|
Rutibex posted:here you go OP, this will change your pooping life: Nice posture but for a good poo poo you gotta take off your pants, especially if they're white.
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 06:43
|
|
|
|
| # ? May 15, 2024 23:57 |
|
|
I drive 40mins to work and i have half a litre of instant coffee and 4 cigarettes and spend the first 10mins of my shift making GBS threads on the clock . If this isnt a pro tip i dunno what is.
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 06:45
|
|
|
Sometimes i shift my body to the left and more poo poo comes out after i think im done
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 06:45
|
|
|
Isaac posted:Sometimes i shift my body to the left and more poo poo comes out after i think im done I hate when I finish wiping, get up to wash my hands, and immediately feel another knock at my back door it's like saying goodbye to everyone at the party, walking out to your car, and realizing you forgot your keys. gotta go through all that poo poo *again*? gently caress it I'm just gonna take uber, which is bathroom lingo for 'poo poo your pants'
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 06:52
|
|
|
bobthedinosaur posted:If you know it's gonna be a big one, cue up AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" on your MP3 player and try to hold it until after the intro is over. How do you know when the intro is over? it just sounds like it keeps going even when he starts singing
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 07:04
|
|
|
Unicorns use squatty potty so it must be good https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YbYWhdLO43Q
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 07:24
|
|
|
Chrpno posted:How do you know when the intro is over? it just sounds like it keeps going even when he starts singing About a minute and fifty seconds in. The anticipatory response because you know you'll finally poo poo soon will be unbearable.
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 08:06
|
|
|
leica posted:Unicorns use squatty potty so it must be good wow, this is legitimately one of the greatest ads I've ever seen. I'm converted
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 08:45
|
|
|
if u don't want to buy a squatty potty just take ur pants off and squat on the toilet seat, pretend that ur a skijumper and just poo poo all over the place
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 08:46
|
|
|
Fart Puzzle posted:if u don't want to buy a squatty potty just take ur pants off and squat on the toilet seat, pretend that ur a skijumper and just poo poo all over the place squatting directly on the toilet seat, without the use of a squatty potty(tm) is for autistic college roommates who leave turds on the seat. I'm pretty sure I learned that right here in gibbis.
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 08:53
|
|
|
1. open gbs 2. poo poo on your keyboard 3. grind your rear end into that mess, be very thorough
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 10:12
|
|
|
post and poo poo at the same time like me
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 11:20
|
|
|
Fate, that's what it was. It must have been Fate that had decided to finally reward me for all those years of frustration and loneliness. There I was, eleven years old and never even talked to a female outside of my family, much less found out if they were human or, as I had long suspected, from some sexy alien world in a distant galaxy. Being sent to an all boy's school from a young age does odd things to your brain. So, there I was, hormones zipping around without purpose in my skinny frame, waiting for the coach that was to whisk us away to South Wales on an adventure holiday in the sun. The usual semi-chaos; a gaggle of excited boys eager to get on the coach and get to the back seats, the teachers discussing how best to get hammered and still satisfy the Health and Safety requirements of looking after 30 eleven-year-old boys. Suddenly, my tongue unfurled like a carpet, as around the corner came... a girl. My heart jumped up into my throat, causing me no small discomfort, as I turned to my mate, Jago (don't ask, not that you can), and said "Err.who's that?" "That," he replied, "is Doris. She's Mr. Wartenburg's." "Oh." I quipped in return. At that precise moment my brain was not firing on any cylinders. There was room for only one thought, and that was; ".... ............ ..... ....... . . .. .... ...." This was accompanied by a faint buzzing. Eventually, I started to become aware of my surroundings, and my thought processes developed to repeating the name "Doris" over and over again. She was easily the most beautiful woman I had ever seen outside of a television or magazine, competing as she was with my family. How had this heavenly creature sprung forth from the loins of our stupid-bearded german teacher? Shouldn't she at least vaguely look like her parents? Had her mother had an affair? Or was it like when Kermit and Miss Piggy had kids, and all the boys were frogs, and all the girls were pigs (neatly avoiding a hybrid called Frigs)? Anyway, Doris could not have looked less like her father if someone had hit her with a train. Metaphorically speaking. If you see what I mean. Then she smiled at me. The next few days were a bit of a blur, to be honest with you. I seemed to spend most of my time lost in a world of Doris Wartenburg. I don't think anybody else noticed, at least I hope they didn't, but all my efforts were a thinly veiled attempt to impress her. I went rock climbing and abseiling, even though I can't stand heights. I went kayaking and sailing, even though I hate open bodies of water because of all the monsters that lurk just beneath the surface. I entered the table tennis competition and nearly won, lent determination by the thought of Doris watching me. I taught origami to the other kids, hoping my paper folding skills would score me some points, any points. I volunteered to help with the washing up. All of it was for Doris. It was the greatest week of my life. I didn't even care that her name was Doris Wartenburg. I was in heaven. Then Friday arrived. Our last day in Penarthur, our final chance to exlore the splendour of the Brecon Beacons, was to be spent hiking up Pen-Y-Fan. The weather was perfect, a beautiful sunny day, but with a slight chill to the air, as we rose with the sun to get a nice early start. Doris sat next to me on the bus as we set off, and I just knew today would be one to remember. The day was spectacular, the views from the summit of the table-top mountain managed to cut through my acrophobia and leave me breathless. The alternate view - of Doris in her blue jeans, hiking boots and big fluffy sweater - left me wondering what she would look like without the blue jeans, hiking boots and big fluffy sweater. Jesus, I wanted to see her naked. And so we began the long trek back to the bus, a good hour's walk across a nice flat landscape with only the occasional small lake to break the monotony and the odd tussock. Heh. Tussocks. Not to put too fine a point on it, nowhere to take a crap. Which I really needed to do. Badly. You know how it is sometimes, when you can't hold it in any longer, and it's poo poo or die? I didn't want to die. Luckily, as far as luck goes in these situations, it wasn't one of those liquid poos. It was solid enough to nestle in the back of my underwear, concealed by the long jumper I was wearing. I was reasonably confident that I wouldn't be found out purely on a visual basis. I was a little concerned about the smell, as it was a small bus we were on, but I can only assume that everyone else's nasal cavities were as bunged up as mine from the cold air at the top of the mountain, as nobody appeared to notice. Could it be that I was going to get away with this? I muttered a silent prayer and made sure not to sit too close to Doris. On our arrival back at headquarters, I immediately made for the toilet block, picking up a fresh pair of underwear from my dorm along the way. Locking myself in a cubicle, I managed to clean myself up and, donning the new, squeaky clean underpants, congratulated myself on the crime of the century. Now, what to do with these poo poo-stained pants? Being of a conscientious nature, I decided it would be a good idea to give them a quick wash, so they wouldn't be too smelly when I returned home the following day so, checking the coast was clear, I went over to one of the sinks and proceeded to clean the aforementioned stinky underpants under the tap. At which point I could hear approaching footsteps. What should I do? Stay put, and run the risk of having to explain my actions? Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, I quickly returned to the cubicle, but alas! Too late! I had been spotted, apparently running suspiciously into a cubicle from the sink, where I had left the tap running. I heard whoever it was walk over to the sink, then shout, "Eeeuuurrgghh!!!!! You've poo poo in the sink, you sick wanker. Uuurrgghh, that's disgusting. Oh man, wait 'til I tell everyone about this!" and, whatever business he came in for forgotten, he ran from the toilets, his cries of "Jim poo poo in the sink! Hey, everyone, Jim poo poo in the sink!!!" fading into the distance. Needless to say, it took a while for me to summon enough courage to emerge from the toilet block and, shamefacedly, try to explain what had happened. The teachers seemed to accept my story, but I'm sure that secretly the teachers, and not so secretly my fellow pupils, didn't believe a word of it. As for Doris, I don't think she really cared what anybody else thought, and on the journey home she fell asleep on my shoulder, her warmth feeding my soul for the three hours it took to get back to London. And do you know the strangest thing about that week? Looking back I realize that throughout the entire week, Doris and I probably exchanged only three words, and two of those were "Hi." I forget the third.
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 12:24
|
|
|
tl;dr Who posts more than two sentences in a poop thread
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 17:24
|
|
|
I bring the newspaper into the bathroom with me. Life hacks
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 17:26
|
|
|
Do a handstand and poo poo on your back. Try doing a cartwheel mid-diarrhea and you are now a live performance art version of Jackson pollock!
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 17:40
|
|
|
When sitting on the toilet, pretend you are powering up to transform into Super Saiyan level 2. Your poo poo will blast right outta there.
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 20:01
|
|
|
maintain a healthy balanced diet and regular sleep schedule
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 20:06
|
|
|
Change whatever you drink in the morning (coffee, energy drinks, or what have you), and drink magnesium citrate instead.
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 20:14
|
|
|
stay hydrated poop naked
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 20:26
|
|
|
Have lots of rear end hair!
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 20:32
|
|
|
im drunk at work
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 20:33
|
|
|
MiracleWhale posted:squatting directly on the toilet seat, without the use of a squatty potty(tm) is for autistic college roommates who leave turds on the seat. I'm pretty sure I learned that right here in gibbis. There was an old white guy that regularly used to come into where I worked (restaurant) a decade ago and hosed our toilet up by squatting on it and putting weird displaced weight on the bowl. We wondered why our toilet was rocking, and found it had been loosened from the floor. We realized it was this guy, but couldn't figure out the reason. Anyway, one day after he left the bathroom we went in to see if he'd done something and found shoe prints on the seat and a huge turd chilling on the back of the seat, half hanging into the bowl. We had the owner give him a stern talking to the next time he came in and after that he never used our toilet again.
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 20:44
|
|
|
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 21:32
|
|
|
Serious comment, don't strain or you'll get hemeroids at age 15 and need to have like 12 very painful surgeries to correct them.
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 21:48
|
|
|
You could always just have your colon removed and poo poo into a bag. Think of all the time saved!
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 21:55
|
|
|
Drone_Fragger posted:Serious comment, don't strain or you'll get hemeroids at age 15 and need to have like 12 very painful surgeries to correct them. what do you think the average age of goons is
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 22:01
|
|
|
Mahnarch posted:You could always just have your colon removed and poo poo into a bag. i know a chick who had a colostomy and she is p chill about it but it took her awhile to get used to having her shitbag smushed between her and the dude when she's getting banged pretty much ended her one night stands
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 22:02
|
|
|
Drone_Fragger posted:Serious comment, don't strain or you'll get hemeroids at age 15 and need to have like 12 very painful surgeries to correct them. I got food poisoning a couple months back and after all those hours on the toilet I'm pretty sure my rear end in a top hat looked like zoidberg's face
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 22:25
|
|
|
Robo Reagan posted:i know a chick who had a colostomy and she is p chill about it but it took her awhile to get used to having her shitbag smushed between her and the dude when she's getting banged I dunno how this works exactly, but can't you temporarily remove the shitbag or put it off to the side or something? is there no alternative to having a hairy man smash his gut into your shitbag all night?
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 22:28
|
|
|
Rutibex posted:here you go OP, this will change your pooping life: squatting really does help but i'm cheap so i just poo poo on the floor
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 22:37
|
|
|
arch your back and press your knees together, don't be afraid to break a sweat
|
|
#
?
Dec 17, 2015 22:49
|
|
|
The best doodies are the kind you really gotta stink your teeth into
|
|
#
?
Dec 18, 2015 23:59
|
|
|
I am in Ireland for a wedding I am making GBS threads black from drinking a ton of Guinness. Send flushable wipes.
|
|
#
?
Dec 19, 2015 00:19
|
|
|
|
| # ? May 15, 2024 23:57 |
|
|
Pvt Dancer posted:Nice posture but for a good poo poo you gotta take off your pants, especially if they're white. ya no poo poo no rly, pls don't poo poo
|
|
#
?
Dec 19, 2015 00:21
|
|
