Worlds Worst Shitter

Having got bored with the Journo thread in one eye and Richard and Judy in the other, I thought I'd canvas all here to discover where the worst shitters are in the world.

Here are my starters:

1/. ISAF HQ in Kabul. Private cubicle, but not soundproofed. You could hear a senior Dutch officer whistle away, sit down and then pebbledash the bowl without a care in the world.

2/. Fussen, Germany. The bog at the station was covered in shiite, quite artistically arranged, there was no paper, the walls were covered in spunk and there was a gloryhole decorated with a drawing of a bent over gentleman. Between gasps for air, I drew a pickelhaub on the top of it. All this in a part of the world where they turn you into a lampshade for the most minor of offences.

3/. Any bog on First Great Western especially on the Hereford service. As soon as you run the tap to wash your hands you just know that the filthy feckers piss into the sink, not into the loo.

4/. House of Commons, just by the Lobby. There was a Richard the Third in there that was the size and shape of a bowling ball - I swear it even had three finger holes in it, but in spite of the opportunity to provide S-bend spin, it sat there like a peer with an expense account and wouldn't budge. So you cover it with paper and wait until nobody is about before you leave.

5/. MoD in Whitehall. Long, sausage shaped turd left in the bowl and a copy of the Daily Star left on the floor opened at the Starbirds page.

I know that there were some horrible traps in the 'Stan and The Sandpit and there are plenty of others...

The heads on the USS Theodore Roosevelt were covered in shiite and crammed with toilet paper and haunted by some rather strange and dusturbing chappies.

And here is a disgusting website:
Can't remember it's name, but northern Norway there is a camp on a mountain, and the karzi is a row of enormously deep thunderboxes. Use of a torch (post dump) reveals a six foot high pyramid of permafrozen turds, with one steaming on the top!

BTW, as this is my 2,000th post, beers at my gaffe, schnell!
Actually I'll add another one at the BBC. You sit down and relax, ready to drop one in the conventional matter and the cubicle next to you becomes occupied and whoever it is sits down and the unmistakable sound of wnacking begins and gets more and more urgent until you crimp one off as a public service in order to disguise the horrible sounds from next door. The horrid man was from Newsnight.
My memories are drawn to the turdis on the Peak construction project in Hong Kong.

On a site with 200+ workers, there was only one turdis. If this wasn't bad enough, although the turdis had been provided, there was no contract in place to have it emptied.

As a newcomer to the site, there was no need to ask where the toilets were. You just followed the trail of pi$$, sh1t, vomit etc upstream to it's source.

The icing on the cake was that temperatures were in the upper 30sC, humidity was 100% and any rare breeze sent the smell further into the site. Until the nearby shopping complex was opened fully, there wasn't an alternative sh1tter within 2 miles or 30 minutes.
Bog in the 2nd class carriage on the train from Paniji or Old |Goa(can't remember) to Udipi totally stunk every while a stink of stale p1ss drifts down the carriage I don't think the bogs had been cleaned since the carriage had been re-furbed 10 years before I really would hate to smell it in the height of high summer bad enough trying not to gagg in the winter time I can only imagine the state of the bogs. Other wise last train home from from Glasgow central turds and the biggest pool of spew running out into the carriage
Here's another: the khazis at Gateway House in Brize. How is it possible for highly trained individuals with good drills to miss the pan? Or is this hideous mess a message for the crabs?
my no. 1 would be the portaloos used by LEC's at any coalition base in Afghanistan. makes me retch just thinking of them.......
Salonika- sorry, Thessaloniki- station in Greece, summer 04. There was smeared shit all over the floor, walls, bogs and ceilings of the place, hanging down like stalactites. I've never seen anything like it, it was like a national dirty protest. And to cap it all, there was a local Mrs Moppos having a calm fag in the middle of the place, before she replaced the handtowels and waddled away from the reeking cackcave.
Just visit any campsite used by cadet forces for expedition training. Approximately 15 minutes after arrival all but one of the porta-bogs will have a neatly formed pile of turds somehow arranged so they extend 6inch above the actual loo seat and will have developed such an interesting odour that the plastic has begun to melt.
Saltau.......... two porcelain chargers for an entire battlegroup after a week or more on Compo.

Recalling the smell and the skidmarks is making me dry heave
Another: a bog at a gas station in Georgia. I got the urge to part with some weight, opened the khazi door and there was a trucker, mid crimp. "Good morning", he said, as I looked at the spare bowl. I lost the will to live and dumped behind the building onto the soil of the Land of the Free, etc.
Any portaloo at Camp Eagle 4, Kuwait, prior to the Iraq invasion.

Every thunderbox in Baldy Beacons.

The first trap as you go in Otterburn NAAFI, the one where someone had written ' Good 'ere innit?' in his own shite.
Oh, and a portaloo at Cherry Point on Ex Purple Warrior. On looking down the full pan there was a beautifully created turd resplendent with a fresh sperm topping.
Zambia, Lusaka Bus station. Every colour, consistency and size you can possibly imagine. Had obviously not been any running water for a long time, but hadn't prevented what appeared to be months worth of accumulation - pan, seat, wall, floor. After being stupid enough to eat something purchased from a road side vendor I couldn't afford to be too choosy and left my own momento. It has to be the longest I have ever held my breath or the fastest dump in memory.
I remember a bog on a campsite in France with a tall pyramid-shaped roof. It had a skylight. Climb onto the roof, aim at the pan beneath and you'd get one point for the seat, two for a splash and nowt for the floor. The ultmate moment (4 points) was to time it just as some poor bugger arrived for a quiet moment of contemplation.
Fort Lewis, summer 2004.

At least 4 weeks of 35+ heat (I know, not dreadful, but still HOT!) and we were the 10th regiment to go through that training area.

The "portajons" were fcuking minging. I am not totally averse to the idea portaloos, I enjoy observing my produce on the plastic flap (in UK ones) before listening for the chemical splash as my turd turns blue. However these were full. Not just slightly full, but the level of turds in many of them was above the level of the seat. Cue squatting by standing on the toilet seat.
The smell was absofcukingpostively disgusting. This was made all the harder by the hard shaft I was having to manoeuvre around due to one of the bints telling me she'd just thrown her skiddies away due to the blob seeping through. At that point I was missing my red wings and had been enduring a dry patch. So dry that the idea of nailing a septic bird, on the rag, in 35 degree heat after a week without washing seemed fecking amazing.

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