Shitty Snuff

Whilst I was at uni, my friend and myself got into the habit of doing snuff. On this occasion, being winter, we had a menthol one that looked just like a white powder...

We were both in a club pissed up, chatting when my mate suddenly says to me 'yeah, yeah...anyway I've just shat myself.'

Laughing we both go off to the toilet. My mate goes into a cubicle and starts cleaning himself up and using a broken bottle starts to cut off his shitridden pants.

Laughing outside the cubicle, I decide to have a bit of snuff. So there's me snorting white powder off my wrist - when 3 blokes walk in and see me. They start demanding I give them some 'coke' and things get a bit nasty when they dont believe its only snuff. A scuffle soon ensued, ending with my mate flinging open the cubicle door - standing there naked from the waist down, with shit on his legs, shit on his hands, a broken bottle in one hand and a pair of shitty pants in the other "Leave my f*cking mate alone you c*nts!!"

They did. Quickly. The expression of horror and fear on their faces was priceless.

in the sand

Ooh, almost forgot this one

My buddy Duke (how appropriate) told me the most horrendous and humiliating public shitting story I've ever heard. He was at a festival-type all day concert, but they had proper toilet facilities, not port-o-potties. And he had a kettle of volatile diarrhea brewing so he went and got in line for the crapper. It was a bathroom for a large venue so it had lots of urinals but also lots of toilet stalls, only they had no doors for some reason. So the place is packed to capacity and the line (queue) stretches out the door. So you have to stand there facing the row of occupied stalls waiting your turn, looking at people's backs if they're pissing or their genitals if they dared sit. Few dared. One by one people finish their business and walk out and the the next guy immediately takes his spot. So Duke's the next man, and the crapper right in front of the line opens up. He's noted the absence of stall doors by now, but there's nothing for it. He's going to explode. He's got to go. But as with every public-toilet-drunken-concert situation, the raise-the-seat-before-you-piss rule had been abandoned early on, so he's not about to sit on the piss-splattered thing. So he does the awkward hovering squat that I hear the womenfolk speak of now and then, sort of half leaning back and bracing one hand against the wall for balance. He's got his pants down to his knees, legs spread enough to keep them from falling all the way down, because the floor is a under minor flood of urine, and his man bits are on display for the line of guys waiting their turn. I guess none of us are accustomed to having to actually aim with our anuses and Duke was no exception. Because when he let rip, it didn't go down - - it went back - - in an explosive spray of giblets and gravy. The whole line of guys in front of him is recoiling in disgust and trying to look elsewhere and Duke's just frozen there in horror and helpless humiliation, thinking, "Sorry! Oh fuck, sorry!". And he wasn't finished. He tried to correct his aim but it was really no good in that squat position, so a couple more quick salvos went onto the wall and floor. He finishes, wipes, buttons up, takes a quick, pained look at his large mess and just has to leave. And he has to walk out right past the long line of guys who've just witnessed him paint the stall with his shit mud. It's hilarious now, but dear God, that must have been horrible.

Cacka

My friend once did a rather fine turd (even colour, good shape) the only distiguishing feature was that he had shat out a wasp, it was well imbedded in the cack, it was not a case of the wasp being in the wrong place at the wrong time, he had definately cacked it out. He was more than a little freaked out.
A different friend had to face his next door neighbours after a party at his dads house:
Neighbour: can you clear some shit off our lawn left by your mates.
Friend: How do you know its not your dogs
Neighbour: Dogs dont wipe their arse with tescos till receipts...

Take me