Messing yourself....
Discussion
Lemming Train said:
Having done something similar involving diesel (auto cut-off on a truck diesel pump didn't cut off) I am very surprised that it 'only' took "3-4 showers" to get rid of the smell. I could still smell remnants of it weeks later after many many washes. It also burns like fk once it's been in contact with your skin for more than 5 mins. You're right about any material or fabric it gets on is only fit for the bin though.
In fairness, I spent about an hour in the shower each time scrubbing like a man possessed lolNosebleed. The trickle started so I rushed to the work bogs pinching my nose, opened a cubicle and took a seat.
After a minute I took my hand away to bring forth a mini deluge of blood all over the crotch of my beige chinos.
I had to explain to the boss that it wasn’t a bizarre toilet incident but have to leave and catch the tube home.
FML
After a minute I took my hand away to bring forth a mini deluge of blood all over the crotch of my beige chinos.
I had to explain to the boss that it wasn’t a bizarre toilet incident but have to leave and catch the tube home.
FML
I seem to have an inability to eat or drink anything without spilling it down my shirt unless I am sitting at a table with a knife and fork. Worst was when I went to Five Guys prior to a night out, first bite saw the contents of my burger come out the other side and roll down my shirt like a slinky. Fortunately Debenhams was still open so I could replace my shirt.
Costa Latte, in the car! Stopped at the lights and grabbed a quick sip, panicked when the lights changed and squashed the cup. All over my shirt, lap, feet, gear stick, seat. Only about half of it escaped but it felt and looked like a lot more.
The only saving grace was that I was heading home. I now have my own solid (plastic and bamboo apparently) takeaway cup with a screw on top.
The only saving grace was that I was heading home. I now have my own solid (plastic and bamboo apparently) takeaway cup with a screw on top.
Heading to Gleneagles to play golf for the first time with 3 mates. Heading down in one car, me wearing my best golf trousers and polo shirt. Stopped at Ballinluig greasy spoon and ordered food. I went for a fried egg and bacon roll, it duly arrived and I clarted it in Tomato sauce being the philistine that I am. I picked it up raising it to my mouth and squeezed it gently sending exploding hot runny yoke all over my front.
Arrived at Gleneagles and had to go straight to the pro-shop for a new shirt. An expensive day out.
Arrived at Gleneagles and had to go straight to the pro-shop for a new shirt. An expensive day out.
Nanook said:
Biggles delivers the goods said:
Last week was at the pub for lunch and managed to upend a pot of béarnaise on my red chinos. Sat in the office all afternoon with butter and paragon on my crotch.
I wish you didn't mean tarragon.The concept of sitting in the office with greased up absolute perfection on your crotch is a much more interesting one.
Had the lid of a Burger King coke come off & explode all over me in the car...worse was that it was the wife that had lifted the cup & given it a squeeze too hard, but *I* got it
I went up to a colleague for a chat just as he was undoing a bottle of blackcurrant juice. When we finished talking he picked up the bottle and shook it hard, forgetting he had just loosened the top. It went everywhere, one of the funniest things I've ever seen. Big pink spots and blotches all over his white shirt and he happened to be in the boss's bad books at the time so he wouldn't let him go home to change
Roofless Toothless said:
Wait until you've got a baby - they'll happily spew all over your shoulder and down your back at the most auspicious moments.
Not my baby (Rod Stewart impression over) but was over 3 hours late for work one day. On the way to London Bridge, between Clapham jct and LB, someone else’s baby threw up over my crotch.Had to get off at LB, go back to Horley wet and stinking of baby puke, drive home, clean up and don a fresh suit, drive back to the station and go back again.
If you are ever 3+ hours late for work via public transport, you now have a ready made excuse that not many would dream up as a lie to cover a duvet morning.
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