Thread: Continue The Story

not really thinking sat down and did his business only to find that there was no toilet paper or bum gun. With a big sigh he

pulled up his pants over his shitty arse and walked head bowed out into the fresh summers day

his needs were exigent,therefore he had no other option so he

he needed to find bog roll before his arse cheeks became inflamed

and my god the smell! It was nauseating. He once more wished he'd passed on the extra spicy Som Tam with fermented

Goats entrails. But now his needs were pressing, pressing up the cheeks of his behind and squeaking out the crack at the top.

a place for a legendary crap was much needed. He looked about..

and saw a GPO post box, thats was it, not perfect but when needs must

however due to the fact they were on strike it was locked up so he went and dumped it sideways in

fit of rage and frustration. He could feel leakage. Time was of the essence. "Where to deposit this foul malodourous load?" he screamed in frustration. Then he spotted a 7-11. With bumcheeks firmly clenched, he hobbled his way towards it....

frustrateingly though it was closed, and with pressing needs this was indeed turning out to be one of the most

outstanding feats of human endurance know to man,,,

then there was a strong rumbling sound, and our hero was unable to keep
his bumcheeks clenched and ...........

so he planted his arse firmly on top of a road bollard to plug his impending release and give him time to formulate a dignified bowel evacuation

As the sharp edge of the sign bit down into his soft buttocks, he paused to reflect the seriousness of the situation

while smoking a cigarette, the cigarette was however not the best idea as it caused him to relax a little too much

And in went the bollard, accompanied by a howl even a rapid wolf would've tipped its hat to, if wolves wore hats that is...now with a bollard wedged where the sun thankfully never shines, he hobbled onwards, firmly plugged. One problem solved, he thought to himself...

but what about the building pressure? would the bollard become a missile if he didn't release the copious amount of shite from his inners

He hobbled quickly...until he came to a hotel. A high class joint, the only obviously open place around. A surly doorman blocked his way...

"Can I kelp you sir" he said in a menacing tone, to the awkward and grossly uncomfortable looking man

He turned his back slowly on the doorman, bent over as far as he could, gritted his teeth and

nothing happened. The bollard was wedged in good and tight. He now realised he needed to get to a hospital...

the door man thought so too after seeing what our hero was trying to do to him and he gave him an almighty kick up the arse to help him on his way

Sprawled on the floor, bollard wedged good and proper, full of the foulest concoction ever devised by a dietary tract in the history of mankind, our hero was truly at his lowest point. However, a friendly tuk tuk driver pulled up and said "you want see sexy show sir?"