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touching cloth

any tips on holding those bad-boy bottom bursters in when you've set out on a cross country run? I've almost been caught short twice now, and once annoyingly had to cut short a run, then re-start it (which I know wouldnt give me a true time) by nipping back to my house (was running round my village)
FORKS: I save that for after the run for a bit of shower-time pleasure.

sandman: it's yesterdays food that is the problem. perhaps I should get up half hour earlier and start training when i normally do, but the problem is I can have no stirrings yet after my guts have been bouncing up and down for 7 or 8 minutes its party time
thanks eseL, thats my fear embodied. I have had Al Fresco's when I was younger so I suppose I could deal with it, but I'd hate for it to happen on the RSC or something important like that.
It's worse when you know you need a shit, and you can feel it coming, but for all the straining and pushing on the pan, it won't budge. These are the ******* that can just hit you at the worst time.

That's when the finger is useful!

edit: haha, so Shít got censored, but ******* didn't! haha.
abcdefghijklmnop said:
after my guts have been bouncing up and down for 7 or 8 minutes its party time
In that case, ten minutes warm-up before you leave the house. Star jumps, squats, burpees etc, pebbledash the pan, and hit the road.
Very timely. Went for a run yesterday in a certain capital city of wales and felt some rumblings so I stopped and parted my arse to see if I could let out a fart. Bit of guff but there was definately some monster lurking back there waiting for its moment. Star my run again and a minute later get the same cramps, stop again and a tiny bit of fart, starting to think perhaps I should start for home before its too late. But decide to press on as if I can hold it in for a few minutes it will retreat. But just a few steps later I get cramps again and have to stop dead, subconsciously Im scanning my surroundings working out where I can go for a shit in the middle of cardiff without getting caught whilst having now decided its time to teleport myself home.

Alas more pangs and then the panic sets in, my brain fixes what looks like a good spot for a shit, quite seccluded, behind a building, minimal chance of getting caught but the British part of my brain can't quite believe its come to that yet and I stumble on.

Then, like a horse bolting from a cage my survival instinct kicks in and I shuffle toward the spot looking guiltily around still not quite believing I'm going to have to take a massive dump.

I get behind the building and pull down my shorts and took a massive shite finishing off with a few bubbles of liqui fart. Luckily being the boy scout type that I am I have worn two pairs of socks. Im torn between just pulling up my kecks incase my luck runs out and I have to run from an upset member of the public for desecrating their capital or taking off my trainer and using the extra sock to sop up the gravy. Still in a half panic I decided on the sock option as I still had a good mile and a half home.

I'm quite sure there is a gargantuan turd sat nesting in a copse of grass behind a building in Cardiff. On saturday I'm going to have a look as it was dark at the time.
Happened on a golf course as a result of a dodgy curry the night before. Remember the Boy Scout motto - always pack a couple of bar towels in your golf bag.

And another top-tip - DON'T ask the QM for Bum Tampons when you're on a boys-only ex in the forests. He'll tell everyone you know and may even write to your parents. You will live with the shame forever.
The main thing that seems to be glaringly obvious from this thread is that "sandmanfez" is a domesticated being, who is capable of a bit of planning.
Not dull at all. More a case of a man with a bit of "savoir fare" ...... sexy!!, but am a little too tipsy to explain properly first time.
bovvyblonde said:
Not dull at all. More a case of a man with a bit of "savoir fare" ...... sexy!!, but am a little too tipsy to explain properly first time.
I'm not even going to ask how the use of phrases such as "park your breakfast" and "pebbledash the pan" equate to "sexy" but you've been drinking, so I'll cut you some slack. :lol:
abcdefghijklmnop said:
if worst came to worst I would just take some immodium, anyone tried it? that stuff is POTENT.
Yeah, I think when they set off running not expecting to need a turd (otherwise they'd have brought some shit-tickets), they probably didn't think: "Right, hydrated, check, stretched, check, shoes tied, check, immodium, oh no, I forgot the immodium!"

You think?

I thought the whole point of sitting on a turtle's head with legs crossed until the end of mess dinner throughout mind-numbing speeches was to fine-tune the military mind to overcome these civilian frailties?

Much the same way that standing motionless on the far corner of a parade ground whilst some pad slagette describes the state of her gusset and the need for immediate action behind that portacabin makes you a better sentry.

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