EVERYONE! has a poo story ... EVERYONE! But this story of mine is one from a time past, a simpler time, a happier time. I think it was 25p to take a ride on the bus (and they didn't drive bus's like they do now, like coked up people smugglers on the precipice of the law) and you could actually buy 3 items from a shop and still have change from a quid.
Always a keen swimmer, even at an early age I could be found frolicking in the old H2O, I decided to pack myself off to the local swimming baths, growing up in Ireland where the closest local amenity is ALWAYS a pub and ALWAYS fucking miles away I found the proximity of our local pool too good to resist any time I had free time. So there I am, decked in Bermuda shorts and a shit eating grin that would make Amanda Holden look like a part timer I begin my aquatic adventure. It wasn't long into my splash sesh when the old trapdoor of my stomach received the first tentative probings of a brown delivery direct from the colon and so I jumped out of the pool, waded through the ankle high disinfectant and placed my perky posterior upon the porcelain receiver and began to send my faecal fax message.
The act itself took place without much ado, I dare say I shifted up the gears a smidge as I was keen to return to watery shenanigans, but as I finished laying my Fisher Price cable and reached over to the paper dispenser I felt a twinge of shock when I realised that the normal quilty tactile response from your average loo roll had been replaced with a slick and very smooth almost tracing paper like entity ... all in all this transition did little to stem the tide as I reasoned even in my infancy that this was probably just standard English swimming bath procedure and all English swimming pools used this paper. So on I ventured and took a handful of the stuff and began to introduce this new paper to my posterior, in hindsight and even in adulthood we normally accept that any situation made a new by the introduction of a new entity or variable should be greeted with a certain level of caution but "oh no" not me .... I had swimming to do ... so reaching down behind me and getting as close as I can to my little fruit bowl I bring the paper in and drag it back along the spine of my crevice - BUT(T) it doesn't stop there ... the combination of the slickness and smoothness of this new paper, the fervour in which I wiped as I wanted to return to the pool asap and the fact that I hadn't amended my technique to consider all these new variables I managed to collect the surplus cack from my offering and proceed to transfer it from the crack of my arse to various places along the small of my back ... it was the FUCKING PAPER!!! ITS TOO SMOOTH!!!
Panic washes over me, this is new, I have never (to my knowledge) smeared shit over myself in a public place without a legal guardian to take charge ... WHAT TO DO?? I reason running into the swimming pool and nonchalantly wiping it at the bottom of the pool, but the lifeguards would SURELY spot me, I then though "Showers" but again decided against this as I would want a shower when or however I managed to separate myself from the remnants of my breakfast. There was only one option I could think of, skulk back to my locker, which was only metres away, but I would have to do it with my back pressed against the wall smearing my shame over the locker room as I went. By the time I reached my locker only a minute of real time had past but by Christ did it feel like a lot longer mid smear, the locker room now at this stage looked like a holding cell for IRA dissidents who weren't keen on the arrangement. For my own personal development I am very glad that I managed to retrieve my towel and get into the shower before another human saw me do all this, but happier still that they bought my face of horror when I stepped out and pretended to see this dirty protest for the 1st time. Lesson learnt ... don't swim at the Northolt Swimarama.
haha brilliant!!
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