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You never forget your first, or so they say.
First kiss First fuck First film First holiday First memory First…
First post.
First film
OK, first film I saw at the cinema at least. I'm told by my mother that it was Robin Hood,the Disney version with the foxy man of Sherwood. The grown ups didn't like it. They found it the least entertaining of the Disney films. I wouldn't know for many years because back in those days, Disney films were never released on television. They were simply rotated each year in the cinema - if it wasn't for home video, who knows, this could have gone on forever. The year after Robin Hood, the Disney film might have been Jungle Book, the following summer, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves - hi ho. If you weren't of Disney-going age when Jungle Book was showing, it could be ten years before it came round again. Not remembering Robin Hood meant there was a gap in my Disneycation for years - by the time it came round again I was drinking Merrydown cider and puking on girls. I didn't see it until Disney changed the rules and it was on the telly. So, I don't think that counts as my first film. The first I can remember seeing was The Spy Who Loved Me. A quick IMDB search reveals that this particular Bond adventure was released in 1977, the same year as Star Wars. I remember seeing Star Wars at the cinema but I'm certain I saw The Spy Who Loved Me first. My granddad took us. I insisted I wanted Tunes from the sweet counter ("But you don't have a cold, you daft apeth") and sucked them quietly into wafer thin windows of cherry flavoured decongestant while Roger did battle with Jaws on the screen. I went to the toilets mid-movie and couldn't find my way back to my seat through the clouds of cigarette smoke choking the cinema - those were the days….
Nah, rubbish.
I'm getting married this year. In order to rent out some of God's property for the occasion I have to pretend to believe he actually exists. On Saturday I met the priest who will perform the ceremony. Father Alex, that's his name, has a snarling Jack Russell called Boris and speaks as if the ghost of Dale Winton were being channelled through his body like a scene from The Gay Exorcist (available on Sony's new Pink DVD label). He asked me if I'd been baptised and I told him I might have been Christened. I thought there was a difference. I think I was wrong. We were just shooting the breeze really. He had lots of gifts of wine and sweets under his Christmas tree (which was still up and decorated after Twelfth Night - God will forgive him apparently). The collection of bottles and tins made me think of a harvest festival, arriving at church as a kid with a tin of spam and a jar of pickles. It made me realise just how irrelevant this whole ceremony will be to me. My understanding of Christianity is constructed from childhood flashbacks - those harvest festivals, school assemblies, watching The Get Along Gang on a Sunday, funerals, Life of Brian. Are any TMO posters religious? Are we all shit cool cynical god h8ers? Is….
Shite….
Starting threads used to be easy.
Confession. Want absolution? Confess here, right now, on this thread. Tell TMO something awful you've done…
I finally sold my flat today. Months of stress has just vanished with a single phone call. It doesn't compare to having a poo when you really need one but, it's still one of the most intense moments of relief I've ever felt. When have you been most relieved and why?
Or
Golden Wonder, the crisp legend, has gone bust today. As a mark of respect, which is the best flavour of crisp?
Words, discuss.
Sorry Benway…I tried.
Does anyone else have any other not-quite-thought-out thread ideas kicking around on those hard drives in your head? Maybe some good ones. If so, download them to TMO so I can kill some time doing something other than zombie fighting.
Some nice ideas for threads there, Jonesy. Perhaps somebody like Rex or Bones can come up with something for us to shout down and ridicule. That's all I feel like doing today - just slagging something or somebody off. I've got a headache and I feel a bit sick and all I want to do is have a go at somebody who I don't really know.
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I reckon there are lurkers aplenty out there but I don't know what kind of thread would draw them out. I'd also like some of the stragglers we've picked up through Urban Dead to come out here and post some other shit. The ability to kill a zombie is a useful skill in anyone's world, but it would be nice to see if they can do other things, like juggle or flirt.
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RIP Golden Wonder, how did they go bust, they were Cheese and Onion till Walkers raped them and changed history forever by putting C&O into Salt and Vinigar coloured packets.
I wish I could think of a good thread topic, but at the moment I have enough trouble trying to decide what I want to eat for dinner or if I should bother leaving the house. I want cheap, disposable conversation and some pointless validation of my existance.
First film was Jabberwockey, I saw breasts and the worlds biggest poo in the Southsea Odeon. I'd won free cinema tickets from the Portsmouth evening news for doing a spot the difference competion about a picture from the Giant Spider Invasion, but I didn't want to see that because I was scared of Spiders. My mad aunt Irene took me. This was pre mad though so I had a Kiora and a jolly nice time, then a burger at the Wimpy on the way home..
Confession - No, you're not ready for that yet..
Regrets, that's always a good topic for discussion, but I have to put Beckett down for a nap now so I don't havethe time to write one.
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Look Benway. Never finsihed this terrible reworking of American Pie either …for good reason.
A long long time ago When it was only IAN's show along with Benway and a Fish. And I knew if I had my chance I too could make these this trio dance A bread stick to their three course dish. Oh yes the Moon could still deliver With a tingle and a shiver Debate mixed with sexwurd Agog for the next word. I do remember that I tried When reading "this server's denied" And something touched my dead inside The day that Seethru died. I started singin' ... Bye-bye, server access denied
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I bet it wasn't the world's biggest poo Darryn. The world's biggest poo was left in the gentleman's toilets of unit 3 Orwell House, Felixstowe, Christmas 1989. It was deposited in the bowl (well half in, half out) by a man who ate trees. It was as thick as an old-school balloon pump and I'd estimate its length to be somewhere in the region of 14 inches (about the length of a typical clown's foot, for those of you working in metric).
I was a cleaner there at the time, earning a little cash to see me through my A Levels. Luckily, the girls did the toilets. I remember Bev, the girl (she was a dinner lady too; I quite fancied he actually - which just feels diiiirty now), going into the toilets with her bucket and marigolds. "Don't forget your axe" I shouted after her. Hahaha. She left this thing in the bowl. It was still there after the Christmas break. I'm sure it was bigger. Maybe lonely office staff, filing paperwork and contemplating suicide over the Christmas period had pooed on top of it, their everyday human movement simply being sucked into the master poo, adding to its bulk and the phenomenal power of the ultimate Yuletide log. I'm not sure how they god rid of it…the fire brigade maybe, dynamite…...who knows.
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No, the biggest poo in the world reguarly manifests in my own toilet thanks to my neighour. One time I went in and it was so disgusting that I vomitted on the spot, then slipped over in the vomit and put my hand out to break my fall, but acidentally plunged my arm deep into the thick rancid mousse that was filling the bowl. I vomitted again, into the bowl this time, and then pulled my arm out, but did it to quickly and accidentally flicked the filth all over my face. Some went in my mouth so I vomitted for a third time, and then I started crying. Man, that was a bad morning.
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When I was a betting shop manager, one of my punters wandered up to the counter, mumbled an apology and walked out of the shop.
I asked my deputy manager what was that about. He shrugged and said the old bloke had been in the toilet. Carefully, we opened the door to the loos and went inside.
In the pan was the biggest single shit I have seen. No word of a lie, it came out of the water and up the side of the pan and poked up above the seat level. It was fucking enormous.
After that, we called him "Captain" as in "Captain's Log"
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Hey I've never fallen in poo. The grossest thing ever was when I was painting a boat with my dad and we stopped to go for a pint. There was the unreal smell, like guts cooked in piss and ammonia in a dirty pan. It was so strong it was impossible to track down the source, like the whole pub had been gassed. It turned out my dad had trod on the rotting corpse of a long-dead thrush, which had exploded filhty yellow bird guts all up the inside of his overalls and trousers. He was forced to burn the trousers.
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Ah, but was it the World's biggest poo? It could have just been an average poo but the person standing next to it was Mikee.
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Once, when I was a was a very young lad, me and my little brother used to have a bath together and afterwards, our mum would leave us in the bedroom to 'dry'.
This one occasion, I could feel a fart coming on so I began to dance in front of my baby brother, who sat on the bed. At the end of my dance, I turned around and put my arse against his face and squeezed.
I followed through.
My mum came into the room to find her youngest son crying with his face covered in shit.
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quote:Originally posted by Roy: Once, when I was a was a very young lad, me and my little brother used to have a bath together and afterwards, our mum would leave us in the bedroom to 'dry'.
This one occasion, I could feel a fart coming on so I began to dance in front of my baby brother, who sat on the bed. At the end of my dance, I turned around and put my arse against his face and squeezed.
I followed through.
My mum came into the room to find her youngest son crying with his face covered in shit.
I remember jumping dwon from the top bunk of our bunk beds, pulling down my Six Million Dollar Man pajamas and doing a bum guff in my brother's face. Far from being angry, he said "Oh my god, your bum turned blue when you did that."
For the next two years I would announce when I felt I had a guff coming and then jump of the bed, spread my little baby cheeks and pump in his face. "No, no, he'd say. Missed it."
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I don't know about length & girth, but I was faced with the world's most stubborn and persistant turd yesterday. The first time I went into the (unisex) staff toilet someone hadn't flushed properly. I bet it was a bloke. After weeing (and as I drink about 2l of water a day at work my wee is as clear and pristine as an alpine spring) and flushing, I realised the original turd was still there, peeking cheekily up at me from a corner of the U bend. Then, a couple of hours later that morning, I went back and it was STILL there! Stridently defying the mighty power of the flush and the inevitable dissolving embrace of the water. It's a bad day when I am driven to use the student toilets.
-------------------- What I object to is the colour of some of these wheelie bins and where they are left, in some areas outside all week in the front garden. Posts: 4941
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Dutch toilets have a shelf in them which you poo onto to avoid splashback:
(note: this is not a picture of our toilet, it's a random bog off the web)
And I was once lucky (or unlucky) enough to be summoned in to the toilet to look at what was a perfectly vertical poo standing on the shelf, proud like the Empire State of shit, a good 6" to 8" high, with a healthy sheen and sweetcorn windows.
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In tibet, in China generally outside of the cities, the concept of privacy is different. My favourite was some little hamlet on the Friendship Highway. Gleaming toilet block, new tiles, very nice. But no doors, no cubicles in fact, just a raised platform with twelve squat toilets in a row.
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quote:Originally posted by Dr. Benway: No, the biggest poo in the world reguarly manifests in my own toilet thanks to my neighour. One time I went in and it was so disgusting that I vomitted on the spot, then slipped over in the vomit and put my hand out to break my fall, but acidentally plunged my arm deep into the thick rancid mousse that was filling the bowl. I vomitted again, into the bowl this time, and then pulled my arm out, but did it to quickly and accidentally flicked the filth all over my face. Some went in my mouth so I vomitted for a third time, and then I started crying. Man, that was a bad morning.
This... isn't... is this a true story?
At one house I lived in, something went wrong with the toilets. A man came round, went into the garden and lifted up this drain cover thing, and underneath it was this solid block of impacted poo which had been growing ever since the 1960s, apparently. It didn't smell though. He had to break it up with a big rod.
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Once when I was working in the bar of a ‘posh’ hotel (not as a hooker, actually working behind the bar) there was an old lady sitting there. After a while she got up and walked out...Leaving a trail of little nuggets behind her through the bar and across the hotel reception...
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quote:Once when I was working in the bar of a ‘posh’ hotel (not as a hooker, actually working behind the bar) there was an old lady sitting there. After a while she got up and walked out...Leaving a trail of little nuggets behind her through the bar and across the hotel reception...
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