I have more glamorous globe-trotting tales with which to regale you.

Yesterday morning, I was taking a leisurely – though urgent – poo in Bologne airport when someone in another trap flushed their toilet. At it flushed, sustained flecks of water from my own pan shot upwards towards my sallow, hair-specked buttocks. I hadn’t yet finished and for the ensuing five or so minutes, every time a toilet flushed, I was splattered with fecal-infested water.

It pretty much ruined my entire day :-(

Is this an Italian thing, or just bad plumbing?

This is animal behaviour.

I blame the funky smelling orange juice served by BA.

Rather in an airport than on a plane, though, surely?

If you can't control your bowels for a few hours you should see a doctor.

Did you bind yourself up with Kaolin and morphine or something?

Do you people have no control? Do you simply **** where you stand?

Out out, as in bang on it out.

I had to run off a bus in Stamford Hill once such was the uncontrollable urge.

I was reading about the death of Bishop Arius (of Arian heresy fame). He suffered that well-known oxymoron 'a violent relaxation of the bowels' and shat his own innards out.

Quote:

It was then Saturday, and Arius was expecting to assemble with the church on the day following: but divine retribution overtook his daring criminalities. For going out of the imperial palace, attended by a crowd of Eusebian partisans like guards, he paraded proudly through the midst of the city, attracting the notice of all the people. As he approached the place called Constantine’s Forum, where the column of porphyry is erected, a terror arising from the remorse of conscience seized Arius, and with the terror a violent relaxation of the bowels: he therefore enquired whether there was a convenient bathroom nearby, and being directed to the back of Constantine’s Forum, he hastened thither. Soon after a faintness came over him, and together with the evacuations his bowels protruded, followed by a copious hemorrhage, and the descent of the smaller intestines: moreover portions of his spleen and liver were brought off in the effusion of blood, so that he almost immediately died. The scene of this catastrophe still is shown at Constantinople, as I have said, behind the shambles in the colonnade: and by persons going by pointing the finger at the place, there is a perpetual remembrance preserved of this extraordinary kind of death. The Ecclesiastical Histories of Socrates Scholasticus

Orthodox Jews look on - possibly saying 'Oy vey!'

and therefore retain some control over my sphincter :shrug:

Perhaps you could ask for a Joanna Lumley?

It's just a little willpower.

I mean I know he posited that Christ was junior to God and not of the same substance in the Trinity, but I don't think anyone ever said anything about his loving the sodomy.

My choice was simple, run or **** my pants on the top deck of the bus from Dalston.

There's got to be a reason.

Like our Irish friend found out on the bus, abuse your rectum at your peril.

Safeway?

Destroyed the place and then to add further insult to injury had to walk the whole way back home.

A powerful combination of multi-substance abuse the day before. Blimey.

Dont let these posh boys try and fool you that they have superior sphincter control, they spent most of their childhood with their holiest of holys being the exclusive property of Cholmeny-Fortnum, the head prefect.

http://old.disappointment.com/randomacts/soiling/bensstory.h tm

Dirty poof.

Punk / skinhead perhaps.

it's the soiling yourself in public that I find rather off putting.

that and having a nipsy like a welly top.