Ever go into a public toilet stall and not believe your eyes?
bozo
start wallpapering.
You don't dare flush it either cuz you know it'll fill-up and over
flow in 7-seconds flat.
What's really weird though is when a toilet bowl appears to be working
but the bowl itself inside looks like it's been partially stuccoed
with shit.
I've seen air-compressors that do this kind of work and it's
industrial strength machinery.
I could never figure out why someone would start a job like this and
not complete it?
Especially in that color.
But now I know why and how.
-bdn-
Tommy Joe
The answer to your opening question is a resounding yes. Most
shocking of all is when there's shit all over the back of the seat,
and you can tell it wasn't done exactly on purpose. I mean, if it was
on purpose it would be all over the seat and walls and floor. It's
like the crap just sprays out of the hole like a geyser spewing
steam. Maybe it happens when he first sits down, the very moment the
pants are coming off. Or maybe it happens as he's getting up to put
his pants on, one final squirt of brown blown from his asshole as the
pressure of standing up causes his sphincter muscles to contract and
blow out one final diehard turd, then blowing it to smithereens as it
slams against the back of the hard toilet seat. Who knows? I've seen
some ugly restrooms, but the turds on the seat are the one that
astounds me most.
Tommy Joe
Tommy Joe
Regarding turds on the seat, another theory. Maybe the person
taking the crap is so relaxed from the experience that he falls asleep
on the seat. During the actual shit-taking his cheeks are secured
inside the seat. But once they fall asleep they begin to squirm
around like we do when we sleep in bed, and their cheeks rise up from
inside the seat and spread wide against it's outer rim as the cruddy
asshole contained within smothers the seat the way a puppy with worms
drags it's asshole across the rug.
Tommy Joe
ChattyDaisy
Nothing beats diarrhea dripping from the ceiling fixture...
Regards,
Daisy
Tommy Joe
ChattyDaisy wrote:
>
>
>
> Nothing beats diarrhea dripping from the ceiling fixture...
It's a long way to Tipperary, but an even longer way from the
toilet seat to the ceiling fixture. The only way I can see it
happening is on the rebound, ricocheting off something else with
incredible force. But even a champion shitter looking to break the
world distance record would have a hard time directing his asshole
toward the ceiling. Lying down on one's stomach would be the only
way. But lying down puts too much pressure on the stomach and doesn't
allow for full contraction of the asshole as the shit rumbles
through. If there was any shit on the ceiling fixture it had to come
from a richochet.
Tommy Joe
Tommy Joe
ChattyDaisy wrote:
>
>
>
> Nothing beats diarrhea dripping from the ceiling fixture...
bozo
>
> - Show quoted text -
I liked the flourish of "one final squirt of brown blown to
smithereens against the back of a hard toilet seat ... and I've seen
some ugly restrooms but turds on the cieling astound me most"
-bdn-
Don Freeman
Tommy Joe
Don Freeman wrote:
Tommy Joe wrote:
> > Nothing beats diarrhea dripping from the ceiling fixture...
> Note to self: do not read this group while eating breakfast anymore.
Unless you're eating shit, then it's ok.
Tommy Joe
ChattyDaisy
Why?
Regards,
Daisy
ChattyDaisy
I don't want to progressively emerge like I'm poo-pooing the world's
most conversant shit specialist, but you very well know that a high-
quality, energetic, profuse diarrhea blast, has a whole other set of
rules than trouble-free, sturdy, sculptured stools. Nothing beats
diarrhea dripping from the ceiling fixture, nothing.
Regards,
Daisy
Tommy Joe
ChattyDaisy wrote:
>
>
Nothing beats diarrhea dripping from the ceiling fixture, nothing.
Perhaps, if you see it on your own istead of getting it second-
hand. I cannot forget that you were not there to actually see it.
You cannot be an expert on that scene if you were not there yourself.
Tommy Joe (stop shitting me)
ChattyDaisy
If it's in my head as a crystal clear picture, it's worth 1000 words,
so embrace the drip and go with it...
Regards,
Daisy
Tommy Joe
ChattyDaisy wrote:
>
>
>
> If it's in my head as a crystal clear picture, it's worth 1000 words,
> so embrace the drip and go with it...
I can embrace the picture but will always remember that you first
related the scene to me as if you had actually been there when in
reality you were not and the scene was described to you by someone
else which means it's second hand info and therefore loses some of
it's punch. But as a picture, yes you painted a good one. Let's just
remember that that's all it is, a picture from your own mind. I've
been around shit all my life and I've never seen it on ceiling
fixtures (unless a prankster put it there). I challenge you or anyone
to produce an individual capable of blasting diarrhea from their ass
straight to the ceiling.
Tommy Joe
ChattyDaisy
You know what? I'm sick of you! I gave your challenge information to
the actual perpetrator and the eyewitness, since you consider me
nothing more than 3rd party hearsay. They're both ready to fly to your
apartment for a private reenactment of the original scene. You'll get
it from both horses mouths and then some; get ready, 'cause here they
come.
Regards,
Daisy
Tommy Joe
ChattyDaisy wrote:
>
>
> You know what? I'm sick of you! I gave your challenge information to
> the actual perpetrator and the eyewitness, since you consider me
> nothing more than 3rd party hearsay. They're both ready to fly to your
> apartment for a private reenactment of the original scene. You'll get
> it from both horses mouths and then some; get ready, 'cause here they
> come.
I'd believe you if I lived down the street from them, but
they're not going to travel more than 2,000 miles to teach me a
lesson. The diahrrea blaster is too fat and lacks the energy to make
the trip. The diarrhea blast observer is too cheap to buy the
ticket. I'm safe. And you know it.
Tommy Joe
ChattyDaisy
Oh, but you couldn't be more wrong about the observer! She has
naturally blonde hair, very blue eyes and a fair complexion, which
tends to water the cheap down. The blaster would pudge her way out to
you as well, simply to make sure the observer doesn't portray her
inaccurately, or in a bad light. You'll have guests! I'll Skype in
because I love the story and I'm the shy one who must stay home to
clean both their fireplaces...
Regards,
Daisy
Tommy Joe
ChattyDaisy wrote:
>
>
>
> Oh, but you couldn't be more wrong about the observer! She has
> naturally blonde hair, very blue eyes and a fair complexion, which
> tends to water the cheap down. The blaster would pudge her way out to
> you as well, simply to make sure the observer doesn't portray her
> inaccurately, or in a bad light. You'll have guests! I'll Skype in
> because I love the story and I'm the shy one who must stay home to
> clean both their fireplaces...
LOL - "fair complexion, which tends to water the cheap down."
But cheapness extends beyond ethnicity. Of course I had no right to
call the observer cheap, not without reason. Now I am forced to
search for a reason, as I am not yet prepared to say I was wrong to
call her cheap (even if she isn't). I have no way of knowing if she's
cheap. But I know from your description that the diarrhea blaster is
morbidly obese. Maybe she would be too lazy to make the trip. But
the other one, the observer, I had no right to accuse of being
anything on the basis of what I've heard of her so far. Oh yeah, you
said she chain-smokes. Cigarets cost a lot of money these days. So
maybe - if she's cheap - it's because she spends a lot of cash on
cigarets and has to be careful with how she spends what's left. And
that's just one example of how I can rationalize my accusations, false
or otherwise. But I still say that even the world's most powerful
asshole - especially one located between cheeks 12 to 20 inches deep -
could not blast diarrhea directly onto a ceiling fixture if it's
anywhere near the ceiling. Perhaps someone good at yoga could bend at
the waist and point their asshole skyward for a one-shot blast. But
how far would it go? Inquiring minds want to know.
Tommy Joe
Tommy Joe
LOL - "fair complexion, which tends to water the cheap down."
I've met fair haired non jewish germans who are extremely cheap. In
fact, I think as a rule the Germans are that way. Maybe that's why
the jews and germans didn't get along, because they were too much
alike. The old familiarity breeds contempt type thing. But lastly
let me say that I never said jews were cheap, although there is a
certain pawnshop mentality to their culture that could be
misinterpreted as cheapness. Even if it's a generalization that jews
are cheap, generalizations are rooted in fact that has been skewed and
twisted and exaggerated at times, but is fact nontheless, fact worthy
of myth.
Tommy Joe
ChattyDaisy
The Blaster would never allow The Observer to tell you the story by
herself. It's a matter of principle; The Blaster thinks The Observer
embellishes the story.
Listening to the 2 of them debate, discuss, argue, recollect that one
incident for way too many years, I think The Observer has more truth
to her story than The Blaster, who not only can't see behind her, but
floats from feeling embarrassed to proud of that night. The wishy
washy feelings are suspicious.
The Observer may embellish, slightly, but the way she describes the
incident is worth listening to - at least a dozen times. She doesn't
dwell on how the blast got to the ceiling fixture, but more on what it
looked like after it began to slowly drip off and how she was in such
a blind panic that she couldn't think of how to retaliate. She claims
The Blaster bent over to turn on the faucets in the tub and before she
saw it, she heard it, which is one of my favorite parts of the
story...
The Blaster has a more simplistic version of what she did - she admits
to several blasts that made it to the chandelier, reminding everyone,
constantly, that there were several blasts and they must have
ricocheted off of the mirror at just the right angle in order to make
it up to the ceiling fixture.
I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's not that I'm bored, it's
that The Observer and The Blaster will be in the same room soon, for a
few days and I want the story to feel new and surprising for me.
You're ruining my happiness.
As a distraction, let's talk about your most memorable blast. Tell us
a story!
Regards,
Daisy
Tommy Joe
ChattyDaisy wrote:
>
>
>
> Listening to the 2 of them debate, discuss, argue, recollect that one
> incident for way too many years, I think The Observer has more truth
> to her story than The Blaster, who not only can't see behind her, but
> floats from feeling embarrassed to proud of that night. The wishy
> washy feelings are suspicious.
Ok, got it. Now, if you can get the Blaster at those moments when
she's feeling proud, at those moments you will be closer to the truth
than the exaggerated version of the Observer. But don't get me wrong,
I'd love to hear the Observer's version in person, I know it's got to
be entertaining. Your version was good too. It's all rooted in
truth. But sometimes the truth can be stretched to the point where it
makes me suspicious. Stop being so defensive. The Observer may be
better at relating the story of the blast better than the actual
Blaster, and maybe your version is superior even to the Observer's. I
too am willing to let this go as I passively surrender to neutrality
and submit that I could be wrong, that maybe there are people out
there who can shit from the floor to the ceiling, but all I'm saying
is I haven't seen one yet. And I'd like to. I wouldn't make it a
habit of it the way people do with going to the opera, but to see it
just once would be an intriguing experience.
Tommy Joe (turn the other cheek and blow baby blow)
ChattyDaisy
Stop it with this already...
Regards,
Daisy
bozo
> On Dec 24, 1:57 am, Tommy Joe <j...@bellsouth.net> wrote:
>
> > Tommy Joe (turn the other cheek and blow baby blow)
>
>
> Regards,
> Daisy
When God was handing out brains,
You thought he said cranes,
And said, "Give me a flighty one."
When God was handing out noses,
You thought he said Moses,
And said "I'll take one that can divide the waters so all the people
can walk through."
When God was handing out reasoning,
You thought they said seasoning,
And said, "Make mine bland."
"When God was handing out brains,
You thought he said, 'trains',
And said "I'll take a slow one."
When God was handing out noses,
You thought he said, 'roses',
And asked for a big red one."
When God was handing out chins,
You heard 'gins', and said
"Make mine a double."
When God was handing out looks,
You thought he said books
And said "a funny one please."
When god was handing out ears
You thought he said pears
And asked for "big ones".
Got more?
When God said species,
Tommy heard feces,
and said "Say when."
-bdn-
Tommy Joe
With everything preceding this last paragraph from you God was
'handing things out', but with me he just said something. Ok, so when
God was handing out species he asked what species I wanted to be, and
I thought he said feces, so I said give me the human kind. So it
turned out to be the same thing anyway. The feces of species or the
species of feces, it's all the same shit.
Tommy Joe
Tommy Joe
bozo wrote:
>
>
> When God said species,
> Tommy heard feces,
> and said "Say when."
I heard him exclaim as he rode out of sight, "May the farts from my
reindeer keep me warm on this night."
Tommy Joe
ChattyDaisy
God said to Bozo:
I'm now handing out private hoses,
And here's one for you Bozo,
The size of 2, Chinese noses...
Regards,
Daisy
ChattyDaisy
Sick! Nice!
Regards,
Daisy