For Sale: Foffa Single Speed Custom-built bicycle

^ I'm calling bullshit...

The other weekend my elder son and I rode down to Downe and stopped at the George & Dragon for some lunch. I asked for two pints of Peroni, holding a small portrait of Darwin in my mitt. Guess what? No change! Luckily I had a credit card with me to pay for my cod and chips. But what is it about "garden peas" or "petit pois" that makes them survive a passage through an entire human digestive system with only a slight shift in colour?

Was there a bike in this thread somewhere?

Dibs!

Joking.

I'll start the bidding for the Foffa at £100, delivered.

Pfff, that's a bit harsh em.

You'd only need to pay me £50 to take it.

Probably a bit late to the shit story party, but meh

When I went to Morocco, I got a bit too adventurous with the menu, and something called 'trou berber' had me shitting like a hose for the last half of the holiday. I ended up in some grotty public toilet in a market square, squatting over a hole in the ground, bracing myself against the walls with my shorts and boxers in my hands whilst trying to keep my naked, flip-flopped feet away from the pissy floor and trying not to gag on the taste of other peoples' shit which was rising back up through the hole. Truly an ordeal.

epic thread. rated as well.
thanks Paul, and itssaboutthebike especially

Ha!

Probably a bit late to the shit story party, but meh

When I went to Morocco, I got a bit too adventurous with the menu, and something called 'trou berber' had me shitting like a hose for the last half of the holiday. I ended up in some grotty public toilet in a market square, squatting over a hole in the ground, bracing myself against the walls with my shorts and boxers in my hands whilst trying to keep my naked, flip-flopped feet away from the pissy floor and trying not to gag on the taste of other peoples' shit which was rising back up through the hole. Truly an ordeal.

Sounds like the results of the burger at Souths.

Once, as a kid, I had to use a squat hole toilet in France to go number two.

Uncommon to the theme of this thread, I wasn't suffering any gastrointestinal distress.

I did, however, hose down my pants with piss.

I've had a similar experience.
Since then I've always completely stripped my lower half when using a 'traditional' French bog.

Sounds like the results of the burger at Souths.

Why do people insist on eating at compass beers? Norfs go as far as a bowl of chips or some scampi fries, none of this burger malarchy. It's beers FFS not a dinner date, you deserve everything your arse can throw out of you.

most of us finish work late, so it's nice to be able to eat at the pubs instead of cutting our time short by going home to cook dinner.

Here's my best shit story: The last time I had the backdoor trots/racing shits it was a bug lovingly shared by my toddler. It wiped out 5 other people and he just vomited once. Well done.

It started with puking in public in the city center at 6 PM near the pubs (which is quite embarrassing if not drunk) cos there's no dark corner I could get to in time and a fun night of talking to the great white telephone / embracing a bucket and firing on both cylinders.

Vaseline is a powertip if you have the runs that last more than a day and it feels like you turning into a chemical plant that produces sulfuric acid. Mashed potato/other starchy food also seems to stem the tide a bit.

Got a vomit story too if interested, even beer related.

That's your best?

3/10.

most of us finish work late, so it's nice to be able to eat at the pubs instead of cutting our time short by going home to cook dinner.

skip dinner, beer is full of calories.

I don't drink beers.

I don't drink beers.

that must be the most incomprehensible thing you have ever said and something I doubt I will ever understand

Rameye, were not all blessed with your padding to burn so we need out sustenance.

That's your best?

3/10.

I should visit certain "restaurants" more regularly it seems.

I don't drink beers either. Go on then.

I remember at school there was a famous shit nicknamed 'Tennis Ball'.
It kept on getting bigger and bigger everyday and none of the cleaners went near it.
One day someone ran over shouting 'she's trying to flush tennis ball' and we all sprinted to the bogs to watch. It took the poor cleaner a good 15 minutes of breaking it up with a broom handle followed by a vigorous plunging with what looked like a piece of hosepipe that was taped up at one end. I assume she was using a piece of old hosepipe as it was able to reach places the broom handle couldn't. Obviously she'd seen this type of thing before.
In the end she was successful and we all cheered whilst banging on the walls of the cubicles.

I hate beer, Captain Morgans or a Makers Mark for me.

Rameye, were not all blessed with your padding to burn so we need out sustenance.

#ubinscobled

I first heard this story on That's Life circa 1977...

This is a massive CSB. You'll all love it.

Every Christmas one of my Grandad's mates used to receive a box of chocolate covered Brazil nuts from a cousin or someone. He had no teeth so just used to suck the chocolate off and leave the nut.

He then used to put the nuts back in a bowel on the coffee table for people to help themselves to when they came round.

That would be this ^ story... not the various good sh'tting ones....