Have you ever done a shit at a football ground?

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Caught in need at Bohemians Prague (many years ago), they kindly directed me to the referee's changing room. As it was half time, the match officials were a little surprised to see me.

I guess Czech football is generally accepted as corrupt so who cares if some random guy has access to the referee at half time.
 
Nah but I did one in EPCOT once, those US toilets are strange, big gaps at each side of the door, you can see people walking past while dropping one.
 
Akinbiyi said:
this no football in midweek thing is going to get boring very quickly...

So go on. Own up.

I for one haven’t at a professional ground but have at one or two Sunday league grounds where I’ve been playing.
Click to expand...

No never. Never on a plane either
 
BarcaBlade said:
Caught in need at Bohemians Prague (many years ago), they kindly directed me to the referee's changing room. As it was half time, the match officials were a little surprised to see me.

I guess Czech football is generally accepted as corrupt so who cares if some random guy has access to the referee at half time.
Click to expand...
Popping sausages no doubt.
It always feels a bit strange pissing in those plastic urinals at the back of the terrace in full view of everyone. Added bonus of still being able to watch the match while having a piss.
 
Akinbiyi said:
this no football in midweek thing is going to get boring very quickly...

So go on. Own up.

I for one haven’t at a professional ground but have at one or two Sunday league grounds where I’ve been playing.
Click to expand...

I haven't but I really want to, kind of a holy grail for me in terms of public convenience shitting.
 
Oh, this is a shit story telling thread then now is it? Alright then.

I went to Albufeira just over a year ago for two weeks, during the last day of the holiday I developed a horrendous case of the shits.

I'd done a successful shit after breakfast at this point, as well as one moderately successful shit just before we checked out, so I thought that I'd be relatively safe.
Our flight wasn't until later in the evening, and we weren't getting picked up from the hotel until 4 or something, so we went out.

We did some shopping, then went to sit down for some food. I had a feeling inside me that was somewhere between hunger, sickness, and shit slowly moving through my system.

I decided it was hunger, so I ordered a big fuck off burger.

About five minutes after ordering, I got the urge...

I went to the toilets, and there was only one cubicle. Quite a horrific one too, no toilet seat, and the door was one of those that doesn't really isolate you. I don't know about you, but I like to shit in peace, but anyone over about 5 ft tall would have been able to peer over and watch me at work.

This is where mistakes started to be made.

I shat. The act was horrific. I stood up, wiped myself up, and flushed, but then I got the urge to go again. So I sat, this time I think there was even more. It was like a black tar was pouring out. So again, for what I thought would be the final time, I stood up and cleaned myself up. But no, my bowels called upon me once more, and again, more tar.

By this point I'd flushed twice, and a third was too much. The tonne of toilet paper I'd flushed, and the five tonnes of shit and liquid lead all came back, it was the devil's work, it was all swirling round like something out of a horror film.

I flushed again but fuck me some spilled out and I was panicking.Then I realise, no plunger was available, so I put my arm in to try and remove some of the debris. But after once attempt, I knew it wasn't going to cut it.

I left the cubicle in it's state, and disinfected my arm up until just past my elbow with the minimal amount of Portuguese hand soap they had available.

I left the bathroom after about 20 minutes, sat down with the girlfriend and acted like everything was fine. Then a few minutes later, I noticed someone go into the toilet, he came out two seconds later with an angry, disgusted and horrified look on his face, and started shouting at one of the waitresses.

She informed others, and about five of them went in to see. They exited shaking their heads, with a look of disgust and disappointment. They then started scanning the restaurant, trying to identify the culprit.

We got served our food, and I'm sure the waitress who brought it over gave me an 'I know it was you' look, but that may have just been my paranoia.

I ate my burger. It was a good, although the fact that minutes before I'd just had half my arm submerged in a swamp of shit surprisingly only made it slightly less appealing.

The toilets remained out of order until we left. I tipped more generously that I'd done the whole holiday, and we left.

My shits continued for a few days after we landed. The worst case I've ever had.

Thank you for reading.
 
SteveBlade said:
Oh, this is a shit story telling thread then now is it? Alright then.

I went to Albufeira just over a year ago for two weeks, during the last day of the holiday I developed a horrendous case of the shits.

I'd done a successful shit after breakfast at this point, as well as one moderately successful shit just before we checked out, so I thought that I'd be relatively safe.
Our flight wasn't until later in the evening, and we weren't getting picked up from the hotel until 4 or something, so we went out.

We did some shopping, then went to sit down for some food. I had a feeling inside me that was somewhere between hunger, sickness, and shit slowly moving through my system.

I decided it was hunger, so I ordered a big fuck off burger.

About five minutes after ordering, I got the urge...

I went to the toilets, and there was only one cubicle. Quite a horrific one too, no toilet seat, and the door was one of those that doesn't really isolate you. I don't know about you, but I like to shit in peace, but anyone over about 5 ft tall would have been able to peer over and watch me at work.

This is where mistakes started to be made.

I shat. The act was horrific. I stood up, wiped myself up, and flushed, but then I got the urge to go again. So I sat, this time I think there was even more. It was like a black tar was pouring out. So again, for what I thought would be the final time, I stood up and cleaned myself up. But no, my bowels called upon me once more, and again, more tar.

By this point I'd flushed twice, and a third was too much. The tonne of toilet paper I'd flushed, and the five tonnes of shit and liquid lead all came back, it was the devil's work, it was all swirling round like something out of a horror film.

I flushed again but fuck me some spilled out and I was panicking.Then I realise, no plunger was available, so I put my arm in to try and remove some of the debris. But after once attempt, I knew it wasn't going to cut it.

I left the cubicle in it's state, and disinfected my arm up until just past my elbow with the minimal amount of Portuguese hand soap they had available.

I left the bathroom after about 20 minutes, sat down with the girlfriend and acted like everything was fine. Then a few minutes later, I noticed someone go into the toilet, he came out two seconds later with an angry, disgusted and horrified look on his face, and started shouting at one of the waitresses.

She informed others, and about five of them went in to see. They exited shaking their heads, with a look of disgust and disappointment. They then started scanning the restaurant, trying to identify the culprit.

We got served our food, and I'm sure the waitress who brought it over gave me an 'I know it was you' look, but that may have just been my paranoia.

I ate my burger. It was a good, although the fact that minutes before I'd just had half my arm submerged in a swamp of shit surprisingly only made it slightly less appealing.

The toilets remained out of order until we left. I tipped more generously that I'd done the whole holiday, and we left.

My shits continued for a few days after we landed. The worst case I've ever had.

Thank you for reading.
Click to expand...
Nice
 
SteveBlade said:
Oh, this is a shit story telling thread then now is it? Alright then.

I went to Albufeira just over a year ago for two weeks, during the last day of the holiday I developed a horrendous case of the shits.

I'd done a successful shit after breakfast at this point, as well as one moderately successful shit just before we checked out, so I thought that I'd be relatively safe.
Our flight wasn't until later in the evening, and we weren't getting picked up from the hotel until 4 or something, so we went out.

We did some shopping, then went to sit down for some food. I had a feeling inside me that was somewhere between hunger, sickness, and shit slowly moving through my system.

I decided it was hunger, so I ordered a big fuck off burger.

About five minutes after ordering, I got the urge...

I went to the toilets, and there was only one cubicle. Quite a horrific one too, no toilet seat, and the door was one of those that doesn't really isolate you. I don't know about you, but I like to shit in peace, but anyone over about 5 ft tall would have been able to peer over and watch me at work.

This is where mistakes started to be made.

I shat. The act was horrific. I stood up, wiped myself up, and flushed, but then I got the urge to go again. So I sat, this time I think there was even more. It was like a black tar was pouring out. So again, for what I thought would be the final time, I stood up and cleaned myself up. But no, my bowels called upon me once more, and again, more tar.

By this point I'd flushed twice, and a third was too much. The tonne of toilet paper I'd flushed, and the five tonnes of shit and liquid lead all came back, it was the devil's work, it was all swirling round like something out of a horror film.

I flushed again but fuck me some spilled out and I was panicking.Then I realise, no plunger was available, so I put my arm in to try and remove some of the debris. But after once attempt, I knew it wasn't going to cut it.

I left the cubicle in it's state, and disinfected my arm up until just past my elbow with the minimal amount of Portuguese hand soap they had available.

I left the bathroom after about 20 minutes, sat down with the girlfriend and acted like everything was fine. Then a few minutes later, I noticed someone go into the toilet, he came out two seconds later with an angry, disgusted and horrified look on his face, and started shouting at one of the waitresses.

She informed others, and about five of them went in to see. They exited shaking their heads, with a look of disgust and disappointment. They then started scanning the restaurant, trying to identify the culprit.

We got served our food, and I'm sure the waitress who brought it over gave me an 'I know it was you' look, but that may have just been my paranoia.

I ate my burger. It was a good, although the fact that minutes before I'd just had half my arm submerged in a swamp of shit surprisingly only made it slightly less appealing.

The toilets remained out of order until we left. I tipped more generously that I'd done the whole holiday, and we left.

My shits continued for a few days after we landed. The worst case I've ever had.

Thank you for reading.
Click to expand...
We've had plenty of shit threads on here but I remember a thread about shit a while ago?
It's one of my favourite subjects 😂
 



Akinbiyi said:
this no football in midweek thing is going to get boring very quickly...

So go on. Own up.

I for one haven’t at a professional ground but have at one or two Sunday league grounds where I’ve been playing.
Click to expand...

FFS have I bashed my head and woken up in pre-season again?
 
Anyone remember the “toilets” at Saltergate and Millmoor? If you had a full gas mask and hazmat suit on, you’d still be odds on for E-Coli!
 
I've snapped one off at most grounds. Mind you, I always carry five or six paper hankies in my back pocket, just in case there's no shitwad or as is in most cases, the supplied allocation is languishing behind the pan on the deck in a lake of fag-ends and piss, or some cunt has emptied or pissed all over the individual dispenser. Crawley was like this. You can't wipe your balloon knot on a programme these days either. Too shiny. (The pages, not my balloon-knot)

Last shit I had at a game was in the BLUT last year. I had to lean forward a bit just to keep the door shut which narrowed my nozzle somewhat and made it come out like dark brown, icing complete with nuts and sprinkles. Seen those Spanish churros? That, but not dipped in sugar, but certainly with ribs up the side.

At the Hudds/Wembley game, we were in that fucking Hades of a boozer (the Green Man?) and the queue for one dunny with ten thousand pissed up, marauding bastards was incredible. This led to me having a critical alarm status on my tea-towel holder and us exiting to find an alternate drop point. There was some sort of Bert-style gentlemen's club nearby which seemed full of Hudds fans and at first they wouldn't let me in. After pleading and explaining I was about to papper my kecks they did and I dashed upstairs, only to find the two traps engaged. Two minutes in and with some agitated, audible sighing and shuffling of feet and one became available and I just managed to get my belt and trousers down and it all fell out, like old boots from a loft hatch. I had to stand on the seat to get it all in. Even the twat next door commented, "Fuck me! That sounded good!" He was right. I felt like I'd run a marathon. Certainly I'd shat about twenty Marathons.

And that's my 'shit-at-football-grounds' experience. You did ask.

The worse place I have ever been was the ABC Bar in Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire, Western Africa in late 1993. It was a single cubicle, no door, facing another female, no-door cubicle opposite for the ladies. On the floor was one of those ridiculous squat pans favoured by them-there continentals. It was brim-full of liquefied shit, the colour of Caramac chocolate and from within, came ominous thick, belching bubbles, making the surface move and pop and smack like molten lava. As I looked in horror, I also noticed the walls were typically and predictably plastered in badly aimed anal hosings and for which today I have no credible explanation, the single, 60W clear-filament lightbulb hanging from bare wires from the ceiling had dried shit on it too. Someone still needs to tell me how you get your geometry aligned to allow your starfish to fire a gout of putrid bowel product upwards with enough velocity for it to catch something seven feet up there above lake cack. You either need to be doing a handstand (which, given the conditions, is ill-advised) or your shithole is like some or other steerable ovipositor. Or someone has just dipped their hand in this toxic sludge and cobbed it at the ceiling in a tribal offering of sorts.

When you see Ewan McGregor go into 'The Worst [TOILET] in Scotland' in Trainspotting, this was 'The Worst [TOILET] in the World'.

No, I didn't take a shit in it in the end. The horror of me lowering my testicles outward and underneath me and the lurking shitmonster I imagined blowing those bubbles made me quickly re-absorb my payload for a later excursion, possibly behind a skip on the way back to the ship.

pommpey
 
JackSUFC said:
Would rather shit myself than shit in the Kop bogs.
Click to expand...
Too right Jack back in the 70's and 80's the bogs at back of kop were just a sea of piss, in fact blokes didn't go in they stood against chain link fence and pissed coppers didn't say owt. There was no way to use a cubicle, not that you'd want to. I will admit I've pissed in the sink before now I remember in 89 we stopped at this pub on way to WBA walked in bar (no colours) and landlord said you lot can fuck off don't serve scum (football fans). There were about 20 of us lined up in his passage and pissed up the wall.
 
SteveBlade said:
Oh, this is a shit story telling thread then now is it? Alright then.

I went to Albufeira just over a year ago for two weeks, during the last day of the holiday I developed a horrendous case of the shits.

I'd done a successful shit after breakfast at this point, as well as one moderately successful shit just before we checked out, so I thought that I'd be relatively safe.
Our flight wasn't until later in the evening, and we weren't getting picked up from the hotel until 4 or something, so we went out.

We did some shopping, then went to sit down for some food. I had a feeling inside me that was somewhere between hunger, sickness, and shit slowly moving through my system.

I decided it was hunger, so I ordered a big fuck off burger.

About five minutes after ordering, I got the urge...

I went to the toilets, and there was only one cubicle. Quite a horrific one too, no toilet seat, and the door was one of those that doesn't really isolate you. I don't know about you, but I like to shit in peace, but anyone over about 5 ft tall would have been able to peer over and watch me at work.

This is where mistakes started to be made.

I shat. The act was horrific. I stood up, wiped myself up, and flushed, but then I got the urge to go again. So I sat, this time I think there was even more. It was like a black tar was pouring out. So again, for what I thought would be the final time, I stood up and cleaned myself up. But no, my bowels called upon me once more, and again, more tar.

By this point I'd flushed twice, and a third was too much. The tonne of toilet paper I'd flushed, and the five tonnes of shit and liquid lead all came back, it was the devil's work, it was all swirling round like something out of a horror film.

I flushed again but fuck me some spilled out and I was panicking.Then I realise, no plunger was available, so I put my arm in to try and remove some of the debris. But after once attempt, I knew it wasn't going to cut it.

I left the cubicle in it's state, and disinfected my arm up until just past my elbow with the minimal amount of Portuguese hand soap they had available.

I left the bathroom after about 20 minutes, sat down with the girlfriend and acted like everything was fine. Then a few minutes later, I noticed someone go into the toilet, he came out two seconds later with an angry, disgusted and horrified look on his face, and started shouting at one of the waitresses.

She informed others, and about five of them went in to see. They exited shaking their heads, with a look of disgust and disappointment. They then started scanning the restaurant, trying to identify the culprit.

We got served our food, and I'm sure the waitress who brought it over gave me an 'I know it was you' look, but that may have just been my paranoia.

I ate my burger. It was a good, although the fact that minutes before I'd just had half my arm submerged in a swamp of shit surprisingly only made it slightly less appealing.

The toilets remained out of order until we left. I tipped more generously that I'd done the whole holiday, and we left.

My shits continued for a few days after we landed. The worst case I've ever had.

Thank you for reading.
Click to expand...

pommpey said:
I've snapped one off at most grounds. Mind you, I always carry five or six paper hankies in my back pocket, just in case there's no shitwad or as is in most cases, the supplied allocation is languishing behind the pan on the deck in a lake of fag-ends and piss, or some cunt has emptied or pissed all over the individual dispenser. Crawley was like this. You can't wipe your balloon knot on a programme these days either. Too shiny. (The pages, not my balloon-knot)

Last shit I had at a game was in the BLUT last year. I had to lean forward a bit just to keep the door shut which narrowed my nozzle somewhat and made it come out like dark brown, icing complete with nuts and sprinkles. Seen those Spanish churros? That, but not dipped in sugar, but certainly with ribs up the side.

At the Hudds/Wembley game, we were in that fucking Hades of a boozer (the Green Man?) and the queue for one dunny with ten thousand pissed up, marauding bastards was incredible. This led to me having a critical alarm status on my tea-towel holder and us exiting to find an alternate drop point. There was some sort of Bert-style gentlemen's club nearby which seemed full of Hudds fans and at first they wouldn't let me in. After pleading and explaining I was about to papper my kecks they did and I dashed upstairs, only to find the two traps engaged. Two minutes in and with some agitated, audible sighing and shuffling of feet and one became available and I just managed to get my belt and trousers down and it all fell out, like old boots from a loft hatch. I had to stand on the seat to get it all in. Even the twat next door commented, "Fuck me! That sounded good!" He was right. I felt like I'd run a marathon. Certainly I'd shat about twenty Marathons.

And that's my 'shit-at-football-grounds' experience. You did ask.

The worse place I have ever been was the ABC Bar in Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire, Western Africa in late 1993. It was a single cubicle, no door, facing another female, no-door cubicle opposite for the ladies. On the floor was one of those ridiculous squat pans favoured by them-there continentals. It was brim-full of liquefied shit, the colour of Caramac chocolate and from within, came ominous thick, belching bubbles, making the surface move and pop and smack like molten lava. As I looked in horror, I also noticed the walls were typically and predictably plastered in badly aimed anal hosings and for which today I have no credible explanation, the single, 60W clear-filament lightbulb hanging from bare wires from the ceiling had dried shit on it too. Someone still needs to tell me how you get your geometry aligned to allow your starfish to fire a gout of putrid bowel product upwards with enough velocity for it to catch something seven feet up there above lake cack. You either need to be doing a handstand (which, given the conditions, is ill-advised) or your shithole is like some or other steerable ovipositor. Or someone has just dipped their hand in this toxic sludge and cobbed it at the ceiling in a tribal offering of sorts.

When you see Ewan McGregor go into 'The Worst [TOILET] in Scotland' in Trainspotting, this was 'The Worst [TOILET] in the World'.

No, I didn't take a shit in it in the end. The horror of me lowering my testicles outward and underneath me and the lurking shitmonster I imagined blowing those bubbles made me quickly re-absorb my payload for a later excursion, possibly behind a skip on the way back to the ship.

pommpey
Click to expand...

“Hemingway, Faulkner, Fitzgerald, Wharton, Orwell, Dickens, Plath, WB Yeats, Toni Morrison and Ezra ‘fucking’ Pound, your boys took a hell of a beating”.
Punts on this year’s Pulitzer now closed.

Given the outstanding literary merit on show above, worth contacting the club to see if this could become a regular feature in the (3 quid 50) match day programme? Where supporters have relevant previous experience at the visitors’ ground, a “They Crapped at Both” column would be a great way of whiling away 20 mins of Gaz Time between each half.
 
WP_20190811_12_03_01_Pro.jpg

Well at least we can have a dump in our neighbours seat.........
 
On nights at Drax power station. The contractors cabins where miles away, with no portaloo or anything.
So I went round the back of another contractors cabin and had a shit. (Well, you don’t shit on your own door step).
I had tissues, so cleaning up wasn’t a problem. When I got back to my own cabin, all the other guys where complaining about the smell. I told them I’d gone behind another cabin, but the smell wouldn’t go away. Eventually we got up to go back to work, and as the boilers were quite a distance away and it was cold, I decided to pull the hood of my boiler suit over my head. YEP. When I’d pulled my overalls and boiler suit down to have a shit. I’d shit in the hood and brought it back with me.
P.S no toilets or SHOWER. Fuck.
 
After the arsenal semi final loss, I may, or may not, have taken a shit in the middle of one of Sheffield busiest city centre streets.

Note to feds - should a cold-case of a similar nature exist in your database, this is all bravado for an internet forum, ok?
 
Jonboy60 said:
On nights at Drax power station. The contractors cabins where miles away, with no portaloo or anything.
So I went round the back of another contractors cabin and had a shit. (Well, you don’t shit on your own door step).
I had tissues, so cleaning up wasn’t a problem. When I got back to my own cabin, all the other guys where complaining about the smell. I told them I’d gone behind another cabin, but the smell wouldn’t go away. Eventually we got up to go back to work, and as the boilers were quite a distance away and it was cold, I decided to pull the hood of my boiler suit over my head. YEP. When I’d pulled my overalls and boiler suit down to have a shit. I’d shit in the hood and brought it back with me.
P.S no toilets or SHOWER. Fuck.
Click to expand...

Absolute class!!
 



pommpey said:
I've snapped one off at most grounds. Mind you, I always carry five or six paper hankies in my back pocket, just in case there's no shitwad or as is in most cases, the supplied allocation is languishing behind the pan on the deck in a lake of fag-ends and piss, or some cunt has emptied or pissed all over the individual dispenser. Crawley was like this. You can't wipe your balloon knot on a programme these days either. Too shiny. (The pages, not my balloon-knot)

Last shit I had at a game was in the BLUT last year. I had to lean forward a bit just to keep the door shut which narrowed my nozzle somewhat and made it come out like dark brown, icing complete with nuts and sprinkles. Seen those Spanish churros? That, but not dipped in sugar, but certainly with ribs up the side.

At the Hudds/Wembley game, we were in that fucking Hades of a boozer (the Green Man?) and the queue for one dunny with ten thousand pissed up, marauding bastards was incredible. This led to me having a critical alarm status on my tea-towel holder and us exiting to find an alternate drop point. There was some sort of Bert-style gentlemen's club nearby which seemed full of Hudds fans and at first they wouldn't let me in. After pleading and explaining I was about to papper my kecks they did and I dashed upstairs, only to find the two traps engaged. Two minutes in and with some agitated, audible sighing and shuffling of feet and one became available and I just managed to get my belt and trousers down and it all fell out, like old boots from a loft hatch. I had to stand on the seat to get it all in. Even the twat next door commented, "Fuck me! That sounded good!" He was right. I felt like I'd run a marathon. Certainly I'd shat about twenty Marathons.

And that's my 'shit-at-football-grounds' experience. You did ask.

The worse place I have ever been was the ABC Bar in Abidjan, Cote d'Ivoire, Western Africa in late 1993. It was a single cubicle, no door, facing another female, no-door cubicle opposite for the ladies. On the floor was one of those ridiculous squat pans favoured by them-there continentals. It was brim-full of liquefied shit, the colour of Caramac chocolate and from within, came ominous thick, belching bubbles, making the surface move and pop and smack like molten lava. As I looked in horror, I also noticed the walls were typically and predictably plastered in badly aimed anal hosings and for which today I have no credible explanation, the single, 60W clear-filament lightbulb hanging from bare wires from the ceiling had dried shit on it too. Someone still needs to tell me how you get your geometry aligned to allow your starfish to fire a gout of putrid bowel product upwards with enough velocity for it to catch something seven feet up there above lake cack. You either need to be doing a handstand (which, given the conditions, is ill-advised) or your shithole is like some or other steerable ovipositor. Or someone has just dipped their hand in this toxic sludge and cobbed it at the ceiling in a tribal offering of sorts.

When you see Ewan McGregor go into 'The Worst [TOILET] in Scotland' in Trainspotting, this was 'The Worst [TOILET] in the World'.

No, I didn't take a shit in it in the end. The horror of me lowering my testicles outward and underneath me and the lurking shitmonster I imagined blowing those bubbles made me quickly re-absorb my payload for a later excursion, possibly behind a skip on the way back to the ship.

pommpey
Click to expand...

So pommpey, are you going for all 92 grounds? Do you have to take a dump in a teams both old and new grounds if they have changed stadiums? This would be one hell of an achievement if it could be done.
 
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