Morning dilemma
Posted in Blog by Twenty Major on August 28th, 2008
“I’ll be there at 9!”, he said.
Now it’s half-nine and he still hasn’t arrived. I am now in the precarious position that I very much need to have a poo but I know that the moment I sit down and begin the unfurling the doorbell will go. And as I am a man who believes that a good movement is one which involves reading some pages of a book, or at least a couple of games of Solitaire on my phone, I will open the door some minutes later (for nothing will hurry my ablutions) he will be gone.
Then I sit here and think ‘You know, if you’d actually gone for a poo instead of writing this post then it’d be over and done with by now and this wouldn’t be an issue’.
However, that kind of thinking is flawed. The man simply will not arrive mid-blog post, he will certainly arrive mid-plop.
The worst part is that he’ll occupy so much of my time when he does arrive, what with his incessant talking and stuff, that soon my bowels will be crying out like an Austrian girl in a cellar and the meeting will become essentially useless. I will hurry him from the house without a satisfactory outcome and the whole thing will become utterly pointless.
What to do?
Fuck it. I’m off to the bathroom. A man cannot be expected to wait, especially by somebody who lacks the manners and basic decency to be punctual. In fact, I might keep a clump so I can smear it into his hair to teach him a lesson in the aforementioned traits.
you should have taken a dump outside your front door. Ahh sure it would be a bit messy but you could have relaxed.
August 28th, 2008 at 9:43 am
You could have left the door ajar and a note that sad ‘Come in - but don’t go in the bathroom’.
August 28th, 2008 at 9:49 am
1
Thanks for making a post for me.
August 28th, 2008 at 9:58 am
2
I would poo first and then hopefully visitor would need to use the jacks.
That still amuses me. But the most likely victim, namely Mrs. Super, has yet to fully grasp the hilarity of the jape.
August 28th, 2008 at 10:06 am
3
Ha, so true. If you need to plop on demand you drink a strong cup of fresh coffee and maybe a slice of toast and it’ll arrive down at the depot and tell the lads to push on.
I have been in this situation a couple of times. Once in work where sadly my Spanish secretary actually told the client who arrived early that I was in the toilet. Luckily that client was a great laugh anyway and slagged me off for a week… “Ah there you are, were in the jacks?”
August 28th, 2008 at 10:09 am
4
Spanish secretary…?
ooh la la
(giz a job?)
August 28th, 2008 at 10:17 am
5
Oh dear, cultural differences!
August 28th, 2008 at 10:19 am
6
Admit it, you blogged from the jax!
August 28th, 2008 at 10:23 am
7
Alas she’s moved now. Terrible English but really nice girl, we miss her.
August 28th, 2008 at 10:27 am
8
Twenty is proud of his toilet blogging. No doubt he would freely admit to it, nay, brag about it!
August 28th, 2008 at 10:30 am
9
You’re probably right, Jo. Pooing and posting have much in common. As I believe the Bard put it, “Poo, where is thy sting?”
August 28th, 2008 at 10:48 am
10
He’s written about blogging from the toilet. ‘Plogging’ he calls it.
August 28th, 2008 at 11:00 am
11
“Poo, where is thy sting?”
They had yet to discover curry.
August 28th, 2008 at 11:01 am
12
Its the law of the universe. The phone always rings just when your are in curl-out mode.
It doesn’t matter to me like- because I won’t answer the phoen anyway. But that doesn’t mean I enjoy some faux Rockford File theme tune purring going off nearby.
I blame it for unsatisfactory curlage.
August 28th, 2008 at 11:29 am
13
I was on the phone once to a mate who was actually in mid-plop while talking to me. He thought I wouldn’t know but the echo and the plunk noise gave it away…
“What was that?”
“Eh…”
“You’re on the fucking jacks aren’t ye?”
“Eh…”
“Durty fecker”
August 28th, 2008 at 11:45 am
14
Oh shit, and I just had dinner.
August 28th, 2008 at 11:46 am
15
One time the phone rang and the cordless was just outside the door on the ground. I rushed my lean-forward/sit up motion and accidentally took a shit on the floor. True story.
Anyone ever take a shit on the toilet floor by accident? Thanks God I was at home.
August 28th, 2008 at 11:48 am
16
I would poo first and then hopefully visitor would need to use the jacks.
That still amuses me. But the most likely victim, namely Mrs. Super, has yet to fully grasp the hilarity of the jape.
Haha, my gf, lets call her morgora, never seems to find it amusing either.
While I have tears streaming down my face at the sound of her cries of dismay.
August 28th, 2008 at 12:08 pm
17
If you’d just open a window, just a little fucking bit…
Oh, wait, that makes it sound like I’m morgora. No, it’s a universal experience.
Nothing was as bad as going in after your dad had been though, back in the days of living en famille.
August 28th, 2008 at 12:18 pm
18
The key issue that needs to be factored into the decision making process is whether you are going to lay a transatlantic cable or just drop a bonus ball. And these things are difficult to predict.
August 28th, 2008 at 12:21 pm
19
Nothing was as bad as going in after your dad had been though,
The loo was a no go area for about 6 hours after my da had dropped the cosby’s off at the pool..
August 28th, 2008 at 12:21 pm
20
“If you’d just open a window, just a little fucking bit…”
My gaff has no jacks window, just an extractor fan and, of late, a scented candle.
August 28th, 2008 at 12:30 pm
21
Its Murphy’s Law that the phone will ring or someone will knock on the door when you are having a bath, having the best sex of your life or taking a dump.
So cut the odds! have a crap while in the bath! (just make sure the water level is below your chin and don’t fall asleep). I couldn’t work sex into this equation without getting queasy, sorry.
P.S. That Murphy wants locking up, the bastard!
August 28th, 2008 at 12:50 pm
22
My gaff has no jacks window, just an extractor fan and, of late, a scented candle.
Ditto, plus it’s en-suite.
August 28th, 2008 at 12:59 pm
23
A young male growing up knows he has entered manhood, not the day he finds hair on his balls, nor the day he has his first shave, not even the morning he wakes up to his first sticky sheet… but the day his shit smells as bad as his dad’s.
August 28th, 2008 at 1:15 pm
24
my gf, lets call her morgora
Word of advice there morgor. That’s what I used to call her, (for a joke, like), and she doesn’t think it’s one bit funny.
August 28th, 2008 at 1:28 pm
25
Stomach eater? Spud sucker? Why do I always miss the excitement?
Poohing should omly ever be done behind at least two locked doors in the middle of the night - it’s safer then.
August 28th, 2008 at 1:28 pm
26
By the way morgor, your Ma thinks it’s hilarious.
August 28th, 2008 at 1:31 pm
27
By the way morgor, your Ma thinks it’s hilarious.
Am I missing some sort of Tallaght lingo? or are you just rambling non-sensically?
August 28th, 2008 at 1:37 pm
28
Ditto, plus it’s en-suite.
They really spoil prisoners these days.
August 28th, 2008 at 1:38 pm
29
I still say having a bog indoors is not civilised.
Mary Harney’s family fervently agree with me.
August 28th, 2008 at 1:39 pm
30
Mary Harney’s family fervently agree with me.
I would say their neighbours would beg to differ..and i do mean Beg
August 28th, 2008 at 1:48 pm
31
Hello. The blessings of St Pagemus be on ye all, seeing as that’s the day we are currently enjoying.
Is this the right place for people who like right-wing catholicism, one day cricket, and knitting jumpers?
By the way Mary Harney is a fat communist atheist who never lifted a knitting needle in anger in her life. I’m near convinced it was her that got me thrun out of the Confraternity. Speaks to Dolphins. Or so they say.
August 28th, 2008 at 1:49 pm
32
Am I missing some sort of Tallaght lingo? or are you just rambling non-sensically?
Could be. Or I could be upset because you never answered my text message last night. -Who knows?
Anyway, is this the lad who let you down Twenty? http://tinyurl.com/6gq9sp
Typical. He took a mate of mine, (from behind) for €50.00 only last week.
August 28th, 2008 at 1:49 pm
33
Mary Harney has no neighbours. She has ‘adjoining counties’. A bit like Tipperary.
There’s only North or South Tipperary. That’s not fair as every other place I ever heard of has a north or south.
Something to do with the godless EU, I’ll warrant.
August 28th, 2008 at 1:53 pm
34
She went out on the Stephen’s Day hunt over at the big house.
‘The munter on the hunter’ we called her. Mary feckin Harney.
August 28th, 2008 at 1:59 pm
35
From wikipedia on Mary Harney; ‘1976 she graduated with a Bachelor of Arts in Modern Studies and for a brief time was a secondary school teacher at Castleknock College in Dublin. In November 2001 Harney married Brian Geoghegan, a business leader, in a low-key afternoon ceremony in Dublin on a day in which she attended to a number of other significant political meetings.’
A ‘low-key’ afternoon wedding? I like the way the writer goes on to say ‘other significant political meetings.’
Does that mean that Mary Harney’s wedding was a ’significant political meeting’ or is it creature trying to make out that Harney is so interested in looking after everyone that she somehow squeezed in her weddding between meeting Briani Beaga Oga Whack-Fadda of the Island League on the State of The Western Herring and attending a political soiree for the launch of yet another fetching young Dublin author’s book?
I’m confused. But at least I’m not obese.
August 28th, 2008 at 2:08 pm
36
Cosbys, fucking heh
August 28th, 2008 at 2:11 pm
37
No one should ever visit another person’s house unless it’s absolutely vital.
Midway public meetups.
August 28th, 2008 at 2:17 pm
38
‘In December 2001, Harney used a Government plane which was 50% funded by the European Commission to travel to County Leitrim to open a friend’s off-licence in Manorhamilton. Harney later apologised for having abused her position in using the plane for non government business and admitted that using the plane was wrong. The aircraft[5] was to be used 90% of the time exclusively for maritime surveillance.’
Apart from the fact that even Irish politicians should be able go figure out that using a State airplane to go to Leitrim from Dublin to open a friend’s off-license COULD be questionable ethically, I would like to point out that it was used for maritime surveillance- told you she spoke to Dolphins. Like everything political, you have to read between the lines.
Will no-one rid us of this flatulent priest?
August 28th, 2008 at 2:19 pm
39
Erm, any chance you could shut the fuck up about Mary Harney? Thanks.
August 28th, 2008 at 2:25 pm
40
I’ve just looked at Mary Harney’s website may God forgive me and kep me from all harm.
It has a photo of Herself, with a little link next to it that says (rather optimistically) ‘Press link for high resolution image’.
She’ll be lucky.
August 28th, 2008 at 2:28 pm
41
Sorry Tweetie.
August 28th, 2008 at 2:29 pm
42
Thank you.
August 28th, 2008 at 2:29 pm
43
That’s a constant source of amusement, when the toilet is about three feet from where everybody is sitting. There’s just a few millimetres of ply between them and the noxious sounds and gases emanating from your hole.
Do you attempt to release in a controlled fashion and risk the high pitched squeak followed by the inevitable sploosh (which sounds something like Free Willy re-entering his pool) or do you think “fuck it” and proceed to carpet bomb Dresden which produces the same look of numbed horror on the faces of those present?
August 28th, 2008 at 2:31 pm
44
If the Dubliners were alive they would be singing
“Poor aul Mary Harney”
August 28th, 2008 at 2:33 pm
45
Mrs Genevieve is feckin gas.
August 28th, 2008 at 2:38 pm
46
You want to try going bang on the smoke over a long weekend and then trying to shift yourself on the Tuesday morning.
My Batty lived in Amsterdam for six months and he swears he only had three movements while he was there.
Loads of tight squeezy noises but not much in the way of Cosbys. A few knacker kids, but not a hint of a rewarding Cosby. He’s a martyr to it.
August 28th, 2008 at 3:07 pm
47
Its not fair that I was chucked out of the Confraternity of Mothers of Seven. So what if I’ve only 5 kids. There was a woman the other day had triplets and she was nearly a hundred and eighty years old or something.
I’ll get those bitches. Or get pregnant trying.
August 28th, 2008 at 3:13 pm
48
Mrs Genevieve fell off.
August 28th, 2008 at 3:15 pm
49
brenjamin says:
Mrs Genevieve fell off.
I’m not allowed to mention You-Know-Who. Sorry.
August 28th, 2008 at 3:47 pm
50
Did someone say ‘Fianna Fail’?
August 28th, 2008 at 3:47 pm
51
good god that O’Sullivan is one tedious cunt
August 28th, 2008 at 3:47 pm
52
Lorcan the lion says:
good god that O’Sullivan is one tedious cunt
Thanks Lorcan- by the way the collar on your Irish rugby shirt should be down, not up, in a faux imitation of ‘Twickers’.
Who the fuck names a child ‘Lorcan’?
August 28th, 2008 at 3:49 pm
53
See all that hubbub about the ‘millionaire’ draw not being live on telly, etc.
Is it just that nigh on 300,000 suckers managed to wind themselves to think that they were going to be rich just cos they spent 20 lids on a ticket and now they’re cheesed?
August 28th, 2008 at 3:50 pm
54
“Who the fuck names a child ‘Lorcan’?”
There was a very shy studious lad in my class in school called Lorcan. He had a problem with always pulling redners if a teacher asked him a question or anything.
All you had to do was whisper loudly “Hey, Lorcan go red” and moments later you would see the neck of him going slowly crimson.
Now I feel bad and that was back in the 80’s.
August 28th, 2008 at 3:53 pm
55
I’ve just looked up the name Lorcan and it means a ‘little fierce one’. Same as you’d get after a good curry I suppose.
‘Lorcan’. Do you have a friend called ‘Prinsios’, by any chance?
Lorcan and Prinsios- sounds like a couple of retired gay civil servants eking out an existence on cat-food in Mullinahone.
August 28th, 2008 at 3:55 pm
56
oh i feel so unwanted………weep sob etc
August 28th, 2008 at 3:57 pm
57
‘All you had to do was whisper loudly “Hey, Lorcan go red” and moments later you would see the neck of him going slowly crimson.’
Class. ‘Hey Lorcan. Go red’ …. (1) I’d never name a child Lorcan (2) I wouldn’t let it use what it imagines is ‘classy English’ like ‘Good God’ and (3) I’d never let it apply to join RTE.
Its just the sort of semi-strangled Celticness RTD would give a three hour show to on Sundays.
August 28th, 2008 at 4:01 pm
58
Supergrover, there was a fella in my class like that. Just had to say redner and off he went, was brilliant fun altogether.
Now Mrs O’Sullivan, does your Batty know that you’re making a right show of him in front of his mates?
August 28th, 2008 at 4:02 pm
59
lorcan says:
oh i feel so unwanted………weep sob etc
Too late now, boy. And I notice no denial of the collar-up Irish rugby shirt either. Or is it ‘rugger’?
August 28th, 2008 at 4:03 pm
60
Holemaster says:
Supergrover, there was a fella in my class like that. Just had to say redner and off he went, was brilliant fun altogether.
‘Now Mrs O’Sullivan, does your Batty know that you’re making a right show of him in front of his mates?’
Ah, never mind me Mr Hole. I can put up with a lot but never in a million years will I suffer a Lorcan. Or a Prionnsios either.
August 28th, 2008 at 4:05 pm
61
Mrs. O’Sullivan why do you keep quoting all our posts and replying to them?
August 28th, 2008 at 4:06 pm
62
E-Ecolalia
August 28th, 2008 at 4:11 pm
63
yup we had a redner in our class too.
Suffered under the same command of “Go red”.
unfortunate.
He was quite normal, I feel more sorry for the guy who had a gammy leg who was actually a nice guy.
August 28th, 2008 at 4:12 pm
64
I have often wondered if there is a state sponsored surveillance bureau who watch everything you do, in the tradition of 1984’s Big Brother. Except this bureau exists just to fuck you up.
They see you heading to the jacks with the RTE guide under your arm, wait a few minutes then call you on the phone. While you are sat there listening to the incessant ringing you ask yourself “How, in the name of Christ, did they know????”.
And you can guarantee if you take the bait and dash for the phone with your pants around your knees they will hang up just as you pick up the receiver, you’re not telling me the fuckers aren’t watching!
August 28th, 2008 at 4:15 pm
65
A man should be left to shit in peace, not in pieces.
August 28th, 2008 at 4:19 pm
66
You are right, Holemaster. And also if the house is really quiet on a sunday morning and you’ve decided that the sunshine coming in through the bathroom window is at just the right angle to bathe your face in a warm glow so off you go.
Perch. Push. Suddenly the bathroom door slams open and fifteen female relatives come smashing their way in with a packet of Bovril haircolour with which they propose to change an ugly cousin’s life for the better. And give her a chance with the office Lorcan.
And suddenly YOU are the one in the way.
August 28th, 2008 at 4:34 pm
67
Anyone here been to a school reunion? Don’t do it. And for the love of god don’t try to rekindle teenage love affairs.
I don’t even want to discuss it.
August 28th, 2008 at 4:38 pm
68
Is she gone?
August 28th, 2008 at 5:08 pm
69
Mother of fuck…where the hell did she/it come from. Talk about being full of shite and having to let it all go…
Moderate moderate
August 29th, 2008 at 8:30 am
70
…. did he arrive mid-plop or what?
August 29th, 2008 at 11:47 pm
71
Sunday Round-Up #5 says:
[...] This post by Twenty Major. This guy is simply hilarious, but a post all about whether or not to take a shit while waiting for someone to arrive? You can’t beat that sort of material. There really should be more posts on this topic in the blogosphere. [...]
August 31st, 2008 at 12:42 pm
72
I sit down and begin the unfurling the doorbell will go.
Uncurling surley.?
August 31st, 2008 at 6:25 pm
73
Mad one, very funny.
August 31st, 2008 at 8:11 pm
74