For Sale: Foffa Single Speed Custom-built bicycle

I just remembered a tale my old boss told me. His dad was a GP, and a keen rugby fan, and always acted as the doctor on duty at his local rugby ground. It was one of the bigger clubs, saracens or similar.
Anyway there was a really heavy tackle on one player who went down and stayed down. The coaches ran on, then signalled for the doctor. My mates dad went on, then signalled for the ambulance crew. They arrived and stretchered him off. My mates dad accompanied him into the tunnel, and into the dressing rooms.
The tackle was so hard he shit himself.
He showered, cleaned himself up, put on some clean kit, and jogged back on to the pitch.
Nobody in the crowd had any idea, they all thought my mates dad had magic healing powers.

Anyway there was a really heavy tackle on one player who went down and stayed down.

My mates dad accompanied him into the tunnel

The tackle was so hard he shit himself.

Nobody in the crowd had any idea

Now then..

Best puke I've ever seen was courtesy of my mate at uni, we were all at the bar closest to uni (Soar Point) and he was a bit of a crap talker to girls, but tonight the Wiley bastard got lucky, he's letting fly with all the swagger of Freddy Mercury on ketamine and we're all watching the spectacle for some reason.
Midway through one of his sentences, he suddenly looks to the right and lets fly a stream of acidified pisscohol stream from his mouth into the canal next to the bar which hits the water like sheep shit pellets and immediately turns around, expression unchanged and continues from where he left odd mid conversation. Were all gob-smacked at this point and the girl fails to realise that her mouth resembles an open garage and just carried on like nothing happened.

He got laid that night.
Moral, if you're puking, do it in style and you might some one two action.

I remember a guy in my village drinking more than one bottle of thunderbirds before venturing to the local watering hole. Later whilst sat in the pub he started turning a green colour then asked for a pint glass quickly. He vomited to the top of the glass, stopped without spilling any and asked for another (abeit in a panic) and proceeded to do the same. He presented both glassed on the table infront of him and carried on.

People around were both shocked and mystified by the level of self control and two pints of yellowy bile placed infront of him. It wasn't until the landlord came round to collect emptys was there any actual disgust raised.

That man was a legend. His name was John Johnson.

Not so much of a story attached to this one.

One Christmas Eve when I was about 18 I was in a bit of a state after spending the afternoon knocking pints back with my big bro. In a moment of clarity I started to make my way home while he stayed out with mates.

I got to Charing Cross station and although the next half hour or so is very hazy in my mind I do remember blowing a huge amount of chunks into the doorway of tie rack. At about 3pm. When it was still open.

I feel really sorry for whoever had to clean that up. Maybe that Burger King wasn't such a good idea.

Great thread, sponsored by foffa.

In bed asleep last night and all of a sudden i start getting cold sweats and think, wtf is this?

Then followed by painful stomach aches. Really unpleasant

I look at my phone and its 2:30am and I really dont feel normal. Ive eaten nothing that would have given me food poisoning

I logically then decide that I have appendicitis and im freaking out, how do i get to the hospital at this time of night? ive never had an operation. I was scared.

My stomach then winces again and i hear a god awful noise coming from it.

I decide to go to the loo. Cow pat shit for a good 20 minutes and then i feel better.

go back to bed, the end.

meant to go for a ride now but i dont want to get caught short

Got this tip sent to me by my brother, it's a review of hair removal cream from amazon. Bet you've already seen it. Not strictly a shit story but has lots of anally related content:

After having been told my danglies looked like an elderly rastafarian I decided to take the plunge and buy some of this as previous shaving attempts had only been mildly succesful and I nearly put my back out trying to reach the more difficult bits. Being a bit of a romantic I thought I would do the deed on the missus's birthday as a bit of a treat.
I ordered it well in advance and working in the North sea I considerd myself a bit above some of the characters writing the previous reviews and wrote them off as soft office types...oh my fellow sufferers how wrong I was. I waited until the other half was tucked up in bed and after giving some vague hints about a special surprise I went down to the bathroom. Initially all went well and I applied the gel and stood waiting for something to happen.
I didn't have long to wait. At first there was a gentle warmth which in a matter of seconds was replaced by an intense burning and a feeling I can only describe as like being given a barbed wire wedgie by two people intent on hitting the ceiling with my head. Religion hadn't featured much in my life until that night but I suddenly became willing to convert to any religion to stop the violent burning around the turd tunnel and what seemed like the destruction of the meat and two veg. Struggling to not bite through my bottom lip I tried to wash the gel of in the sink and only succeeded in blocking the plughole with a mat of hair. Through the haze of tears I struggled out of the bathroom across the hall into the kitchen by this time walking was not really possible and I crawled the final yard to the fridge in the hope of some form of cold relief. I yanked the freezer drawer out and found a tub of ice cream, tore the lid of and positioned it under me.
The relief was fantastic but only temporary as it melted fairly quickly and the fiery stabbing soon returned .Due to the shape of the ice cream tub I hadn't managed to give the starfish any treatment and I groped around in the drawer for something else as I was sure my vision was going to fail fairly soon.I grabbed a bag of what I later found out was frozen sprouts and tore it open trying to be quiet as I did so.I took a handful of them and tried in vain to clench some between the cheeks of my arse. This was not doing the trick as some of the gel had found it's way up the chutney channel and it felt like the space shuttle was running it's engines behind me. This was probably and hopefully the only time in my life I was going to wish there was a gay snowman in the kitchen which should give you some idea of the depths I was willing to sink to in order to ease the pain.
The only solution my pain crazed mind could come up with was to gently ease one of the sprouts where no veg had gone before. unfortunately, alerted by the strange grunts coming from the kitchen the other half chose that moment to come and investigate and was greeted by the sight of me, arse in the air, strawberry ice cream dripping from my bell end pushing a sprout up my arse while muttering..." Ooooh that feels good ". Understandably this was a shock to her and she let out a scream and as I hadn't heard her come in it caused an involutary spasm of shock in myself which resulted in the sprout being ejected at quite some speed in her direction. I can understand that having a sprout farted against your leg at 11 at night in the kitchen probably wasn't the special surprise she was expecting and having to explain to the kids the next day what the strange hollow in the ice cream was didn't improve my status...So to sum it up Veet removes hair, dignity and self respect...:)

School reunion at very posh gents club in St James.

One of my mates is a bit keen and is very much the worse for wear before we sit down for dinner.

He disappears half way through, and after about half an hour we send out a search party,

He was found in the gents, kneeling on his dinner jacket, with his head down the loo, soaking himself in his own vomit, trousers around his ankles, with a huge turd snaking it way down his legs into a pile on his jacket.

He later explained that he had gone to do a shit, felt the need to puke half way through, so done a switcheroo forgetting he was in the process of curling one out, putting hismjacket on the floor so he wasnt kneeling in piss. The rest was a mystery to him.

Always a tough choice - whether do the switcheroo and emit your psycheldelic yodel prior to releasing the big brown dog barking at the back door or try and achieve the double award puke and shit at the same time.

a fresh faced and dewy eyed little daddy wayne excitedly clutched his fishing rod and box of maggots [no euph]. Dad worked at British Steel and they'd organised a bus to some sunshine blessed arcadia of piscine delights.

I'd saved enough dinner money to purchase several bottles of cider and this 13 year old captain Ahab was primed. It was a very hot day and my investment in special apple juice had left me no money to purchase vittels.

By the time the works charabanc departed back to those dark, satanic mills I was a shivering wreck. A dab of sunstroke [we're not used to the sun in Wales] and a secondary fermentation of the copious amounts of cheap cider were beginning to herald the onslaught of some untold mishap.

I was poured in to seat behind one of the fellas that worked with my dad, lovely fella with a bald head that gleamed like one of the domes on a bhuddist temple. Several miles in to the bus journey the inevitible happened. I didn't chunder as much as unleash a tsunami of cider and gut juice. A solid wall of liquid hit and then surfed over my dad's mates gleaming bonce.

Fair does, he never grassed me up to me dad… not been able to touch cider since

Not vomit, and not quite shit but my friends brother once became alarming crippled with an unidentified stomach pain. He started panicking about it so much that he ended up driving himself in a sweat to a&e. On the way he let out a small fart and thought 'could it just be gas?'. He ended up pulling over into a lay by where he farted non stop for a full five minutes. With the pain gone he swung the car around and drove back home.

Amazon.co.uk: Customer Reviews: Veet for Men Hair Removal Gel Creme 200 ml the now famous amazon veet hair removal thread...plenty of win relating to knobs/bollocks and fruit/veg.

I just recalled a puke story yesterday: Years ago in Vienna, Austria I was out with the now ex and two of our colleagues.

We went to a concert (Staind I believe) and I had some white wine, which must've been vinegar cleaning fluid masquerading as, because my stomach started moaning after 2 drinks.

We then went on to one of those faux Irish pubs you have everywhere outside the island of Ireland for a few drinks. The guys were all smoking and as a non-smoker I wondered what the fuss was all about.

I had enough sense to go on tea instead of drink. Unfortunately the Marlboro also fucked off my stomach so by the time I was at the second cigarette (still wondering why it's so great to smoke) all of a sudden my stomach decided it's had enough of this day and violence refunded the wine/some dinner into the cup of tea in front of my nose.

Followed by a run to the loo and being asked to leave by the bar staff.

Smoking, it's not for me.

Fecal Rush...

Premium Flush, surely.

Always a tough choice - whether do the switcheroo and emit your psycheldelic yodel prior to releasing the big brown dog barking at the back door or try and achieve the double award puke and shit at the same time.

In 1999 I had a bathroom where the sink was within barfing distance of the toilet. Great days.

Clearly a bachelor pad.

In 1999 I had a bathroom where the sink was within barfing distance of the toilet. Great days.

I was in Helsinki for a meeting with Nokia and in the taxi to the office (not Nokia House thankfully) I started to feel a bit unwell. By the time we pulled up at the office I was on the verge of hallucinations and sweating profusely and as my colleague signed us in, I made a dash for the visitor toilets next to reception. Once in there, a veritable torrent of liquid exited my arse at high velocity, only for me to feel the urge to vomit too. Thankfully the sink was close enough that I could vomit into that whilst remaining on the toilet.

I still pity the poor person who had to clean that loo later.

Like a boss, I made the meeting in time for my slot on the agenda.

I have been feeling really down today due to over indulging last night. The last few pages just rescued me.. Thanks everyone.

I used to live in the Netherlands, my parents moved there when I was 16. As a sixteen year old with what can only be described as a keen interest in getting messed up using any possible method I was in my element. Free houses amongst my teenage ex-pat friends were always an event. One that sticks in my mind, we managed to tidy up the house in time for the return of his folks, the place was immaculate, or so we thought. His folks returned and inspected the house searching for the inevitable damage, and found none, so went upstairs and unpacked. Later on that afternoon his dad was relaxing in the conservatory when he looked up and wondered why there appeared to be a glittering cow pat smeared down the roof. After going through the bins and finding the 5 empty bottles of Goldschlager the penny dropped, no one could figure out quite how that person's vow was so viscose though.

My Grandmother's 80th Birthday celebration.
I came back home from uni for the occasion and we all went out for a family meal at a local restaurant and then back to my Auntie's house which was round the corner. My uncle was a very heavy drinker - killed him in the end - and so the lager available at his was Special Brew. I had had some wine and champagne with the meal and then a few of those evil bastards. I was not and am not a big drinker. I was apparently the last to leave.
My next memory is waking up naked in a bath with a vaguely familiar looking, equally naked, girl asking me what the fucking hell was going on. She was the girlfriend of an old mate who lived on my route home and it turns out that I arrived at my mate's house - after she had gone to bed - and proceeded to go into their living room, sit down in a chair, cup my hands in front of my mouth and then throw up all over myself, the chair, the carpet, everything. My mate and another friend who was there picked me up and carried me to the bathroom still puking. I was dumped in the bath, stripped and they took it in turns to watch over me so I didn't choke on my own vomit and clean up the ungodly mess I had made. It took them all night. They eventually left me sleeping and my mate went to bed without waking his girlfriend. When she woke up and came in to the bathroom to get ready for work she didn't know I was in the house.
Apparently the puke was epic. I don't know as I never saw any of it. Nor did I see any of my clothes again as they were binned by my mates. The subject is still pretty much taboo.

Bloody good party Grandma.

I'm currently recovering from a puke story.

Visiting an ex work colleague this weekend we drank numerous bottles of wine from around 3pm. I lie down on the sofa just for a second at midnight and the next thing i know it's 4am and i wake up as sick is travelling up through my whatever sick travels up.

As i run through the kitchen seeking out a toilet i can't hold it anymore and projectile vomit all over the stone floor. (and it turns out today, cupboards. Lots of cupboards). I then proceeded to walk over the sick to grab some toilet roll to clean up my horrible mess, but slipped banana skin style on my own sick, and then perform what must be the worst ever slip and slide through the kitchen.

The problem was earlier that day we were joking how i'd completely forgot to pack any spare clothes for the weekend and i was now covered in my own vomit. I drunkenly worked out the washing machine though, and it was only this morning when i was found outside having a fag at 7am just in my pants that my friend had any idea.

I work in a hospital and had to go to the a&e to pick up an unconscious intoxicated guy to the ICU one night. It's a pretty standard chore on weekends, but this one was a bit better than many others as the guy had a slightly less wasted mate with him who tried to explain what had happened. They'd apparently gone through a couple of clubs having "around 17 pints in total plus some shots" before they were offered some unidentifiable substance from a bottle by some guy, the still conscious of them declined but the other helped himself greedily. As we wheeled the unconscious one out of the room, the fellow explaining things suddenly stops talking and starts exhibiting every symptom in the book of an imminent pukestorm in the making. Green faced and sweaty he starts staring wildly for somewhere to let go and opts for a cardboard box in the hallway where he deposits aproximately 2.5 litres of green/yellow putrescence. A nurse turns on him and yells "that box has all my files and papers in it, you shit!" Apparently they were moving things between rooms. The guy panics and the sight of him drunkenly trying to escape from four very angry and sober nurses chasing him was hilarious. Eventually they caught him and made him clean everything up. His mate spent the night in ICU. A great and classy night out for both.

Cross posted from the news thread:

Newcastle Uni life can take its toll...

I had gone round to the next door flat in my block to help celebrate whatever it was we had decided needing celebrating that night and quickly got into the swing of drinking. We decided to get pissed in the flat and then stumble off into the city centre later.

After a couple of hours and a large amount of vodka, I realised that I needed to slow down before heading out so decided to get some fresh air and take a moment to my severely drunken self.

In the lift back up to the flat I decided I needed a loo stop too before heading into town with everyone who were now leaving. I was found 4 hours later still on my loo stop vomit everywhere and trousers round my ankles. The next door flat had to break the door down because I apparently refused to let them in til i 'sobered myself up'...