The Soothing Virtues of Nivea Cold Cream

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In my salad days, I spent a lot of time in Sheffield (which, for the information of you Americans, is an industrial city in the north of England). It was my frequent pleasure to get beastly drunk on the fine local ale, followed by a curry on the way home. However, when one is in the company of friends in a similar state of inebriation, a certain amount of ritualistic posturing is expected; and should someone shout "Compulsory vinders!" when a curry was proposed, then everyone had to consume a curry of at least Vindaloo strength or suffer derisory accusations of effeminacy or homosexuality.

The local Indian restaurant was used to us appearing at about one AM, when most restaurants had already closed. But curry-houses know their market, and if it wasn't for drunken young men, they'd go out of business. Because of this they usually accommodated us, no doubt finding us English idiots amusing.

Tthere is a scale of curry hotness. And although there are many variations of curry, some of equally varying strength, it goes like this in general:


  • Korma -- mild

  • Curry -- medium spicy
  • Madras -- hot
  • Vindaloo -- very hot
  • Tindaloo (rarely seen) -- Very, very hot indeed
  • Phal -- Fucking hell, I've just swallowed magma
  • For most Englishmen, a Vindaloo is itself an endurance test, as the Anglican palate is used to blander food. But on this occasion, a bellyful of Old Peculiar had a detrimental effect on my sanity; and when we staggered to the restaurant they agreed to cook for us, despite the fact that they had officially closed for the night. Someone shouted "Compulsory vinders!" so, while guzzling the Cobra beer, everyone ordered vindaloo, except me. I was determined to prove my toughness. In the typically English way, I asked the waiter if they had anything hotter than a Phal, to great shouts and cheering from the chaps.

    A Phal is ridiculously hot, and usually, when an Englishman orders one, it's to impress his friends. If one does, the staff will often mutter amongst themselves in Hindustani something along the lines of, "Here we go, Ranjit, we've got another one of the stupid bastards…"

    The waiter said they hadn't, but the cook was nearby and gestured to him to come over. They chatted for a moment or two and returned, smiling. I should have known by the chuckle of the waiter that I was about to be punished for being an ignorant drunken English wanker with no more of an appreciation of good food than a pig (Guilty m'lud!).

    "Well sir," he said, "it's not on the menu, but our chef has agreed to cook for you a special Chicken Phal XXX. We will essentially make you a chicken Phal, but we will put in three times as many of the very hottest spices as we would do normally for such a dish, and include the chilli seeds. Would that be acceptable?"

    I should have known better, but the lads were cheering and I couldn't lose face. So as I agreed, with a nod and a smile the waiter and chef went into the kitchen.

    After initial poppadoms and another beer or two, we were all getting raucous and drumming on the table like arseholes. The waiter brought the food. When he put mine in front of me with a snigger, it was bright red -- and I mean lurid red -- as opposed to everyone else's orangey-brown, and steaming. I looked upon it with trepidation. My chum Craig sensed my foreboding anxiety. Craig, I should add, comes from Manchester and is so hardened to curry that he scoffs a vindaloo without breaking a sweat. He asked to dip his poppodom into my dish for a sample and of course I assented.

    He dipped for the smallest possible bit of sauce and put it in his mouth. All was well for a few seconds, but then he went red, shouted "F-f-fucking hell…" and reached desperately for his beer, swallowing it in its entirety before complaining that his mouth was on fire. He then grabbed great spoonfuls of rice to stuff in his mouth, trying to calm the burn. When he had calmed down sufficiently, and I had still not tasted the meal in front of me, he admitted it was the hottest thing he'd ever known. Sweating profusely, he suggested that I don't eat it under any circumstances. Indeed, he began eating his own vindaloo and complained that he could not taste a thing because his mouth was still stinging from my curry.

    However, since one cannot look like a coward in front of one's peers, or the waiter and chef who were now sitting at the bar, looking at us, and grinning, I dug in.

    There is a technique for eating a really hot curry, and it's SPEED. It must spend as little time in the mouth as possible, so chewing is out. One must ignore the rice and tackle the curry only, swallowing as much of it as one can as quickly as possible, preferably without pausing for breath, and then calm the tongue down with rice and lager. NEVER have a mouthful and then a sip of drink, as you'll make it worse.

    I shovelled in the first spoonful, swallowed quickly, and spooned more into my mouth. As the seconds passed and each mouthful descended, the burn in my mouth felt like swallowing molten steel in a sauce made from drain cleaner. I was almost spasming in pain, turned bright red while sweat poured from me, but I held my breath and shovelled on. After a while my mouth went numb to all sensations other than burning.

    I swallowed the last of it, my whole body shaking as the waiter sat there laughing his arse off, filled my mouth with rice, which was also swallowed without mastication, and eventually drained my beer. The waiter brought me another on the house but I could barely touch it, as my guts were doing the polka, rebelling like an army of partisans against a brutal invader; and I couldn't form words, as my red-hot mouth failed to work. I was actually weeping, but the sweat helped disguise it.

    Feeling guilty at my discomfort, the waiter brought me some complimentary ice cream to calm my palate. I must admit it helped greatly, but I felt sick and daren't vomit. I knew that if I did, it would burn coming out and probably get up my nose too, which would make for a very uncomfortable night.

    Eventually we went back home to the lads' shared house where I was staying that weekend; and, feeling a little calmer (and a curry master), I settled into a troubled sleep, fearing that when the curry emerged, it would sting like fuck.

    I woke up with a tremendous pressure in my bowel. "Oh no!" I feared. "This is going to be hell…"

    With caution, I sat on the toilet. A vast, sloppy, beery turd emerged. It was slightly spicy and had a twang of heat to it, but was nothing out of the ordinary for a post-curry shite, and I smiled as the last few inches descended into the bowl. My arsehole closed easily. I wiped normally and was smugly pleased with myself, vowing to have another curry just like it next time, to prove that I'm the not the sort of guy to be fucked with. I finished it off with a hot and evil smelling fart, but figured that if this was a 'curry-arse' then I must be the hardest bastard around, because I was showing no ill effects whatsoever.

    I went downstairs, made tea, and flicked on the TV feeling very smug. All was well for perhaps fifteen minutes, despite a few sulphurous farts in that time -- this was not unusual after a night of drinking. But suddenly my innards were gripped with devastating pressure and pain as if a diarrhoea attack was imminent.

    That first poo had lulled me in to a false sense of security, and my guts spasmed in protest. I could feel the heat inside my arse as if trying to clench a hot coal with my anus, and I ran upstairs, lowering my jeans as I went. The pressure became too much, with hot shit beginning to leak out before I'd made it to the toilet. I sat down with a thud -- not a second too soon -- and my bowels were projectile vomiting.

    I had no control over the quivering expulsive spasms as wave after wave of watery red-hot lava exploded from my arse. And then, the heat increased. It began with an eye-watering burn about twenty seconds after my anus opened fully. I felt like I'd been buggered with a dead porcupine and someone was holding a blowtorch against my hoop, cooking it like a char-grilled squid ring.

    I screamed. I screamed louder than I ever had before as the heat spread throughout my bowels and the spasms kept coming, sometimes with shit being coughed out by my choking quivering Khyber, sometimes not, and I woke the rest of the house. I sat whining and shaking on the toilet, unable to get up, as my legs failed to answer. My belly rumbled, I farted out an enormous moist hot pouch of arse gas, and another final spasm came over my guts as my bowels spewed another scorcher.

    It was at this point that Craig bust open the door to see what the fuck was going on and why I was crying with agony. Suffice to say, he understood why. Being a decent chap, he decided not to give me the I told you so… lecture; even despite the appalling stench, he was sufficiently enabled to help me stand up.

    My arse was in agony and hanging open like the mouth of a thirsty dog, completely unable to close. Touching it with toilet paper to wipe away the shit -- shit which had smeared itself across my buttocks and on the toilet seat as I writhed in agony -- was more pain than I could bear. I could do no more than rest the backs of my thighs on the bath with my arse hanging over and use the shower attachment to hose my rear end with cold water. Bliss.

    Eventually I left the bathroom and Craig presented me with a tub of Nivea. As tender as my bum was, I still dabbed it on my o-ring while wincing in pain and grinding my teeth; and I have to say, it was like magic. The Nivea cooled it down immediately to a dull sting. Although I had another molten hot shit an hour later, similarly painful but not quite as traumatic, the knowledge that that cream was able to sooth my cares away made it bearable.

    Although one cannot do anything about the initial burn, I have found that Nivea cream works beautifully at calming the nipsy after a poo with high chili content, particularly if it's been in the fridge (the cream -- not the poo). One has to apply a fair bit AND smear it inside, but it enables one to carry on with one's day instead of hobbling back to one's desk, whimpering like a squashed puppy with a hole too traumatised to stay shut.

    That afternoon, after my bowels had calmed, I had a date with a lass named Sue, a date which I should have cancelled but didn't. I sat there in the pub with her, trying to suppress a hot spicy fart while chatting, which is a difficult thing to do at the best of times. But with my arse being in its dilapidated state, it was next to impossible. I apologised for rather embarrassingly creating a stinky atmosphere, but being a fairly sporting lady, she seemed to find it mildly amusing. "Result!" I thought. "A chick who digs farting and shitting!" So I told her of my experience the previous night and that morning, which she listened to with the odd look of disgust, but as I was getting to the end of my tale -- extolling the virtues of Nivea and suggesting she tried it herself if suffering ‘curry arse' in future -- my bowels started to move again.

    "I'll be right back…" I told her, and hurried off to the bathroom. Although still uncomfortably hot and stinging, I waddled back into the bar area twenty minutes later, and was dismayed (but not altogether surprised) to discover that she'd disappeared. I never heard from her again.

    79 Comments on "The Soothing Virtues of Nivea Cold Cream"

    Thunderbox's picture
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    Great story, Scumbag. I`ve had many sessions on Old Peculiar but was always too scared to try the ring-stinger curries.

    I sprayed coffee over the monitor at work reading this - "My arse was in agony and hanging open like the mouth of a thirsty dog"

    The voice of sanity

    C Everett Poop's picture
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    Great story and for your info, us unsophisticated Yanks have heard of Sheffield. We all have stainless steel items and saw "The Full Monty".

    I'm surprised the chick didn't stick around. After all, you just farted all over her, told her you had the shits, put cold cream on your asshole and then went to dump another load. That's the height of romance here in the states.

    Well done!

    Dump Truck's picture
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    Excellent story Scumbag! My coworkers were wondering what in the hell was so damned funny. I have never had the pleasure of Indian curry, but in my area there are plenty of Thai restaurants. My favorite is panang beef curry, and I order it four star (Thai hot). While it is enough to rupture your eardrums, I don't think it could hold a candle to what you had.

    ChiefThunderbutt's picture
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    Move over Thomas Hardy, make room Charles Dickens, you are being replaced Somerset Maughan, even the Bard of Avon must move aside for the newest literary sensation from the British Isles. I predict that the works of El Scumbag will soon be taught in every country of the world where English holds sway as the language of scholars. Wonderful story which was richly deserving of front page display.
    _______
    Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

    How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door you're on!

    El Scumbag's picture
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    I say! Thank you Chief! From the best Poopreporter of the last twelve months that is high praise indeed. There are several others in 'pending' which you should hopefully find similarly efficacious to your morning amusement. I may even pilfer some of my comments from elsewhere on this site and send them to Dave, as they're stories in their own right.

    prarie doggin's picture
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    Most excellent story sir. I was delighted you finally came out onto the front page. I'm sure you will be in the running to topple the current PR of the year (which is not me by the way). Maybe next time you should try a pre-emptive
    swipe of Nivea. Like.... while you're eating.

    Just a note of caution should you travel to the US Mr. Scumbag. What you did to that young lady is considered a marriage proposal in some of our southern states.

    phatmanxxl's picture
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    Awsome story! I could almost feel your pain, some parts i was laughing out loud also. I had a few bouts with some hot salsas but im afraid to touch what you had. You are definantly a trooper, this story is A++.

    Leaky Bowel King's picture
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    I had a similar bout with what I'm assuming was curry. When I first came to college I had a friend who was eating sushi and he had this green pasty shit on his plate that he said was really good and I should try. This is wheni first really began being super sensitive to foods before I had my gall bladder removed, and I eat a lot of spic foods, but this shit was like super hot paint thinner. And as soon as I swallowed it, my stomach turned, I doubled over in pain and had to sprint to the bathroom before I shit a steaming hot load.

    Leaky Bowel King's picture
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    And I'm guessing you didn't eat enough icecream afterwards, scumbag, to cool you after the hot shits. That's what I learned from an early age, add cold icecream to your hot foods so that when the first hot food passes thru, the cold ice cream will follow.

    prarie doggin's picture
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    LBK, that green stuff is wasabi, and it is quite hot. By the way, if you ever wondered what would happen if you snorted the dry wasabi powder, just google for it. It's hilarious and frightening at the same time.

    Leaky Bowel King's picture
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    Hmmm, I'm not real big on snorting stuff PD, and as hot as wasabi was going down the throat I'd hate to see how hot it'd be going up the nose. I always seem to get a nosefull of crushed red pepper when I cook spaghetti or burritoes or hamburgers and that burns like hell too. Now for real pain, dips your hands in some habanero sauce and go wipe your ass. You'll cry for days and your asshole closes up and won't open for absolutely no reason at all!!!

    ChiefThunderbutt's picture
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    LBK.......For the very hottest wasabi go to Japan, or an upscale American sushi place, and try it freshly grated. For a truly macho bathroom experience take a leak while your hands are covered with habanero residue...an eye opening experience that gives new meaning to the words "hot tamale".
    _______
    Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

    How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door you're on!

    Dildo Baggins's picture
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    Oh my God!! I actually had to wipe a tear running down my cheek. The whole tale was spectacular, but when you threw in the "buggered with a dead porcupine" I lost it. My dear sir, I humbly bow to you._______
    Sorry---I farted!!

    Look out for Number 1, but don't step in Number2

    The Thunderous Crapper 63's picture
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    Great story HOT FARTS are the WORST!
    _______
    AHHHHHEMMMMMMMMMM JUST CLEARING MY THROAT!! ;)

    AHHHHHEMMMMMMMMMM JUST CLEARING MY THROAT!! ;)

    ChiefThunderbutt's picture
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    PD......I Googled "snorting wasabi" and was amazed at the stupidity of some people. I love the taste and, when I was in Japan, used to ask the sushi chefs to put a little extra on my order. Many a time I have leapt to my feet and placed both hands on my scalp to keep my head from blowing up. I would happily munch away with tears streaming down my face, but you could not have paid me enough to try snorting it.

    My dentist, who is a sushi beginner, said his wife thought it was guacamole and ate a lump of it straight. Her response was immediate, she lept to her feet, said "my God I think I just swallowed gasoline", and rushed to the bathroom.
    _______
    Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

    How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door you're on!

    Dump Truck's picture
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    Chief...No thanks on the macho bathroom experience. Been there, done that. I wear latex gloves now when chopping peppers

    ChiefThunderbutt's picture
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    Wise thing to do Dump Truck. One case of habanero schlong in a lifetime usually cures us forever.
    _______
    Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

    How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door you're on!

    prarie doggin's picture
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    I was watching a show the other night called I believe "Mark and Olly", who go to extremes to live with wild tribes all over the world. Upon arriving at one tribe, they were threatened with death, but managed to calm the men down by agreeing to eat boiled monkey feet. As they were trying to snarf them down, the translator caught on that it was a joke (the natives never ate monkey feet), and the chief was then overheard saying "let's shove hot peppers up their asses next". I think I would have preferred death.

    pnuttycorn's picture
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    Wow El scum you are a hero in my book. A drunken crazy hero, but a hero none the less.
    Here in the states we have a show called Man VS. Food. The premise is this guy attemps to eat things like humongus burgers, giganto pizzas, usually the restaurant is famous for whatever this thing is and you get it for free if you finish it and a T shirt. Usually there is a time limit too.
    The last one I saw he had to eat a plate of Phal curry, and he watched the cook make it, and the cook had to wear a MASK just tp cook this lethal curry. Funny thing was, he started to sweat and took the napkin he used to wipe his mouth and mopped the sweat off his face(and eyes) with it. OUCH!!! Poor bastard. He finished it though. I don't think he got any ice cream. Next he has to eat 180 oysters at either the Acme oyster house in New Orleans or Wenzell's in mobile Alabama, can't remeber. I love oysters, I might could do that.
    But yeah GREAT story, and a great tip!

    Leaky Bowel King's picture
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    I think I'll pass on ever eating wasabi ever again. It tasted like horseradish, which tastes like paint thinner anyways. That was the grossest, nastiest thing I'd ever eaten. If I was on fear factor and had to choose between deer dick, monkey feet, or wasabi, I'd choose monkey feet. And I have also touched my dick with pepper juice on my hands, I have taken out or put in a contact lense after handling pepper juice, among other things. As much as I love peppers of all kinds, I have spent many of my last 21 years trying not to get killed by them.

    ChiefThunderbutt's picture
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    LBK...You are correct when you compare wasabi with horseradish, they are both among my favorite flavoring. The Japanese make a snack out of roasted green peas and wasabi that is wonderfully tasty with beer.

    Wasabi (Japanese: わさび,ワサビ , 山葵 (originally written 和佐比); Wasabia japonica , Cochlearia wasabi, or Eutrema japonica) is a member of the Brassicaceae family, which includes cabbages, horseradish and mustard. Known as "Japanese horseradish", its root is used as a spice and has an extremely strong flavor. Its hotness is more akin to that of a hot mustard than the capsaicin in a chili pepper, producing vapors that irritate the nasal passages more than the tongue. The plant grows naturally along stream beds in mountain river valleys in Japan. There are also other species used, such as W. koreana, and W. tetsuigi. The two main cultivars in the marketplace are W. japonica cv. 'Daruma' and cv. 'Mazuma', but there are many others.


    _______
    Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

    How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door you're on!

    Mrs. Mad Crapper's picture
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    I can't believe she left! If she didn't understand and stick around then she wasn't the one. Glad to see you survived your mistake of curry. I'm looking forward to many more craptastic tales from you.
    _______
    Earth, insane asylum for the universe.

    Earth, insane asylum for the universe.

    Leaky Bowel King's picture
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    Hey chief, thanks for the history of paint thinner, I mean wasabi. I learned a lot of info that I didn't know, and don't know if I ever will use again, but if that ever comes up on who wants to be a millionaire, or if I run for president, I'll be prepared.

    daphne's picture
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    I love wasabi, especially on sushi, but I've never understood the act of eating something that doesn't taste good or hurts you. I like wasabi because it, with the ginger, makes the sushi taste wonderful. It must be a "man thing". Women go to the bathroom in groups, and men eat stuff that could take the finish off of a hardwood floor. It's one of the mysteries of life that should just be left alone.

    Chief, please tell me how you typed those Japanese symbols!

    _______
    .....hugging bunnies since 1969
    www.daphneszoo.com

    .....hugging bunnies since 1969
    www.daphneszoo.com

    ChiliKahKah's picture
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    Dear Scum:

    Thanks for a great laugh....now let's hear more about the foods you have consumed after a good bit of beer... perhaps Fish and Shits.

    sittingpretty's picture
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    I love wasabi and horseradish. But I don't think they are hotter than the hot stuff my father used to put on the thumb I sucked while I was sleeping. Nothing took the fire off my thumb or my mouth. It really hurt badly and made me cry.
    _______
    ...And their flesh like dung. Zeph. 1:17

    ...And their flesh like dung. Zeph. 1:17

    Gaseous Glay's picture
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    I thought that I had become completely jaded with poop stories but this one was great. I laughed like it was the first time that I'd ever been on PoopReport. You Brits do seem to have tremendous bowel control though. Whatever you eat, your poop reports seldom end in soiled pants. Keep drinking and keep reporting!

    Maximus Poopius's picture
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    Excellent story.

    After reading the heading I thought it would just say something about how you'd found Nivea to be soothing on a sore ring.

    The resulting tale was superb and brought back plenty of memories to this ex pat who can't get a decent Indian meal in Australia.

    Thanks for your story of woe!

    I miss similarly spent weekends at our local tandoori after closing time..... I don't miss the ring of fire though!

    ChiefThunderbutt's picture
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    Daphne.....I didn't really type the Japanese kanji and Katakana symbols, I did a copy and paste and my new computer included the symbols. Since they looked neat I left them in. My wife confirmed that they were authentic. My old computer would have shown them as sguares or just meaningless, visual gibberish.
    _______
    Eat chilies and feel the burn!!

    How long a minute is depends on what side of the bathroom door you're on!

    Tommy Boy's picture
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    Great story El Scumbag!!!!! I think the most hilarious part was "I felt like I'd been buggered with a dead porcupine and someone was holding a blowtorch against my hoop, cooking it like a char-grilled squid ring. "

    hahahahahahahahahahahag!!!!!!!!!!!!

    _______
    Piping hot! Ass-magma! DEMON SHIT!!

    Piping hot! Ass-magma! DEMON SHIT!!

    phatmanxxl's picture
    Comment Quality Moderatork 500+ points
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    pahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!

    Nine Inch Log's picture
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    This may be the wrong question, but how did your friend know that Nivea soothes a sour sphincter?

    _______
    Number One . . . I order you to take a number two.

    Number One . . . I order you to take a number two.

    SKIP Mc's picture
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    Bravo. We don't get Indian that hot up here in NYS, but 7-8 pints of stout and a few dozen suicidal wings produce similar results. I hope your guts are back in shape.

    El Scumbag's picture
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    He's from Manchester NIL. Need I say more?

    The Kitlted Geek's picture
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    I laughed so hard I had to stop reading several times due to the tears. "buggered with a porcupine" There is a Baja Style Mexican place on the way home from the bars by my place. Similar story, but no way i could have articulated nearly as well. Bravo sir, bravo!

    John B's picture
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    Oh you poor man-such bravery and such pain
    I like Indian food too, but I just stop at Vindaloo. Anything that ends in 'loo' says it all. I also found that vitamin E cream
    works just as well for a burnt out balloon knot

    asiansprinkles1's picture
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    It's too bad your lady friend left you at the bar. I personally love a good fart and poop story at dinner.

    Blind Mullet's picture
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    Far out, El scumbag!
    I've gotta try this Tindaloo and Phal. Y'see, every now and then, I get together with my brother-in-law, and we play a game called The Vindaloo Challenge.
    The only requirements are a couple of filthy hot vindaloos, a bottle of Scotch, and a carton of beer.
    It starts like home-made Trivial Pursuit, usually with questions like "what is track 3, side 1 of Led Zeppelin III?". After the mandatory spoonful of vindaloo, the challenger has to answer the question. If he gets it right, he is rewarded with a swig of beer; wrong means a shot of whisky.
    Then its the other one's turn.
    Extra rules and penalties are made up as the game progresses.

    The winner is the last one to chunder.
    This is not a game that the girls want to join in with!

    _______
    I don't bite my nails, 'cause I don't like the taste of whats under 'em.

    The white zone is for loading and unloading only- FZ.

    El Scumbag's picture
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    A gentleman's game, for sure! Go easy BM. Phal is deadly. Best look for an arse doner, just in case.

    Thunderbox's picture
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    A man`s got to chunder in the land down under.

    The voice of sanity

    prarie doggin's picture
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    BM, I was wondering how this works with your...uh reworked plumbing system? Sounds to me like you may have a distinct advantage in the aftermath. Do you need to use a reinforced or chemical haz-mat bag?

    Leaky Bowel King's picture
    l 100+ points
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    And talk about taking drinking games to the extreme. Ya'll aussies don't play. I'm not quite sure what chunder means but I can use context clues and it doesn't sound like a good thing.

    spattacus's picture
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    LBK - come's from "Watch Out Under" usually followed by the cry of "RUTH" or "HUEY".
    A courtesy call to lower decks when puking from the rail of a ship.

    Leaky Bowel King's picture
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    Oh ok. Makes a lot more sense now. That's language I can understand. I appreciate that.

    Poopsy McGee's picture
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    EL SCUMBAG! You are fabulous! (said in a sing song voice)

    This gem is priceless. Whether you like it or not, I'm biting your shit and adopting some of your witticisms as my own. Of course, I'll only do it in my personal life, and not here in Poop Report so I can seem really original and clever.

    Thanks, you have provided me with an arsenal of similies sure to last me a lifetime.

    El Scumbag's picture
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    Er... ok Poops! Happy to please...
    *looks bewildered*

    Poopsy McGee's picture
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    Stop being an ass, Scums. Are you mad because I was making fun of you? I'll play nice from now on. I was just joking. Sometimes I get carried away. I don't mean anything by it. I didn't mean all the nonsense about the little bell. I'm sorry. That was kinda rude.

    El Scumbag's picture
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    Little bell? Sorry Poops, you've lost me! What makes you think I'm mad at you? Poops, I'm confused. What on earth are you talking about? Have I missed something? Making fun of me when?

    Taking the piss is an art that comes naturally to us both and all your posts are in good humour Poops, as are mine, so frankly mate, even if I could recall whatever it was that you said, I still wouldn't be upset. Go for it! Ridicule away, fair maiden, and take more piss than a festival urinal! Get more carried away than takeout pizza! I love it when you do!

    As it happens, I have no idea what you are on about, but I haven't been posting much in the last week or so because of various reasons and priorities, so don't think that just because I haven't responded to your posts or whatever is somehow because I'm upset or anything. I'm just busy!

    xxxxxxxoxoxoxoxoxoxo - will kisses and hugs convince you?

    El Scumbag's picture
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    Ah I've just found it. Commode thread, right? Fucking hell, why would I get upset about that? I remember it now and thought it was bloody funny actually, but when I next posted I forgot to mention it and since I generally only read the new posts on a thread, it got missed. Sorry!

    Poopsy McGee's picture
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    Awww. I feel all warm and tingly now. You did respond to my post, but you were a little too terse. I pictured you rolling your eyes over there on the other side of the Atlantic. It never occurred to me that you had other things to do. I'm self-absorbed.

    Shucks, Cumbag, you sure do know how to make a girl feel good. Lucky bird that landed you, even if she is required to keep the Anusol handy.

    I'll take the kisses, save the hugs. I'm not sure if your fingers have been probing that pile of yours again.

    El Scumbag's picture
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    Only a little rectal probing has occurred todsy. For the most part my fingers have been employed either been scratching the underside of my scrotum or removing the contents of my nostrils.

    Lucky bird indeed. And lucky me. The smell of roast potatoes is wafting in from the kitchen and a fresh pint mug of tea has just been plonked in front of me accompanied by a loving smile and a nibble on the back of my neck. Yes, I think I have it pretty good, all considered. Even her farts smell delightful.

    El Scumbag's picture
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    Jesus, that last post was a typing fuck up. It should read:

    Only a little rectal probing has occurred today. For the most part my fingers have been employed either scratching the underside of my scrotum or removing the contents of my nostrils.

    Lucky bird indeed. And lucky me. The smell of roast potatoes is wafting in from the kitchen and a fresh pint mug of tea has just been plonked in front of me accompanied by a loving smile and a nibble on the back of my neck. Yes, I think I have it pretty good, all considered. Even her farts smell delightful.

    Poopsy McGee's picture
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    I'm really glad you made those corrections. I was saying to myself "Poopsy, that man's an idiot."

    Does the nostril chum look anything like the cauliflower attached to your asshole?

    El Scumbag's picture
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    They are similar in size and mucal viscosity, but sadly not in colour.

    Poopsy McGee's picture
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    You spelled color wrong.

    Please make the appropriate correction.

    El Scumbag's picture
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    I refuse to lower myself to such depths Poopsy! It is not my fault that your entire nation chooses incorrect spelling and drops the silent 'u' in words that end in 'our'.
    We were kind enough to give our colonials a language so please be grateful enough to use it correctly!

    *mutters to self* Bloody 'American' English... *grinds teeth* ... always knew it was a mistake to grant 'em independence... *huffs and puffs* ...

    Poopsy McGee's picture
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    Well, while you're muttering, Scums, you may as well ruminate on the 's' versus 'z' bullshit too.

    Face it, you can't spell.

    As for the glorious nation that is Amurrica...go suck on your sour grapes, bitch. You know you are obsessed America, along with the rest of the world. So, tear yourself away from Jade Goody: The Funeral and please, start perfecting your language skills and kindly omit u's and s's. It's only proper.

    Doesn't mean I don't like ya.

    El Scumbag's picture
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    I'll consider myself 'told' Poops! Wouldn't wish to make an international incident out of this...

    And according to the latest press release, after her first week in Heaven, Jade has been nominated for eviction...

    Poopsy McGee's picture
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    Well done, just like I thought. Isn't it just like an American to bully their way into rightness? I'm so damn proud of myself right now. We Americans have held the belief that you can always count on a Brit to back down since at least 1776. However, I think you're 'letting the side down'.

    No seriously, modus vivendi.

    I heard Jade's selling wigs made from angel hair. She needs one. She was looking like a misshapen Easter egg.

    El Scumbag's picture
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    Well I just can't be arsed to argue Poops, that's all! As for letting the side down, well, pugna ignarus per silens contemptio, or something.

    Apparently after her funeral everyone will get to take away a little pouch of Jade's ashes - they're calling it a Goody bag.

    Every cloud has a silver lining... Jade got a tenner for a hairdryer on ebay.

    I bought a new Jade Goody calendar, but I think mines faulty, It only goes up to March.

    What's the difference between cervical cancer and Jack Tweed?
    One eats out Jade Goody's cunt and the other's Jack Tweed.

    Jade Goody has sealed yet another exclusive television deal. She's announced that she will be appearing in "Most Haunted" sometime in early April.

    What do you call Jade Goody in a wedding dress?
    A shuttlecock.

    Yes, the Jade jokes are everywhere, sadly.

    El Scumbag's picture
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    I apologise in advance to anyone offended by the above. But everyone in England is tastelessly swapping Jade jokes right now.

    MSG's picture
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    Englishman, lecturing to an American audience: "I've always wondered why you Ameddicans cawn't pronounce 'shed-yule.'"
    Reply from the audience: "We went to a different shool!" Joke.

    I had occasion to use Nivea cream on a slightly inflamed rear exit a few days ago, and it soothed very well.

    El Scumbag's picture
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    Glad to hear it MSG. Told you!

    Leaky Bowel King's picture
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    Nice way to totally derail your thread scumbag. I've had some musical ventures lately that have kept me from poop report but this surely did get interesting. Speaking of silent letters and stuff there was a case here in the good ol US of fycking A where there was a woman who named her kid Le-a and got pissed when no one could say it right. Apparently it's pronounced "ledasha" "cuz the dash aint silent".

    Poopsy McGee's picture
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    Okay, Scummy, have it your way. Hows does one say "You're a pussy" in Latin?

    What I loved most about Jade Goody: The Next Chapter was the wedding. Her husband only married her after she got the diagnosis of death.

    Back to poop, sort of. I don't think we have Nivea cold cream here in the US. We've got Noxema and Pond's cold cream and other assorted Nivea products. Next time I have an ass blow out, I'm going to try Pond's. Hopefully it contains the same soothing virtues.

    Leaky, that is the best story I've heard in months. What is it with the inventive spelling of given names? Yours would be: L'heekay.

    El Scumbag's picture
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    Vos es a pussy, but pussy doesn't translate. Even vos es a vagina doesn't really work either. Vos es a pallens alio, directly translated is 'you are a weak person' which is probably about as close as you are going to get.

    Any cold cream should suffice to cure the ringsting Poops. Let me know how it works for you!

    needsserenity's picture
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    Great story. I have to applaud your descriptive abilities as I sit here in pain with a similar situation.

    She should have stayed. Doesn't everyone talk about poop?!

    sittingpretty's picture
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    Yesterday< I was cleaning my body cat-style. I was using noxema. I got the idea from a poopreporter. Anyway, I was going to rinse the noxema off my hmmm hmmm when I dicovered my water was turned off.(Forgot to pay the bill.) I am so glad I was using noxema and not soap, because I had to wipe it off since I couldn't rinse it off. And you know how bad soap burns my hmm hmm.
    _______
    ...And their flesh like dung. Zeph. 1:17

    ...And their flesh like dung. Zeph. 1:17

    prarie doggin's picture
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    Hmm hmm......I forgot what I was going to say.

    sittingpretty's picture
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    I know better PD. You always have something to sat and you don't forget.
    _______
    ...And their flesh like dung. Zeph. 1:17

    ...And their flesh like dung. Zeph. 1:17