Have you ever soiled yourself as an adult?

[ChairmanDan]

Glad it all worked out okay. That sounded like a very stressful episode.

[mikehunt]

[cowpat]

These warm summer days remind me of my time spent in Kilkee in the 80s and very early 90s. It brings back the smell of piss mainly. The pollock holes etc used to have these kind of white little huts that always reeked of piss.
While we had a toilet in the mobile home, I sometimes wandered into the campsite toilets for a piss or shite if the mobile one was occupied.
The campsite toilets usually smelled of shit, shampoo and cleaning products. Not so much of piss, as they’d be cleaned everyday, but there’s always be someone in the traps firing away having a good auld Guinness clean out.
It also reminds me of when I was caught short on a hot summers day as a childer and had to go for a shit in the Burren.

[binkybarnes]

@cowpat

These warm summer days remind me of my time spent in Kilkee in the 80s and very early 90s. It brings back the smell of piss mainly. The pollock holes etc used to have these kind of white little huts that always reeked of piss.
While we had a toilet in the mobile home, I sometimes wandered into the campsite toilets for a piss or shite if the mobile one was occupied.
The campsite toilets usually smelled of shit, shampoo and cleaning products. Not so much of piss, as they’d be cleaned everyday, but there’s always be someone in the traps firing away having a good auld Guinness clean out.
It also reminds me of when I was caught short on a hot summers day as a childer and had to go for a shit in the Burren.

Heaneyesque!

[Declan_Moffat]

Chat GPT with the needful:

Summer Recall, Kilkee

In the manner of Seamus Heaney

These warm days coax the old ghosts home—

Kilkee, mid-eighties, early nineties—

where light fell thick on the sea’s rough comb

and holidays brewed in caravan kettles.

I mind the pollock holes, tidal and deep,

with white huts squatting like sheep on the rocks.

And the smell—by Christ—the piss of ages,

baked in by sun, held fast in breeze.

The mobile had its own jacks, sure,

but still I’d skulk to the campsite stalls,

dodging siblings and queue,

into tiled cathedrals of stink and suds.

Not so much piss there—cleaners came

with mops and bottles, morning ritual—

but always the echo of arse on pan,

some oul fella unloading last night’s stout.

And one day, caught short, trousers near bursting,

I found myself bent in the Burren’s hush,

stones hot, nowhere to hide,

and nature claiming her toll.

There’s memory in every stink and sunbeam—

the innocence of shite and shame,

a child’s small trespass into man’s

long, earthy apprenticeship.

[cowpat]

glorious @Declan_Moffat

[flattythehurdler]

It’s actually so good it’s a bit sad.
I think we should ban AI

[Tassotti]

AI is a bigger threat to humanity than Nuclear weapons.

[caulifloweredneanderthal]

Our poo-et laureate @cowpat

[MAFIA]

Shows how shite poetry actually is.
A machine can mimic it by flinging a few phrases together.

[TheUlteriorMotive]

AI can’t do that

[flattythehurdler]

I bet it can.

[neilld]

That’s a great piece. Wow.

[PhattPike]

@Ceist might have put the polish on it, but the substance is pure @cowpat.

[cowpat]

@Declan_Moffat

but always the echo of arse on pan,

some oul fella unloading last night’s stout.

pure poetry by AI.

[Kyle]

Signing in.

The kids had a vomiting bug Sunday and i took the brunt of it - literally.

Going to bed last night my stomach started playing up… i spent most of the night tossing and turning with a very dicky tummy and waiting for the vomit but it never came…neither did it today so simple maths meant if it wasn’t coming up it was going down…
I hopped in the shower a while ago ater finally being able to eat something- half a banana… and without thought i farted…

[mikehunt]

[Julio_Geordio]

@Bandage

I’ve been running through sickness since last midweek, the theory being it will sweat the bug out of my system & accelerate my recovery. Although I’ve been feeling unwell since last Wednesday & it’s now 5 runs later.

Touching my phone screen of “the runs”, I was trotting up the Howth Road earlier & felt my tummy rumbling. I wasn’t overly concerned initially as any combination of cramps, burps & farts can arise during physical exertion (cc @cowpat) & I continued into St Anne’s Park at the All Saints Road side.

But calm quickly turned to despair & a sudden realisation that this was different & I was very close to shitting myself. Okay, don’t panic - you’ve trained for hard moments like this, you read Steve Magness’ tweets, mental toughness is forged through how you react to these challenges. Do I crumble & shit myself in the middle of the park or do I find a solution through the panic & noise?

Right. I’m around 1.5km from the toilets at Olive’s tea rooms - that’s too far. I ran down the main avenue yesterday & saw the workers starting to dismantle the summer concert series signage, railings etc. The main avenue portaloos were gone too. What are my options now? Okay we parked in the tennis court car park before Raheny GAA Ógra on Saturday & there was a row of portaloos there for concert goers arriving/exiting from that side. I’m only 300m/400m from there. What if they’ve been loaded up & removed too? Well I’m not far from the wooded area & there’s probably enough cover there to take a stealthy shit.

So I gingerly jogged down past the astro pitch & around the corner up towards the tennis courts. Yes! The row of 5/6 portaloos are still there. Checked 1, not filthy but no bog roll. Checked 2, same story &, fuck sake, it’s the same story for all the rest. I considered continuing onto the woods where I could use leaves or something but concluded privacy & no bog roll was better than potentially being disturbed by a dog walker while wiping my hole with a tuft of grass. Plus I was wearing a base layer tight shorts & then running shorts (both dark coloured) so I figured it would mask any shit seepage.

I therefore crouched, paused, engaged my sphincter & emptied my bowels into the bowl in portaloo #2. Despite feeling weak, achy, runny nose, sore throat etc…it wasn’t a tame & scuttery effort like Declan Hannon’s penalty the other night. It was a significant & swirly affair, like one of those machines dispensing ice-cream into a cone to create a very large 99. But because I was so conscious of not touching the seat with my ass, I was obviously coming in from the side a bit. I looked down & this huge mound of shit was stuck onto the back inside of the bowl around two thirds the way up & practically trying to climb back out. I had a brief moment where I thought…let me just grab my phone out of my running belt so I can take a picture of this for my INTERNET friends on TFK…but I quickly realised that this would be a pathetic reflection of my life. So I decided to compose this lengthy essay about the event when I got home instead.

I whipped back up my base layer shorts, my running shorts & my running belt. I then flushed several times using the gear stick type flushing contraption you get in these portaloos. It emitted plenty of blue fluid & made some noises but it didn’t budge the massive mound of shite off the inner bowl. I didn’t feel any guilt & I consoled myself that there was nothing more to be done. I sheepishly exited the portaloos, restarted my watch & strode gracefully out of the tennis court car park & on into the aforementioned woods with a much lighter tummy but a shitty hole. I finished my run with a smile on my face, recognising that spiralling doesn’t achieve anything. Sometimes the magic happens after the panic & doubt.

You must have done some damage