Patch

"I bet you won't"
"Really? I bet I will!"

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Two friends and I were in the woods, as usual shooting bunnies for the local farmer. It was a cold winter's day, we were togged up far too warm, and our stomachs turned against us (as can happen in that Hot-inside / cold-outside kind of way.)

The other two had already relieved themselves, reporting dangerous bowel-escape velocity... and I was furiously waddling on the spot - buttocks clenched - trying to pretend that my **** wasn't about to explode.

Where to crap? Our eyes rose skywards.

In our woods there were various funky trees, but one was known as "the climbing tree". This name was well earned as it had regular and sturdy branches that any 11 year-old can climb with his/her eyes closed. One side of the trunk was bare, giving a fantastic view from a great height.

"I bet you won't climb that and poo from the top"

5 minutes later, trousers round my ankles and a good 40-something feet off the ground, I was ready to let the pressure go... My mates had retired to a "safe distance" and by Christ I let rip.

With a sound of tearing sail-cloth, mixed with a baked-bean splatter-noise my bowels were evacuated. After the final sputtering squits were squeezed out, my friends and I were in fits of giggles - leaving me fighting for balance. The relief was marred only by 2 things:

I had negated to take any bog-roll with me.. and as I stood on the branch below begrudgingly hoiking my trollies up, I realised that my footing was worryingly slippery.. and then the final point dawned: my climb down was now dripping in steamy semi-liquid ****.
40 feet of crap-encrusted branches.

I had painted myself into the corner in the worst way imaginable.

Half way down the climb amid shrieks of laughter from my companions - tears of frustration streaming down my face - (And sh1t dripping on my head from the branches above), I finally slipped; tumbling from branch to branch like a sodden sh1t-drenched pinball.

The walk home was thankfully short, with no encounters.

I still salute my father who greeted me in the garden. He'd seen me - bloody lipped with a limp making my way across the lawn - and worried, he ran out. The look on his face asked it all, but he kept his lip buttoned.

"I had an accident dad"

He gave me a look that any father would give his ****-encrusted air-rifle-toting 13 year-old and went into the house, emerging 2 seconds later with a bucket or warm soapy water and a massive'n fluffy Dad-sized dressing gown.

"C'mon.. lets get you cleaned up... *sponge - dab - sponge*.... So, did you get any Rabbits?"

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kyrocera

Brilliant, Just what is needed on a friday morning...

Superb!

More jokes on friday's please!

Conrad

reminds me of the time when i went on holiday to greece with two of my mates and i fell out with one of them...he shat in my shoe...the bastard. Understandably i was a bit ****ed off...i just forked out a few few bob for those new sneakers....so i was getting worked up and vowed to knock his block off, when my other mate came in and calmed me down...assured me that he would settle this and that all would be well. So i thought, ok, ill le mr sensible sort this, its probably the best thing to do in the situation...turns out that he didnt resolve it using an oucne of pragmatism what so ever!...instead he just took a dump on the other chap when he slept. Great..the atmosphere in that apartment wasnt too good the next working. Mate woke up..went mad...theres **** flying all over the shop..literaly a massive **** fest..then the maid walks in..jesus...never been so embarrased. Thank god we left that day...otherwise im pretty sure the maid would have shat in my bed for making such a bloody mess. At least i can laugh at it now...sort of.

Patch

Another little story i found on t'interweb!

When I was a little sproglet, we had a lovely lump of a Great Dane that was about twice my height. Beautiful, lovely, friendly, soft, gentle creature. Unfortunately he had an inherited stomach problem - basically it meant that things would fly through him, and he had an absolutely enormous appetite, which lead to a propensity to eat whatever he could find. To this day, I sleep in late - purely because as a child you never wanted to be the first one up because of the sheer mountains of dog dump that would confront you downstairs.

Memorable passages include:

1. The entire 4kg tub of margarine he snaffled. This greased him through, and for days was fixed in a squat, ejecting a never-ending stream of sh1t gravy.

2. When I couldn't find my favourite pair of yellow socks. My mum swore she'd washed them and they were in the clean laundry basket. Three days later I found them, still neatly folded - and in the middle of a gently steaming pile of dog's egg.

But, by far the most memorable:
3. When he managed to nick the remains of a sunday roast. Unfortunately, the bits of elasticated string from the roast were still on the plate. A day or so later, he was wandering around the house with about 6 inches of the elastic hanging out of his bumhole. My dad decides to help out, and grabs the end to tug it out. It's well wedged up the gut, so my dad pulls hard. The end of the greasy elastic slips out of his fingers, and the whole thing snaps back at the hound's ringpiece. I have never, ever, seen an animal move so fast or yelp so loud. He didn't come back for hours, and wouldn't go near my dad for weeks.

leeston

brilliant - livens up friday morning for sure!

megatron

Me and my mates used to sh1t out of trees at that age. Fantastic laugh - apart from one time when a log hit a branch on teh way down and most of us ended up getting hit with poo shrapnel.

dangerous but fun