Reverse Jackpot

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by convoy_cock, Mar 3, 2006.

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  1. I think I may have just struck some sort of reverse jackpot.

    About quarter of an hour ago, I popped into the bogs to complete my pre-lunch ablutions. Friday day is chippy day and I intend to go for the full hit of chips curry and rice. A barm will accompany this splendid meal. I don't normally eat that much at lunch so felt that I should make a bit of room by squeezing out some unnecessary ballast.

    I went into the first floor traps. There are three. I stuck my head into trap one and found a beautifully laid brown trout languishing in the U bend. The bog roll had been flushed away but it was obviously too big a kipper and had remained. Extensive teabagging had occurred and brown ink permeated the area immediately surrounding the beast. I did a quick wince and moved on to trap two, only to find an identical situation. The cack was slightly smaller, but once more there was an absence of toilet roll and an abundance of brown water. This was now moving into the realms of strangeness, so imagine my surprise, when I completed my jackpot by finding trap three to be exactly the same. The growler in there was the biggest of the three and had the appearance of a particularly savoury bratty, with a good inch of tip breaking the waters surface.

    In my lengthy toilet career, this is the first time i've chanced upon a freak event such as this. What could be the cause? Is it a complete coincidence or is there some sort of covert faecal display team touring the Industrial cities of the North.
  2. The Phantom Sh1tter strikes again!
  3. Maybe someone has been eating compo with an extra portion of biscuits brown.
  4. At least it didn't happen to you in Germany Convoy, otherwise the Richards would have been sitting on the shelf winking back at you.
  5. Convoy, are you sure that they weren't dead squid that had swam up the manchester ship canal and into your work traps. This would explain the lack of bog paper and they might have had one last squirt of ink in their death throws, hence the teabagging effect that you described.
    Either that or you may have some TA blokes in your office who were all on eccers this weekend and have just purged themselves of compo at the sametime (4 days is about the right time for compo to pass through, unless it has been shunted back up due to an unseemly encounter in a public traps). The only way to be sure is to check if they all smell the same. If they all reak of babies heads then you have your answer.
    I recommend jiffing the youngest weediest office person, giving them full IPE mit rezzie and making them do a sniff test- and canister change, just for good measure.
  6. I agree with the 'four day' passthrough period. What you should do is watch and see if anyone is walking funny, as if they had just shat a log.
  7. check the side of the toilets, you should see a big handle on there.

    someone has finally won on my patented "one armed banditbogs" and got turd-turd-turd :)
  8. Maybe someone who is reluctant to sit down, but then again they may be used to having huge things going in and out of their back doors.
  9. ... suddenly my jacket spud is no longer appealing.

    <... boik!> 8O

    personally I find it more amusing when someone's obviously been ill and have suffered an arrse explosion, to create a lovely pebble-dashed effect. Being a lady - we have the additional joys of used tampons floating about looking lost.
  10. You're right. It could be somebody from the Life Guards!
  11. Maybe it was the same dude, but the log was so big he had to crimp it off halfway in trap 1, then bunny hop with strides around ankles to trap 2 like a kangaroo, crimp it again and repeat the process.
    This would point to either someone who has just come off ops, someone who takes it in the ricker or someone who does a lot of knees to the chest.
  12. Convoy, did you win a prize?

    This is the four leafed clover of the water closet world, a message from the lavatory lords that your luck will change.

    I trust rather than flushing ie the 'spin again' you shut the door and let someone else play, effectively pressing the 'hold button'

    A better man would have gone in with his fingers, in an effort to 'nudge' in hope of a better prize.

    You of course resort to Detmolds NAAFI bar antics and kick fcuk out of the pans when the gypsy cnut fails to pay out
  13. Convoy, if you were a real man (or ex Pioneer Corps) you would have put them all on a plate and rushed into the office, announcing triumphantly "LOOK WHAT I FOUND"!!
  14. I sincerely hope the above is true.

    I, for one, would salute (from upwind) anyone capable of the "three-trap-salute"

    The prep involved must be remarkable. He would need canine standard listening skills, in order to prevent a chance encounter with a queq during the bunny hop phase; an encounter that would be sending off all the wrong signals.

    Apparently, the trickiest part of the discipline is the crimp. No ones Brenda Fricker is sufficiently man-trap like to get a clean cut, so artificial assistance is required. When the logger has reached what he considers to be the required length (33% of the entire bowel content excluding sweetcorn), an extra large cigar cutter is brought into play. It is threaded on to the dung end and brought up to just outside pube trimming range. Done correctly, it will leave just enough protruding, so that you won't drop any revels into your undies on the toilet transition, but it won't feel like your starting again when you hit trap two.

    I did hear about a slightly more cowardly approach, that involved gate vaulting the partitions, but the skids on the false ceiling panels were always a dead giveaway
  15. I believe there is a small cottage industry in tidworth that not only makes these log cutters, but they also churn out a training aid for this task. It is, to all intents and purposes, just a girthed up version of the buzzer game that involves negotiating the bendy wire with the metal hoop.
    They were quite big in the 80s when the halcyon days of BAOR and 5AB meant that squadron bar toilet antics were at their height and necessitated such devices.
    By all accounts they ran a couple of adverts with MrT endorsing their products.

    "Hey Suckers! Ya'll know me, I like my gold, but let me tell ya, I didn't get all this fly sh1t by not training. Any Motherfcuker can leave a log in the pan, but if you think you be man enough to do the three trap challenge without practicing, then you be a crazy ass fool, ya dig? So when I want to take the BAOR three sh1t title off Murdoch, then I'm gonna by me the 'Salisbury plain industries Log Buzzer 2000'. If I like it enough, I'll even buy the Motherfcukin company!
    That's right motherfcukers. And if you buy it now, then you'll get yo'selfs the deluxe model cack trimmer free of charge."