For Sale: Foffa Single Speed Custom-built bicycle

NO! the only practical option is to sacrifice your under-keks and leave them sat on the rim (preferably with dirt showing) as a dirty protest. Removing one sock would leave you with one uncomfortably sweaty and smelly foot and one normal foot - this is unaaceptable. Where as going commando is liberating.

I would agree Bobbo.

Unless you shat your kex of course.

Quick straw poll.

Imagine that you are in a really manky nightclub (What used to be Sugar in Leamington Spa) and get the squits. You run to the literally piss flooded toilets and let your intestinal floodgates open. You then notice that there is no toilet paper in the dispenser. Let me reiterate the fact that the male toilets in Sugar were always flooded with piss due to blocked urinals.

Do you

a) Not wipe at all
b) Pick up a clump of urine soaked used paper off the floor and use that
c) Remove a sock and use that

My friend went with option b and to this day insists that it is the only way to go.

Surely c is the only practical option?

Been there.

The best choice is to use your undies, because the chances are they are already a bit spattered.

One sock is good but you feel weird afterwards, the bare foot rubbing in your shoe a constant reminder that you are a Dirty Boy.

My mate Denny once got the shits in Turkey and wiped his arse on money because each note was worth about five pence.

Quick straw poll.

Imagine that you are in a really manky nightclub (What used to be Sugar in Leamington Spa) and get the squits. You run to the literally piss flooded toilets and let your intestinal floodgates open. You then notice that there is no toilet paper in the dispenser. Let me reiterate the fact that the male toilets in Sugar were always flooded with piss due to blocked urinals.

Do you

a) Not wipe at all
b) Pick up a clump of urine soaked used paper off the floor and use that
c) Remove a sock and use that

My friend went with option b and to this day insists that it is the only way to go.

Surely c is the only practical option?

Wash arse in sink, dry on passed out drunk chav in next sink.

Repped!

Should we get the thread renamed?

needs moar foff.

'Thought you were going to faff, but foffed in your pants?'

'The Chronicles of Foff'

'Fecal Rainbow: The Veronica Moser cross collab with Faffa'

d) Shit self, carry on drinking, deal with it later.

During a particularly animated argument with the chap in question I suggested that he would even have been better off removing the cistern lid and washing his arse in the cistern before washing his hands outside the cubicle.

I think we are all agreed, he made the wrong choice.

If I remember correctly I believe he woke up in a park with his trousers round his ankles that night.

I hate going commando. Had a nasty experience in a Tesco car park in the summer of 1996.

polish their nipsy?
I just snorted.

Best thread since Dropout Drops In.

I feel sorry for the OP but hope that he takes comfort from knowing that he has started something special.

I hate going commando. Had a nasty experience in a Tesco car park in the summer of 1996.
My brother always goes commando.

I remember him offering his sincerest condolences to a rather sexy young lass at a funeral once.
Her mother had died of cancer.
He was being all sympathetic, but when I looked down his cock had nosed it's way out of his open fly and was twitching it's way to half lob.

Our mother noticed the same time as me. It was fucking priceless.

Quick straw poll.

Imagine that you are in a really manky nightclub (What used to be Sugar in Leamington Spa) and get the squits. You run to the literally piss flooded toilets and let your intestinal floodgates open. You then notice that there is no toilet paper in the dispenser. Let me reiterate the fact that the male toilets in Sugar were always flooded with piss due to blocked urinals.

Do you

a) Not wipe at all
b) Pick up a clump of urine soaked used paper off the floor and use that
c) Remove a sock and use that

My friend went with option b and to this day insists that it is the only way to go.

Surely c is the only practical option?

Years back I tolerated an evening in Derby's Pink Coconut 'club' by getting muntered on Stella, because I'm flash like that. Feeling a little unsteady I shed some weight by puking a frothy mass that held its form on the bar until it was a pile many inches high, rather than loose slop running freely - it had the consistency of putrid sorbet. Fascinated with its appearance and how much better I felt I began drinking again, until the return of feeling viscous.

Clueless as to where the toilets were I began stumbling around while repressing the feeling of imminent eruption, until I began to spew as I walked. Not wanting it all over my C&A outfit I cupped my hands to hold it as best I could, until I found a bouncer to ask directions of. I didn't need to open my mouth when he saw me - a pile of puke in hand is an obvious request in Derby for the nearest bog. He just pointed lazily, as if I was far from the last punter to ask with desperate eyes what was all too obvious to him. The sight of a shitty club's toilet in an even shittier town is beyond description, so I just went to sleep in a cubicle until kicking out time. I enjoyed myself immensely in there, soothed by the sound of retching the length of the cubicles.

Anyway, option C for me - or I'd just stay in.

My brother always goes commando.

I remember him offering his sincerest condolences to a rather sexy young lass at a funeral once.
Her mother had died of cancer.
He was being all sympathetic, but when I looked down his cock had nosed it's way out of his open fly and was twitching it's way to half lob.

Our mother noticed the same time as me. It was fucking priceless.

aieaieaieaie... repped!

Years back I tolerated an evening in Derby's Pink Coconut.

Ooh, you reminded me of a barmaid from there I was seing for a while, I used to get in free as I worked behind the bar of the White Horse by the courthouse and we used the same security firm so no queue and in through the back door for free. Speaking of which, after a few months of intimate romance she agreed to let me earn my brown wings. It didn't take me long to take off and land and I had the biggest fucking grin in the world, briefly.

When I withdrew I looked at mini Ramaye and realised that she must have had a very large one in the chamber primed and ready to fire. Gobsmacked and wondering how best to get cleaned up, she fired the rear barrel all over the little fella and his sack of jewels. Fortunately we were at her place so I sprinted to the shower got cleaned up as best I could and went to fix some drinks while she sorted out the mess which was once a nice bedroom.

Later on after a few beers, once the sheets were changed and I knew the chambers were empty, biggles got back in the plane and flew another lap of the aerodrome.

This is probably the greatest Thread takeover ever. Feel sorry for the Foffa sale. NOT

Would've been the perfect story if you would've POC'd after she showered mini Ramaye in shit... but I suppose it'll do.

nosed it's way out of his open fly and was twitching it's way to half lob.

Is without question the funniest thing I have ever read.

I love you.

^^^^I believe the term is that you earned your "brown wings with battle honours".

And going back for a second tour of duty?

That's Purple Heart behaviour right there, soldier.

Whichever medal he earned, it should have been awarded by the Queen Mum

or Gary Glitter.

Portugal, 2011.

I have 2 incredibly rich friends, the first one's dad owns a very profitable motorcycle company, the other owns a used car company that has a catchy/annoying tune they play on the TV.

We stayed in friend no.1's apartment in Lagos in the algarve for 2 weeks. One night I met a girl at a place called Grand Cafe in Lagos town and we well, hit it off. This girl invited me and my friends back to her house. When I say house I mean mansion. This thing was stupidly big, about 15 bedrooms or so, 3 pools and a huge garage. The girl looked like Audrina form The Hills and in my drunk state, that's what I called her for about 6 hours, but even though I was drunk, I know she was hot as I saw her on the beach the day before when I was sober.

While everyone was partying I took this girl upto one of the bedrooms and once again, we really hit if off. After we had finished playing cluedo, she went for a shower. I was hammered and was starting to feel ill, really ill. I did what I thought was best in that situation, spew up all over her expensive bed, then try to cover it up by putting the covers over it and spew up all over them. As I did this I could hear the shower stopping and her drying herself off, I couldn't find any clothes except my boxers so I slung them on a dashed and for some bizarre reason I took her house keys with me. I ran for my life and was sick in one of the Jacuzzis on the way out, flagged a taxi down just in my boxers and went home to my friends house.

Best part of it was, I went onto Facebook when I got home a week later and had a friend request from her wanting to meet up when she gets back in the UK (this was 3 days after I had puked in her bed, stole her keys and ran away)

Cash back.

If it's wings, maybe he should be awarded the 'Crop Sprayer'