of coffee.
By Luxembourg I am sat doubled up in the car whimpering in pain, and despite the minus twenty on the car thermometer the others in the car have the windows wide open as it appears 'I stink like something that you'd find in a drain under the worst slaughter-house in Bradford'.
We pull into the services and I'd like to report that I sprang from the car and ran to the amenities.
What actually happened was I attempted to stand up and was folded in half by a crippling explosion. Fearing the repercussions of straightening fully, I shuffled sideways into the service station like Gollum searching for his ring, pushing through groups of coach party children hearing cries of anguish at the vapour trail of death left in my wake.
I often wonder where my 'friends' had got to at this point. They assure me they stood back and watched with glee.
I made the gents - sign on the door - closed for repairs, please use the ladies. Nooooooooooooooooooooooo.
I make my way into the ladies where I am met by a queue, which I resolutely ignore. As a trap is vacated I push past the ladies of assorted ages and two guys waiting and start to undo my belt as the door closes. I hear muttered indignation from behind me, people pointing out that there is a queue you know, references to bloody foreigners (the place was full of UK coaches heading back after Feb half term) and general disapproval.
As I sat down with these comments still being passed around in the queue, the build up of barely digestible food issued forth with very force of Hades behind it.
The sound was akin to a wet mattress being dragged across a corrugated roof followed by a splattering expulsion diarrhoea that was three parts toxic waste/one part Velcro. Devastation ensued in the porcelain chamber.
As I slumped forward the smell hit me. Only two things I have encountered were worse. One of those was a 12 week dead corpse that had liquefied the other was a Durian fruit.
I notice that not a single sound is coming from the waiting area and no noise is coming from any of the other cubicles. The only sound is a soft dripping and after shocks gradually abating.
Then it was said.
'Jesus Christ, what the hell was that'
Mortified I got cleaned up, did my best with the toilet and gathering as much decorum as I could managed, exited the cubicle. This was not a time to linger!
The remaining 'crowd' were in silence, mouths agape, two held sleeves across their faces shielding their noses.
Straightening up I proceeded to the wash basin and announced 'Terribly sorry, I wasn't feeling too well'
Not one of the women looked directly at me. One of the guys was smirking the other just slowly shook his head.
2002 returning from a three week stint of ski instructing - well three weeks of drinking the fizziest lager known to man and surviving on a diet of huge slabs of meat and various forms of potato.
Driving our normal route home we stop at the Capelan services at Luxembourg. On route we had topped up our healthy diet with the biggest Burger King offering available in Germany and a massive pot of coffee.
By Luxembourg I am sat doubled up in the car whimpering in pain, and despite the minus twenty on the car thermometer the others in the car have the windows wide open as it appears 'I stink like something that you'd find in a drain under the worst slaughter-house in Bradford'.
We pull into the services and I'd like to report that I sprang from the car and ran to the amenities.
What actually happened was I attempted to stand up and was folded in half by a crippling explosion. Fearing the repercussions of straightening fully, I shuffled sideways into the service station like Gollum searching for his ring, pushing through groups of coach party children hearing cries of anguish at the vapour trail of death left in my wake.
I often wonder where my 'friends' had got to at this point. They assure me they stood back and watched with glee.
I made the gents - sign on the door - closed for repairs, please use the ladies. Nooooooooooooooooooooooo.
I make my way into the ladies where I am met by a queue, which I resolutely ignore. As a trap is vacated I push past the ladies of assorted ages and two guys waiting and start to undo my belt as the door closes. I hear muttered indignation from behind me, people pointing out that there is a queue you know, references to bloody foreigners (the place was full of UK coaches heading back after Feb half term) and general disapproval.
As I sat down with these comments still being passed around in the queue, the build up of barely digestible food issued forth with very force of Hades behind it.
The sound was akin to a wet mattress being dragged across a corrugated roof followed by a splattering expulsion diarrhoea that was three parts toxic waste/one part Velcro. Devastation ensued in the porcelain chamber.
As I slumped forward the smell hit me. Only two things I have encountered were worse. One of those was a 12 week dead corpse that had liquefied the other was a Durian fruit.
I notice that not a single sound is coming from the waiting area and no noise is coming from any of the other cubicles. The only sound is a soft dripping and after shocks gradually abating.
Then it was said.
'Jesus Christ, what the hell was that'
Mortified I got cleaned up, did my best with the toilet and gathering as much decorum as I could managed, exited the cubicle. This was not a time to linger!
The remaining 'crowd' were in silence, mouths agape, two held sleeves across their faces shielding their noses.
Straightening up I proceeded to the wash basin and announced 'Terribly sorry, I wasn't feeling too well'
Not one of the women looked directly at me. One of the guys was smirking the other just slowly shook his head.
Edited by davemac250 on Wednesday 18th August 10:53
ajcj said:
To begin with, it sounded like a duck being strangled half-underwater, then as if thirty clowns wearing oversize rubber shoes were having a sprinting race over a massive bowl of jelly, then as I desperately applied restrictive pressure, it faded into an anguished squeak like a deflating balloon, then as my muscle control gave out, a series of small escaping explosions escalated into a titanic rasp that echoed for several seconds.
ToyotaJim said:
The sound - like a Donald Duck impressionist's convention, reverberates around the bathroom.
davemac250 said:
The sound was akin to a wet mattress being dragged across a corrugated roof followed by a splattering expulsion diarrhoea that was three parts toxic waste/one part Velcro.
x 1,000,000Seriously, best thread ever, i'm crying with laughter at all these!!!
I've read AJs story and superb.
I feel I have to add my tale of woe. Please bear in mind that I was extremely ill with this.
When I was younger I had guts of steel, I could eat any sort of food without repercussions and i was actually quite proud of it. Night on the underage booze or a face burning curry and next morning I would fine. That was until I had just turned 17, this fateful day would change my life forever.
Have you ever had cryptosporidium? I have and let me tell you, it isn't any fun. I caught it as I was unknowingly fishing downstream from a tip, you catch it from Rats piss and being a fly fisherman, I bite the hooks off my line hence I got rat piss in my mouth, nice.
Now this cryptosporidium thing I speak of, it's not like when you have diarrhea, or even a bad case of diarrhea, when you have those, you have time to think, like, "oh I'll just finish reading this line before I go" or "I'll just finish watching this". It is literally, I need the toilet, i must go NOW, this instant, right now or you will be late.
Also the symptoms aren't the same, you don't have ANY solid inside of you, it's like pissing out of your arse.
Now I lived in a small village and I decided to got to the doctors practice in the village this one fine hot summers Tuesday morning, the birds were singing and the sun was blazing, all was well apart from the nano-bots working their magic in my lower Colon with there electric whisks.
I left the house, locked the door and was about half way to the village hall where they held the practice, when suddenly, out of nowhere I get a knock on my rectum, now what do I do? it's 300m back home or 300m to the hall. f
k it, lets go, so I start to do one of those runs, you know the ones where your thighs don't move but you have to widen the lower legs to the side and scurry.
I couldn't hold it any longer the pain was unreal and water is quite hard to retain, I had tears in my eyes at the thought of what was going to happen and the pain trying to pinch my cheeks shut with my hands. I managed 50m maximum and I gave in, I crumbled into a heap on the floor as I felt the torrent rushing down my legs, no noise, just a faint shhhhhht, the silent assassin.
To say I was devastated was a big understatement, I was the newish kid in the village and a bit of a fanny magnet at the time and yet there I was, lying at the side of the road covered from waist to foot in brown smelly water. I had just turned inside out and felt empty.
I gathered myself up and walked the remaining distance to the village hall as I desperately needed to see the doctor and quickly counted how many people were in, 5. Right ok, I peeled off to the toilets out of sight of everyone and cleaned myself up as best I could and just sat and waited as I knew I stank. I counted the 5 leave then went through to see the doctor, it was a bloody 'she', great!!!
ETA Sorry for the long post
superb.I feel I have to add my tale of woe. Please bear in mind that I was extremely ill with this.
When I was younger I had guts of steel, I could eat any sort of food without repercussions and i was actually quite proud of it. Night on the underage booze or a face burning curry and next morning I would fine. That was until I had just turned 17, this fateful day would change my life forever.
Have you ever had cryptosporidium? I have and let me tell you, it isn't any fun. I caught it as I was unknowingly fishing downstream from a tip, you catch it from Rats piss and being a fly fisherman, I bite the hooks off my line hence I got rat piss in my mouth, nice.
Now this cryptosporidium thing I speak of, it's not like when you have diarrhea, or even a bad case of diarrhea, when you have those, you have time to think, like, "oh I'll just finish reading this line before I go" or "I'll just finish watching this". It is literally, I need the toilet, i must go NOW, this instant, right now or you will be late.
Also the symptoms aren't the same, you don't have ANY solid inside of you, it's like pissing out of your arse.
Now I lived in a small village and I decided to got to the doctors practice in the village this one fine hot summers Tuesday morning, the birds were singing and the sun was blazing, all was well apart from the nano-bots working their magic in my lower Colon with there electric whisks.
I left the house, locked the door and was about half way to the village hall where they held the practice, when suddenly, out of nowhere I get a knock on my rectum, now what do I do? it's 300m back home or 300m to the hall. f
k it, lets go, so I start to do one of those runs, you know the ones where your thighs don't move but you have to widen the lower legs to the side and scurry.I couldn't hold it any longer the pain was unreal and water is quite hard to retain, I had tears in my eyes at the thought of what was going to happen and the pain trying to pinch my cheeks shut with my hands. I managed 50m maximum and I gave in, I crumbled into a heap on the floor as I felt the torrent rushing down my legs, no noise, just a faint shhhhhht, the silent assassin.
To say I was devastated was a big understatement, I was the newish kid in the village and a bit of a fanny magnet at the time and yet there I was, lying at the side of the road covered from waist to foot in brown smelly water. I had just turned inside out and felt empty.
I gathered myself up and walked the remaining distance to the village hall as I desperately needed to see the doctor and quickly counted how many people were in, 5. Right ok, I peeled off to the toilets out of sight of everyone and cleaned myself up as best I could and just sat and waited as I knew I stank. I counted the 5 leave then went through to see the doctor, it was a bloody 'she', great!!!
ETA Sorry for the long post
Edited by WorAl on Wednesday 18th August 11:57
Seeing as fello PH'ers are regailing you with tales of the utmost disgust i thought i'd bring my embarrassment to the attention of others.
It was the end of the week, i'd just left work & me, the gf & 6 other mates 3 guys & 3 girls were all going to Alton Towers Scare Fest.
We were leaving at 4 in the morning as it was approximately a 5 hour journey.
However, i had to work the Friday evening in a nightclub, no problem i thought, i'll finish @ 2am, drink some Redbulls, stay awake until my friend picks us up @ 4 then sleep in the car on the way up.
So i start necking Redbulls, i grab a what can only be desribed as a dirt burger of death from the local kebab shop on the way back to the car, now as i'm many of you are aware what kebab shop food tastes like when your sober, i'll just leave it there, the only way to describe it would be eating a piece of corrugated cardboard that tases of charcoal.
So 4am comes, i'm suprisingly awake, i grab a coffee, jump in the car with my mate, the girl he's putting "ground work" in on & my oh.
I fall asleep straight away.
We stop 90 minutes later for a Mcdonalds brekkie.
I think at this point considering how tired i'm feeling, the slight disturbances i'm already having in my colon & the thought of a Mcdonalds breakfast begin to put me off a touch.
fk it i think - it's the only kind of "holiday" i'm having this year i'm going to do what i like, i promptly order a large coffee, d/bacon & egg muffin & a porridge.
Now i was warned by 2 of my friends who'd previously worked @ Mcdonalds Pre-Uni not to eat the Porridge, i was also laughed @ by my friend who said don't eat that it looks like seagull st & paper mache (sp).
fk it - it'll be fine.
Oh how i wish i'd listened to them looking back, but as they say hindsights a great thing.
We all pile back into the 2 cars & leave the service station, after about 10mintes of being back in the car, my lower intestine decides to let out a small oderous mating call, to all other females present in the car, apparently, women really don't like the smell of half digested burgers, coffee, redbull & whatever other morsels of putrid goodness which were in my stomach.
My friend however thinks it's brilliant, we begin to have a mini "fart-war" trading stenches & sounds with each other, him driving, me sat in the rear passengers seat, the girls heads are now hanging out the window like a boxer dog's on a dual carrageway, trying to escape the sespit smelling car.
I feel a deep burbling in my stomach, this i think is going to be the king of farts & will end the war, nobody will trounce this, i let out an absolute ripper, it sounds wet, it stinks, phew i hav'nt st my pants, then comes the after shock, a little wimper, followed by a warm, actually hot sensation in my boxers, holy st, i've followed through, i beg my mate to stop, who by now is trying not to be sick & laugh at the same time, i beg him to stop, the next service station is 15miles away, he won't stop until the services.
Great, the girl in the front begins to phone the other car, they laugh at me, my friend posts it on Facebook, great.
We get to the next service station, i try as hard as i can to look inconspicuous, this is however quite difficult as there is a big wet patch in my pants now, i get to the toilets, i think right i'm going to have to leave my pants behind, there's too much mess, i dive into a cubicle & let rip the entire contents of my bowels, i then have to try and get my stty boxers off without covering myself, legs & hands in runny porridge.
The cleaner who's cleaning the toilets gives me a disgusted look whilst clenching his hand over his face & nose trying not to choke on the smell, he looks at my soiled boxers i'm holding in my hand, i deposit them in the bin & run for the car.
Phew i thought it's over.
Until i realise my trousers are also wet from the st.
I then had the shame of having to beg my friend in front of all our other friends to borrow his spare pair of jeans he had in his car.
Never again am i eating Mcdonalds Porridge.
It was the end of the week, i'd just left work & me, the gf & 6 other mates 3 guys & 3 girls were all going to Alton Towers Scare Fest.
We were leaving at 4 in the morning as it was approximately a 5 hour journey.
However, i had to work the Friday evening in a nightclub, no problem i thought, i'll finish @ 2am, drink some Redbulls, stay awake until my friend picks us up @ 4 then sleep in the car on the way up.
So i start necking Redbulls, i grab a what can only be desribed as a dirt burger of death from the local kebab shop on the way back to the car, now as i'm many of you are aware what kebab shop food tastes like when your sober, i'll just leave it there, the only way to describe it would be eating a piece of corrugated cardboard that tases of charcoal.
So 4am comes, i'm suprisingly awake, i grab a coffee, jump in the car with my mate, the girl he's putting "ground work" in on & my oh.
I fall asleep straight away.
We stop 90 minutes later for a Mcdonalds brekkie.
I think at this point considering how tired i'm feeling, the slight disturbances i'm already having in my colon & the thought of a Mcdonalds breakfast begin to put me off a touch.
f
k it i think - it's the only kind of "holiday" i'm having this year i'm going to do what i like, i promptly order a large coffee, d/bacon & egg muffin & a porridge.Now i was warned by 2 of my friends who'd previously worked @ Mcdonalds Pre-Uni not to eat the Porridge, i was also laughed @ by my friend who said don't eat that it looks like seagull s
t & paper mache (sp).f
k it - it'll be fine.Oh how i wish i'd listened to them looking back, but as they say hindsights a great thing.
We all pile back into the 2 cars & leave the service station, after about 10mintes of being back in the car, my lower intestine decides to let out a small oderous mating call, to all other females present in the car, apparently, women really don't like the smell of half digested burgers, coffee, redbull & whatever other morsels of putrid goodness which were in my stomach.
My friend however thinks it's brilliant, we begin to have a mini "fart-war" trading stenches & sounds with each other, him driving, me sat in the rear passengers seat, the girls heads are now hanging out the window like a boxer dog's on a dual carrageway, trying to escape the sespit smelling car.
I feel a deep burbling in my stomach, this i think is going to be the king of farts & will end the war, nobody will trounce this, i let out an absolute ripper, it sounds wet, it stinks, phew i hav'nt s
t my pants, then comes the after shock, a little wimper, followed by a warm, actually hot sensation in my boxers, holy st, i've followed through, i beg my mate to stop, who by now is trying not to be sick & laugh at the same time, i beg him to stop, the next service station is 15miles away, he won't stop until the services.Great, the girl in the front begins to phone the other car, they laugh at me, my friend posts it on Facebook, great.
We get to the next service station, i try as hard as i can to look inconspicuous, this is however quite difficult as there is a big wet patch in my pants now, i get to the toilets, i think right i'm going to have to leave my pants behind, there's too much mess, i dive into a cubicle & let rip the entire contents of my bowels, i then have to try and get my s
tty boxers off without covering myself, legs & hands in runny porridge.The cleaner who's cleaning the toilets gives me a disgusted look whilst clenching his hand over his face & nose trying not to choke on the smell, he looks at my soiled boxers i'm holding in my hand, i deposit them in the bin & run for the car.
Phew i thought it's over.
Until i realise my trousers are also wet from the s
t.I then had the shame of having to beg my friend in front of all our other friends to borrow his spare pair of jeans he had in his car.
Never again am i eating Mcdonalds Porridge.
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