Bad Smells
"I once left the world's stinkiest guff in a lift before sending it down to a group of Germans, all bustling to be first in the doors upon its arrival," giggles Boarders. Tell us your stories involving farts, noxious gasses and unpleasant smells.
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 11:56)
"I once left the world's stinkiest guff in a lift before sending it down to a group of Germans, all bustling to be first in the doors upon its arrival," giggles Boarders. Tell us your stories involving farts, noxious gasses and unpleasant smells.
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 11:56)
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Poo
So, first thing in the morning on Sunday.
The sprog's been up at the first hint of dawn, but luckily it had been mutually and non-verbally agreed that it was my turn for a bit of an extra kip, so My Missus, Laura has taken the pooy 'Eraserhead baby' downstairs to watch some TV.
But when I get up - Laura decides, to further my education in all things baby-like, for me to have another go at changing the sprog's nappy (which, although I have done it a few times, I've managed to get out of generally).
No problem, thinks I, I've changed the nappy before when it's been full to overflowing, and couldn't be any harder than that.
So off I hop upstairs, sprog under arm, lie her down on the changing rug and undo the nappy. . . .
...to find the dark horror. Satan would have been proud.
There is black poo, everywhere. Every square millimetre of this nappy is quagmired with evil, with undigested black (beans?) bits in it. The poo covers the nappy, entirely, and stinks worse than anything I have jet to encounter at such close proximity. You could almost see the heat shimmer off it.
As I said, this was on Sunday morning.
Sunday.
The day after Saturday. Which traditionally involves drinking rather substantially.
So - setting the scene: I've got the little 'un, holding her crossed ankles in the air with one hand, her besmeared lower-region hovering inches away from a massive stinky pile of stinking partially digested bum-matter, and barking like a dying rabid dog through heaving so much.
"HuuRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHaagh!!!!" I explained.
"HRRRRRRRRRRRuuughAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!" I repeated for the hard of hearing.
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-uuuuuurgh ARRGH!!!" I reiterated, eyes filling up due to a combination of highly acidic fumes and wretching.
"Huuuuuuu-rrrrrrrr - LAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRAAAAAAAAA !!!" I screamed, trying to decide what would be harder to clean off the carpet, baby poo, or my breakfast and last nights cider. I could run off, but the sprog would be up straight away, covering the whole of her room in a very innocent but particulary horendous dirty protest. Or I could stay holding onto her ankles and blow chunk after chunk of my OWN rancid ejecta all over the carpet . . .
" LAURA!! HELP!!" I bark once again, face pointing as far away from the offending pile off baby-generated fecal horror as I could manage.
Luckily, help came in the form of the evil-one's mother, and I was able to safely run to the bedroom and stick my head out of the window, where I managed to heave and wretch for a good three more minutes or so.
Luckily I managed to hang on to my Bird's Eye Potato Waffles that morning, but I can still smell the anal swamp terror while typing this . . .
(Names changed, etc)
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 13:34, 12 replies)
So, first thing in the morning on Sunday.
The sprog's been up at the first hint of dawn, but luckily it had been mutually and non-verbally agreed that it was my turn for a bit of an extra kip, so My Missus, Laura has taken the pooy 'Eraserhead baby' downstairs to watch some TV.
But when I get up - Laura decides, to further my education in all things baby-like, for me to have another go at changing the sprog's nappy (which, although I have done it a few times, I've managed to get out of generally).
No problem, thinks I, I've changed the nappy before when it's been full to overflowing, and couldn't be any harder than that.
So off I hop upstairs, sprog under arm, lie her down on the changing rug and undo the nappy. . . .
...to find the dark horror. Satan would have been proud.
There is black poo, everywhere. Every square millimetre of this nappy is quagmired with evil, with undigested black (beans?) bits in it. The poo covers the nappy, entirely, and stinks worse than anything I have jet to encounter at such close proximity. You could almost see the heat shimmer off it.
As I said, this was on Sunday morning.
Sunday.
The day after Saturday. Which traditionally involves drinking rather substantially.
So - setting the scene: I've got the little 'un, holding her crossed ankles in the air with one hand, her besmeared lower-region hovering inches away from a massive stinky pile of stinking partially digested bum-matter, and barking like a dying rabid dog through heaving so much.
"HuuRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHaagh!!!!" I explained.
"HRRRRRRRRRRRuuughAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!" I repeated for the hard of hearing.
"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-uuuuuurgh ARRGH!!!" I reiterated, eyes filling up due to a combination of highly acidic fumes and wretching.
"Huuuuuuu-rrrrrrrr - LAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRAAAAAAAAA !!!" I screamed, trying to decide what would be harder to clean off the carpet, baby poo, or my breakfast and last nights cider. I could run off, but the sprog would be up straight away, covering the whole of her room in a very innocent but particulary horendous dirty protest. Or I could stay holding onto her ankles and blow chunk after chunk of my OWN rancid ejecta all over the carpet . . .
" LAURA!! HELP!!" I bark once again, face pointing as far away from the offending pile off baby-generated fecal horror as I could manage.
Luckily, help came in the form of the evil-one's mother, and I was able to safely run to the bedroom and stick my head out of the window, where I managed to heave and wretch for a good three more minutes or so.
Luckily I managed to hang on to my Bird's Eye Potato Waffles that morning, but I can still smell the anal swamp terror while typing this . . .
(Names changed, etc)
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 13:34, 12 replies)
How long did it take you to work out that getting hammered is a bad idea when you have small children to take care of?
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 13:44, closed)
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 13:44, closed)
Yadda, yadda, Portugal, tapas, couple of glasses of vinho verde
What could goo wrong?
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 13:49, closed)
What could goo wrong?
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 13:49, closed)
Baby poo
is easy, it's toddler poo that really stinks. Also made worse when they decide they need to go for a piss and further shit when you take the nappy off.
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 14:55, closed)
is easy, it's toddler poo that really stinks. Also made worse when they decide they need to go for a piss and further shit when you take the nappy off.
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 14:55, closed)
Holding their feet aloft, whilst the poo extrudes from their anus,
like Satan's very own Mister Whippy.
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 15:13, closed)
like Satan's very own Mister Whippy.
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 15:13, closed)
Long story short...
Did you piss vomit into yours/your baby's mouth?
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 15:15, closed)
Did you piss vomit into yours/your baby's mouth?
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 15:15, closed)
I puked once...
...while mopping up some of her puke. But sadly not in anyone's mouth.
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 15:22, closed)
...while mopping up some of her puke. But sadly not in anyone's mouth.
( , Fri 17 Jan 2014, 15:22, closed)
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