It was probably for the "ew" factor. Either that or the jarhead in the pub was too shocked to think and left it by the toilet. Don't know about Richie, though.

P.S. Ha ha! I got the firts post again!

I am shit skinned DARK MEAT OWnz TYOU!!

TSV, I think the grossout factor is the most plausible explanation--you know, grossing out the next guy that comes along. If so, mission accomplished.

Well, at least the guy in the second example tried to hide the mess. True "turd terrorism" would have been for the messy shorts to be left on the door's coat hook; perhaps to remain undiscovered until you began your own download. THAT would have been nasty and would have posed you with quite a dilemma.

Not exactly the same, but there is a certain class of females that do this exact thing with used maxi pads. In high school I'd find them just left stuck to a toilet or on a wall. Perfectly good garbage cans in every stall and next to the sinks, but there was something that drove these girls to just leave them someplace obvious.
I find one like this every once in a while in college now.

Poogirl, whether red or brown, the exhibitionism factor does seem to be motivating these people. My next question would be: do these same people behave this way at home?

Yes incidents like this one are just plain gross...even though I am very open & shameless there are plenty out there who are very uptight about going into a public stall let alone having to confront a pair of shitty-whities...

This falls into the category of turd terrorism & I'm not in favor of it...interestingly, I don't mind seeing someoe's "leftovers" in the pot..one can easily get rid of that.

I don't know about seeing other people's poo in the pot. The other day my dad forgot to flush the toilet and I open the lid to a collection of blackened, shattered logs. It was really gross! Then again, I have left turds in the toilet for the shock factor myself.

I, too, have had this sort of experience. Twice. Once, in the restroom of a supermarket, I discovered a "stale poo" smell. Finding no source, for some odd reason I took off the toilet tank's lid. This was one of those odd toilets in a public restroom that has a tank, and like most of this breed it contained no water, just a pressurized water cylinder. This one, however, also contained tighty whities with poo inside. This was definately either turd terrorism, left for some future repairman to find (how many people regularly take off the cover?) or a shitter so shameful that, afraid his exiting the stall and making the quick two-foot step to the garbage would be interrupted by someone entering the room, decided they HAD to be hidden and did his very best to do so. Poor guy. My second episode took place in a Fred Meyer, sort of a compact version of a super Wal Mart. This particular location's restrooms start their day clean but, by the end, are usually pretty disgusting. One day I came in to find that some guy had not only filled the toilet so full of semi-solid poo that you couldn't see the water, but had first soiled his quite large (formerly) white briefs, and had left them, complete with semi-solid filling, on the floor in front of the toilet. This, I imagine, was just the end result of a really embarassing situation that probably left the person too shocked, stunned and scared to do much rational thinking besides "shorts off, poo in toilet, wipe, get out of here!". Again, poor guy.

It appears that we may have a more definitive answer to my question at the end of my article. Perhaps not simple grossness or exhibitionism but Shameful Shock Syndrome. Triple S. Perhaps this term should take its place in the dictionary of PR terminology we abide by on this site.

Poop for thought.

wat is all dis farting stuff, wats the fasination its jus gas n air lol

"Blackened, shattered logs" TSV, thanks for a BIG laugh! :-)

Glad to be of service. As for my dad, I made him clean the whole damn toilet for grossing me out that bad! It had to have been the nastiest thing I have seen since I clicked a link to ratemypoo.com.

Big Wiper's description of his summer camp at the age of twelve is really cool, 'crapping side by side, pants around our ankles, without a care in the world. Good times, good times'.

It reminds me of when I was 8, and went to stay with my pal at his granddad's country cottage for a week in rural England. By then there were indoor facilities - two toilets, where we weed, and a shower - and we had at least one shower every day.

BUT the outside 'outhouse' was still there, where my pal's dad and the boy next door sat with their trousers round their ankles, side by side, before catching the train to go to the grammar school.

His granddad STILL used it in the summer sometimes, because it made good compost for his garden (he grew delicious vegetables). The week we went to stay, my pal told him that we would use it, asking him to use the inside toilet for that week. My pal normally when he went to stay, sat on the inside one. He didn't like the idea of sitting in the outhouse on his own.

So each morning after we'd washed up for his granddad, off we would go into that building down the garden, and sit side by side. We still weren't very tall, and the fixed wooden plank with two holes in it, over which our bare posteriors sat, was higher than our more modern toilets at home. Consequently our legs didn't reach the floor when we sat down. Below our shins were our underpants, our jeans, our belts and our trainers.

It was really cool, and nothing else mattered in the world. The sounds were different - as there was no water below, only soil, there were no plops, just thuds - but we could hear each other.

After wiping our bottoms (with modern toilet paper) and pulling our trousers up, we got some soil out of a bucket kept there for that purpose, to cover up what we had done. Twice a week we would take out the buckets and empty them into this deep pit, which the next year the granddad would dig up and use for compost.

There was no smell, and no mess.

That was 26 years ago. When the granddad sold up and went into sheltered accommodation, he gave the toilet to a museum. I'm glad we had that experience. There was a time when EVERYBODY had to sit with their trousers down at the bottom of the garden, even in the depths of winter. Worse for females than males. Most of us men and boys only have to sit once a day - but for most of us it IS the coldest part of the day when we have to sit.

Sitting Wiper, I kinda wish you had submitted this to Dave as a story of its own. So much of historical and sociological interest in it. Very good read.

Yes, I have always had some interest in both history and sociology and have studied both to some extent.

That exercise I would only recommend with someone you felt easy with. We had open showers at school, and there was no part of each other's body which embarrassed us, and we had been to camps where the facilities were primitive, to say the least.

Several books have been published devoted to the 'Privvies' of different English counties.

There is another reason the nasty johns may have been left in the stall, and that may be someone pooped their pants and did not want to take the underwear with them, and they couldn't throw them out because there were other people in the bathroom. So, maybe the only place to leave the underwear was in the stall.

Perhaps the underwear abandonment, at least the hidden ones, has something to do with being abused as a child for soiling themselves. Very sad, indeed.

I'm a contractor in Texas and have a restroom in my warehouse. We often employ our "friends from across the border" and this is the restroom that they use. I understand that it is a habit because of there sewage systems in Mexico, but it seems to be a hard one to break. I occasionaly clean up this restroom and always find shit encrusted paper beside the toilet or in the garbage can. I've posted notes on the wall in spanish to flush, but it doesn't work. It seems to tie into the social aspect of peoples shitting and disposal techniques. Perhaps this stashed pair of punk panties was from a person that just didn't know what to do with them. Richie seemed to be suffering from S.S.S. as well.
Good story.

I must introduce myself.

I am a posh, intellectual 13-year old boy - an only child. My parents pay for me to go to an old-fashioned English boys’ grammar school. I have been brought up not to swear or use crude language. Most of my time on my computer is with the 13-15 age restrictions. (Toilet websites are accessible to my age-range, which surprises me.) I do a lot of computer work to help my parents with their small company, and for some schoolwork I need to get onto older websites. This week is a school holiday, and I am spending quite a bit of time on my computer.

I am a choirboy in the local parish church, and help our vicar to run a discussion group for teenagers in the church. I am not yet old enough to collect money from houses for charities, but I do put envelopes through the door.

At home we have a cleaner, shared with two other houses, and I am very lucky, though I am expected to tidy my bedroom. Like many teenagers, my room is cluttered.

Since the age of three, I have been able to look after myself in the toilet. Until I was four my bottom was checked to see if I had wiped it properly, and for a short time afterwards I needed help in tucking my shirt into my trousers.

I have my own toilet and shower, which is good. For school we are expected to have immaculate uniform, and we are checked regularly for this. So in the morning I wear an apron at breakfast to make sure that I do not spill anything on my spotless ironed white shirt or on my school regulation dark grey long trousers.

My parents often leave the house before I do, and when they have gone, after my breakfast I retire to the bathroom, to clean my teeth. I put some hot water into the washbasin, to wash my hands a few minutes later after I have done 'something else'. That way, I don't put any germs on the tap.

Then I unbuckle my belt, undo my clip and my zip and CAREFULLY pull my trousers down, making sure that I preserve my creases in the right place, and sit on the toilet.

Nobody disturbs me. I urinate first. And now, what a boy REALLY sits on the toilet for. I have never been constipated, and I cannot remember one day in my life when my bowels went on strike. They look after me, because I look after them. One squeeze and grunt, and ‘everything' slips out and splashes into the water. I have learned by trial and error to position my anal opening vertically above the water, so that I don't have to clean the inside of the toilet with the brush.

Sometimes I get up to see what I have done, but I always sit down to wipe my bottom. The washbasin is next to the toilet, and the water is now cool enough to wash my hands. My trousers are still round my ankles, so as not to get any germs on them. Still sitting on the toilet, I turn my body round 45 degrees to wash my hands. After drying them with a towel, I press the flushing handle, and put the seat and lid down. I pull my trousers up, put my blazer on and check myself in the mirror. Then I get my school rucksack and off I go to meet my friend for our 'bus (three quarters of an hour‘s journey).

I have never had to sit on a school toilet, but I always carry some tissues with me. The school has a good reputation. We have good teachers and they care about us. Many boys go to good universities. But the toilet floors are dreadful and pulling your trousers down could make them filthy. What would you tell the school matron if she asked why they were dirty?

On personal matters I think I am TOO reserved with my friends. I have never seen another boy sitting on the toilet, and no other boy has seen me. The friend I go to school with is the eldest of a fairly large family - he has 2 sisters and 4 brothers, and takes his share of nappy changing, toileting and bathing the boys. He isn’t proud. A few weeks ago he told me when we got off the ‘bus that he hadn’t had time to sit on the toilet, and would have to go when he got to school. He didn’t blush, but I did. We rarely go to the urinals first thing (unless we had an extra cup of tea at breakfast!) There was only one cubicle door not closed. A number of boys have a long journey, leaving home much earlier than we do. They have no alternative but to use the school toilets for their ‘morning-sit‘. I looked after my friend's bag while he went in. As there was no paper, I gave him some tissue. Needless to say, there was no soap to wash his hands, but he just rinsed them with plain water. I noticed that some boys had their own soap. He said he just managed to keep his trousers from touching the floor. We are having our school toilet block modernised during the Summer holidays this year. There are rumours that they were below legal standard.

I liked reading this ’forum’, about the boys sitting side by side in full view of each other. I have seen those in museums. This communal action must bring about real companionship.

In my last paragraph, it looks as if I had seen boys sitting on toilets in museums. I was referring to the 2 and 3 seater toilets.

Hello, Bare-Cheek Jon. What an interesting piece of writing you have given us here! Your account of your life so far regarding toilet habits is very informative, giving us some insight into such customs in the UK. You write well enough that the entire post above could have been submitted to Dave, our webmaster and founder, as an article in its own right.

Here on the website we have many discussions about what it means to be either Shameful or Shameless in the conduct of one's toilet habits, and it is the principal theme of PoopReport.com

Please continue to visit PoopReport and contribute your opinions and experiences. You will find an open and accepting forum of people here from all over the world.

Hello, 'The Big Wiper'. I am pleased that you liked my story.

Last week, we had two days off school on Thursday and Friday, for the teachers to have training and meetings. We do that every year.

My friend Dominic asked my parents if I could go and stay with them from Wednesday night until Sunday morning at their house. My parents said 'Yes'. He told me that it would be very different from my house, where I have a bathroom all to myself in the mornings.

His parents have let him have a bedroom all to himself so that he can concentrate on his school work and his little brothers and sisters are not allowed to go in when he is studying. They put another bed in his room, and we enjoyed talking in bed.

But in the mornings he does not have peace like I do. The boys wander in and out of the bathroom which they all share - there is no lock on the door - without knocking.

Dominic and I had our shower together - we have never been bothered about seeing - and comparing - each others' bodies, along with the other boys during open showers after school games.

After breakfast at his house, he had to help the small boys get ready for their play-schools. They usually sit on their potties while he sits on the toilet, and he asked me if I would like to watch, and I said 'OK' - a new experience for me.

He thought that I should learn how to wipe small boys - something I had never done. When they said 'I've finished, Dominic', he told them to try again to see if they could do some more. Then they got up off their potties, and stood with their bottoms facing him while he was still on the toilet himself.

He gently separated one cheek, and wiped them clean, putting the paper inside the toilet. Then when they had pulled up their trousers, he tucked their shirts in properly. Then he wiped himself, gathered up their potties, and emptied them down the toilet, and flushed away three loads. Then off they went to play-school.

The other part of my 'education' was to let him see ME on the toilet - the first time another boy had seen me.

The two small boys became friendly with me, and one of them said 'Jonathan do you sit on the toilet'. I said 'Yes', and he said 'Can I see you?'

Well, next morning, Dominic and I agreed that (a) they would be on their potties while I was on the toilet, and (b) that I would wipe them. That happened for the other days when I was there, until on the Sunday morning I went off to my church and Dominic and his went off to their church.

So you see, I am becoming a bit more shameless.

Bare-Cheek John - You are making a very contribution to this forum and you are still very young.

Congratulations on being a bit more shameless. I think you said that you were an only child. You have never wiped another child, and so when you went to stay with your friend Dominic, you learned to wipe the bottoms of his little brothers. You seem to have the right technique.

I am one of those people who can't wipe his own bottom standing up. BUT it isn't easy to wipe a small child sitting on a potty. You have to bend down too far, unless they are in a high chair with a potty seat. But I have always believed that children should go to the toilet in the toilet, so to speak.

This means it is a long way to bend down to wipe them. So I always made them stand up to be wiped, while I was sitting on the toilet myself, either with my own trousers down if they needed to be down, or just sitting on the sit because I was then at the right level for their bottoms. Your friend Dominic has taught you the right technique in separating gently the little boy's buttock before wiping.

But there is one thing you did not mention, which you may have done. Your other posts show that you are very particular with washing your hands. You should never touch your own bottom when it has touched somebody else's without washing your hands (or vice versa).

I taught my older son how to wipe his little brother, but insisted that he washed his hands before wiping his own bottom (they usually sat together before the little one could sit on the toilet and do his own wiping.)

Your friend is to be commended for what he does for his little brothers before going on a long journey to school.

I did it for my younger brother but (a)there were only 2 of us and (b) I didn't have a long journey to school.

When i was in 7th grade, i had to poop.
i was on the bus and couldnt go. i figured i could just poop my briefs! so i did.

I wonder where Richie is now and if he still engages in such turd terrorism. Better call Homeland Security

Happy trails,
L. Wrong
Chairman & CEO, PPK Industries