Men, Public toilets & loosing all control
Discussion
Ian Lancs said:
Otispunkmeyer said:
It's dank, but it is a blast in there when you're drunk (well when you're a student, bit too old for it now). Its a proper scum hole, but its the only constant in Loughborough...literally everything else has closed, re-opened, been renamed or gone altogether and yet mention Echos and seemingly even the eldest Alumni know what you're on about. I reckon with that place they simply lock up on a saturday night and don't bother opening it again till the next weekend. f
k cleaning it.
Always played great tunes though, a lot of late 80's, early-mid 90's dance crap. Easy to jump about to.
Is Crystals still there (or am I showing my age and its not been called that since 90s)? Don't remember Echo's bogs - don't really remember echos though :Pk cleaning it. Always played great tunes though, a lot of late 80's, early-mid 90's dance crap. Easy to jump about to.
In 2001/2002 they added an extra room to the back of echos which was a bit less sweaty. Used to have a mate who worked the bar and hardly ever paid for drinks... but then it was always 3 bottles for the price of one or some deal there... good times.
Discoteca was the ropey local club! Used to put on hardcore nights.
Glade said:
Ian Lancs said:
Otispunkmeyer said:
It's dank, but it is a blast in there when you're drunk (well when you're a student, bit too old for it now). Its a proper scum hole, but its the only constant in Loughborough...literally everything else has closed, re-opened, been renamed or gone altogether and yet mention Echos and seemingly even the eldest Alumni know what you're on about. I reckon with that place they simply lock up on a saturday night and don't bother opening it again till the next weekend. fk cleaning it.
Always played great tunes though, a lot of late 80's, early-mid 90's dance crap. Easy to jump about to.
Is Crystals still there (or am I showing my age and its not been called that since 90s)? Don't remember Echo's bogs - don't really remember echos though :Pk cleaning it. Always played great tunes though, a lot of late 80's, early-mid 90's dance crap. Easy to jump about to.
In 2001/2002 they added an extra room to the back of echos which was a bit less sweaty. Used to have a mate who worked the bar and hardly ever paid for drinks... but then it was always 3 bottles for the price of one or some deal there... good times.
Discoteca was the ropey local club! Used to put on hardcore nights.
This seems like an appropriate place to post this instructional poster I saw in a works toilet last week
Many years ago when I was driving for a living I got the 5 minute warning , spotted a service station 3 minutes to go , walked in , couldn't see a toilet , asked the girl behind the counter, no public toilet and a look that said you can fk right off if you think you're stting in mine
Back in the cab , spotted a supermarket , parked , by this time I was a good 5 minutes past the deadline, really bad stomach cramps and due to lack of parking near the store a long walk
I stepped out of the cab, that's one small step for a man, one giant leap for thraaaaappppp
Oh fk me , so I had to do the John Wayne walk of shame to the store then to my utter dismay I saw the toilets sign right at the other end of the shop past 20 busy tills , the walk of shame carried on with people behind sniffing the air as I passed
Made it to the toilet and cleaned myself as best I could, binned my pants, went back in the shop and bought clean jeans , pants and a big pack of baby wipes, which blocked the bog up
Not my finest hour
Many years ago when I was driving for a living I got the 5 minute warning , spotted a service station 3 minutes to go , walked in , couldn't see a toilet , asked the girl behind the counter, no public toilet and a look that said you can f
k right off if you think you're stting in mine Back in the cab , spotted a supermarket , parked , by this time I was a good 5 minutes past the deadline, really bad stomach cramps and due to lack of parking near the store a long walk
I stepped out of the cab, that's one small step for a man, one giant leap for thraaaaappppp
Oh f
k me , so I had to do the John Wayne walk of shame to the store then to my utter dismay I saw the toilets sign right at the other end of the shop past 20 busy tills , the walk of shame carried on with people behind sniffing the air as I passedMade it to the toilet and cleaned myself as best I could, binned my pants, went back in the shop and bought clean jeans , pants and a big pack of baby wipes, which blocked the bog up
Not my finest hour
Edited by wack on Thursday 7th September 20:35
My previous job had a top floor which was just used for storage, but apparently the water had been turned off up there. I only found this out when we were all called into a meeting with an angry manager demanding to know who kept taking a dump in the water-free toilets. The manager's tactic of trying to guilt-trip the perpetrator with describing how the cleaner had to remove it with his bare hands didn't exactly have the desired effect.
Lance Catamaran said:
My previous job had a top floor which was just used for storage, but apparently the water had been turned off up there. I only found this out when we were all called into a meeting with an angry manager demanding to know who kept taking a dump in the water-free toilets. The manager's tactic of trying to guilt-trip the perpetrator with describing how the cleaner had to remove it with his bare hands didn't exactly have the desired effect.
Reminds me of when I went into B&Q a while ago and there was a log in one of the show toilets (obviously not plumbed in). It was just sat there stuck to the bowl. Very odd.Having laughed my way through the latest additions this morning, I remembered about a toilet incident I had a while back in my early 20s. Albeit not in a public or work setting, I felt the need to share as it was equally embarrassing.
Several years ago I was looking after the parents-in-law household for a few hours as the plumber was due round to repair an as yet untraced leak; they had to pop out so I volunteered my services.
Mr Brown was engaged in the torpedo tube just as they were leaving the house, great timing I thought to myself. As I watched the car disappear up the street and round the corner out of sight, I began my nonchalant walk towards their sparkling facilities.
The act itself was relatively uneventful; probably a type 2 or 3 on the Bristol Stool Chart for those familiar thus requiring limited paperwork - just one or two sides with the obligatory oral check and confirmation.
I stand up, return my pants and jeans to their normal operating position, tighten my belt before turning round to view my production as one does before sending him on his way. Relatively chuffed with my now empty colon, I reach for the flush handle to bring this to a conclusion. The flush is however not functioning as the water supply had been turned off - I had been warned not to use the toilet.
A frenzied couple of seconds ensued whereby what seemed like several hundred manic flush attempts were made. That horrendous dull noise of an empty cistern each time, my heart rate increasing with each.
I began to think of solutions. I remembered the family had been drinking bottled water whilst the mains was shut off. I collected about half a dozen bottles, although mostly empty, I was confident of success. I emptied the contents of the bottles into the cistern and made my flush attempt. Failure. Hardly wetted the head of my now dissolving bum truffle.
Problem solving head kicking in once again, I remembered the water cooler they had in the fridge. Running downstairs to drain it with excitement. It had little more than half a pint to offer.
I found myself scratching round the various vases of flowers that were proudly displayed throughout of the house. Although offering little in the way of water, I had now managed to collect approximately one pint of fluid. I wasn't going to chance it again with such a marginal amount.
Just as I was running out of ideas, I had an epiphany, I had just refilled the screen wash bottle in my then classic Impreza - a large bottle of several litres. I had drained it recently after it has become smelly over summer so I was familiar with the scope of work ahead, just a couple of screws and hose clips to remove with the FILs tools. It was swiftly removed before running back into the house holding my thumb over lowest hose port.
Taking great care not to spill, I emptied the contents into the cistern, along with my pint of water gathered from elsewhere. I held my breath as I made my next flush attempt. Ahhh. The beautiful noise of full cistern flush, it was a magical moment.
I tidied everything up, reinstated the screen wash bottle and awaited the plumbers arrival. The parents-in-law eventually returned before the plumber but I had plenty time to complete my quest. I kept this one a secret for many years before telling everyone over a few beers. Brings a smile to my face every time I think about it.
Several years ago I was looking after the parents-in-law household for a few hours as the plumber was due round to repair an as yet untraced leak; they had to pop out so I volunteered my services.
Mr Brown was engaged in the torpedo tube just as they were leaving the house, great timing I thought to myself. As I watched the car disappear up the street and round the corner out of sight, I began my nonchalant walk towards their sparkling facilities.
The act itself was relatively uneventful; probably a type 2 or 3 on the Bristol Stool Chart for those familiar thus requiring limited paperwork - just one or two sides with the obligatory oral check and confirmation.
I stand up, return my pants and jeans to their normal operating position, tighten my belt before turning round to view my production as one does before sending him on his way. Relatively chuffed with my now empty colon, I reach for the flush handle to bring this to a conclusion. The flush is however not functioning as the water supply had been turned off - I had been warned not to use the toilet.
A frenzied couple of seconds ensued whereby what seemed like several hundred manic flush attempts were made. That horrendous dull noise of an empty cistern each time, my heart rate increasing with each.
I began to think of solutions. I remembered the family had been drinking bottled water whilst the mains was shut off. I collected about half a dozen bottles, although mostly empty, I was confident of success. I emptied the contents of the bottles into the cistern and made my flush attempt. Failure. Hardly wetted the head of my now dissolving bum truffle.
Problem solving head kicking in once again, I remembered the water cooler they had in the fridge. Running downstairs to drain it with excitement. It had little more than half a pint to offer.
I found myself scratching round the various vases of flowers that were proudly displayed throughout of the house. Although offering little in the way of water, I had now managed to collect approximately one pint of fluid. I wasn't going to chance it again with such a marginal amount.
Just as I was running out of ideas, I had an epiphany, I had just refilled the screen wash bottle in my then classic Impreza - a large bottle of several litres. I had drained it recently after it has become smelly over summer so I was familiar with the scope of work ahead, just a couple of screws and hose clips to remove with the FILs tools. It was swiftly removed before running back into the house holding my thumb over lowest hose port.
Taking great care not to spill, I emptied the contents into the cistern, along with my pint of water gathered from elsewhere. I held my breath as I made my next flush attempt. Ahhh. The beautiful noise of full cistern flush, it was a magical moment.
I tidied everything up, reinstated the screen wash bottle and awaited the plumbers arrival. The parents-in-law eventually returned before the plumber but I had plenty time to complete my quest. I kept this one a secret for many years before telling everyone over a few beers. Brings a smile to my face every time I think about it.
Johnnytheboy said:
MattHall91 said:
Reminds me of when I went into B&Q a while ago and there was a log in one of the show toilets (obviously not plumbed in). It was just sat there stuck to the bowl. Very odd.
Show poo?https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WoW8bbyaXbw
More what happened than a poo fest story
Brands Hatch Boxing day meet 1965 or 1966
After the meeting everyone was shuffling out to the car park, when Dave decides he needs to go he was rather pissed off with the whole day fpr some reason , and those were the first words out of him for at least an hour
The bog blocks were a long block containing both and the entrances were in order of passing Gents out on corner then gents in and ladies out entrances together then ladies in. The distance between the out and in of each section as about 50ft
So Dave mooches up the path and does a slight left deviation going up, so he is heading for the Ladies out.. the fact that there were nothing but females heading towards him didnt register. The crowd by this time had stopped to watch him go in and disappear from view. A few women did turn round in disbelief but said nothing. Four minutes went by and the crowd by now had slowed to snails pace, nobody wanted to miss the grand re entrance
so Dave appeared at the IN the crowd roaring their approval, women passing him on both sides,, still no recognition of what he had down, marched down the path and rejoined us, still silent. and so we got in the car and started the drive home, it must have been about Tower Bridge when he spoke
'What we they all cheering for when i come out the bog?, it.s not like i had my dick hanging out'
So we explained and he said he never noticed. Those were all the words he said until he was dropped off home.
Perhaps funnier to have been there though
Prior to a night out, one of my mates had lent a pair of Armani jeans to another. We headed into town, and proceeded to tour the local hostelries sampling a selection of beverages as we went. As the night wore on, the lad in the borrowed Armanis reached the point of alcoholic oblivion, and spectacularly stsprayed himself well past the gusset of his boxers shorts, whilst standing next to the outraged owner of said jeans.
20+ years later, Adam is still referred to as 'stty jeans' when we we go out for a pint.
tsprayed himself well past the gusset of his boxers shorts, whilst standing next to the outraged owner of said jeans.20+ years later, Adam is still referred to as 's
tty jeans' when we we go out for a pint. 80quattro said:
20+ years later, Adam is still referred to as 'stty jeans' when we we go out for a pint.
As a kid I was in the Scouts and we were on a long weekend adventure thing. As it was lashing it down with rain, we had all been given these huge all-in-one rainsuits - the trousers, jacket and hood all held together by zips and velcro. Not the best looking things, but they were certainly waterproof.tty jeans' when we we go out for a pint. One of our troop needed to answer the cal of nature and went into the bushes with his toilet roll, and found a tree to squat under. A few minutes later there is a bit of a commotion, with him swearing and the sound of velcro and zips being struggled with.Of course we all ran towards the drama to see what had happened, only to find that he was looking quite distraught with a load of s
t stuck to the back of his head and all down his back.When he dropped the rainsuit, he managed to crap in his own hood, and only realised when he pulled it back up again.
To this day he is often greeted with a cheery "A'right s
thead?!" S11Steve said:
80quattro said:
20+ years later, Adam is still referred to as 'stty jeans' when we we go out for a pint.
As a kid I was in the Scouts and we were on a long weekend adventure thing. As it was lashing it down with rain, we had all been given these huge all-in-one rainsuits - the trousers, jacket and hood all held together by zips and velcro. Not the best looking things, but they were certainly waterproof.tty jeans' when we we go out for a pint. One of our troop needed to answer the cal of nature and went into the bushes with his toilet roll, and found a tree to squat under. A few minutes later there is a bit of a commotion, with him swearing and the sound of velcro and zips being struggled with.Of course we all ran towards the drama to see what had happened, only to find that he was looking quite distraught with a load of s
t stuck to the back of his head and all down his back.When he dropped the rainsuit, he managed to crap in his own hood, and only realised when he pulled it back up again.
To this day he is often greeted with a cheery "A'right s
thead?!" devnull said:
Roofless Toothless said:
My wife tells me you ought to see the ladies ...
Mine says the same. - Women too polite to fart discreetly in public let it all go in the toilets
- Women who hover and shower the pan for the next lucky user.
Years ago, I worked in a food processing plant. One day a cleaner complained that someone had sliced one off on the floor.
That was the ladies toilets.
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