Simple Pleasures

[Ducky]

I don't hate Costa or Starbucks coffee,its grand,but you can't beat coffee a local place.

I can only drink black coffee so they're fine for me. And to be fair to Costa, their large black coffee is like a bucketful of the stuff.

[Eoin McLove]

 

Nothing worse than having an audience when you need to unleash brown Hell!

[Ducky]

Years back i was cycling down in Kerry for the day,after i downed a massive mik chocolate protein drink.Hopped into the car and headed back for Cork,about 10 kilometres from Macroom i got an unmerciful rumble in my stomach!.Basically everything in my stomach felt like it just wanted to blast out my arse hole!.
Im in big  trouble here!,i could barely drive the car,i was bent over the steering wheel in agony!,every last ounce of energy was trying to focus on not shitting my pants!.
I was absolutely sweating buckets!,driving about 150kpm on fuckin windy kerry roads to try and make it to Macroom to find a jax!.I can remember flying in the entrance of a hotel carpark (must have been doing 80kpm),abandoned the car across various spaces and doing a weird run/womble across the carpark,burst into the jax in the bar!.The moment of bliss when i got into the jax to find no one else in there!, and i could unleash whatever kind of ungodly sounds i wanted was utter heaven!

(To top it off i couldnt stand up after!,,the energy i burned trying to hold in the mother load coupled with the days cycling was just to much for me!)

I was a ways from the house the other day when the previous few days of laziness caught up with me - no movements for three days became a precarious 20 minute scramble back to the gaff.

I call it "Radcliffing".

Got home and laid a length of sea cable, happy out

[Bigmac]

Gardening while working from home. It's so nice taking 5 minutes from time to time to wander in the sun and check up on things throughout the day.

Just got four chickens too, some characters, really add that extra bit of life to the garden now.

The simple things.

[Ducky]

Sunning myself in the back garden with an ice cold Coke zero, some KP dry roasted (yes, those beauties again), noise cancelling headphones (for the noisy cunt neighbours) and some Cynic.

Whopper.

[Pedrito]

Years back i was cycling down in Kerry for the day,after i downed a massive mik chocolate protein drink.Hopped into the car and headed back for Cork,about 10 kilometres from Macroom i got an unmerciful rumble in my stomach!.Basically everything in my stomach felt like it just wanted to blast out my arse hole!.
Im in big  trouble here!,i could barely drive the car,i was bent over the steering wheel in agony!,every last ounce of energy was trying to focus on not shitting my pants!.
I was absolutely sweating buckets!,driving about 150kpm on fuckin windy kerry roads to try and make it to Macroom to find a jax!.I can remember flying in the entrance of a hotel carpark (must have been doing 80kpm),abandoned the car across various spaces and doing a weird run/womble across the carpark,burst into the jax in the bar!.The moment of bliss when i got into the jax to find no one else in there!, and i could unleash whatever kind of ungodly sounds i wanted was utter heaven!

(To top it off i couldnt stand up after!,,the energy i burned trying to hold in the mother load coupled with the days cycling was just to much for me!)

I was a ways from the house the other day when the previous few days of laziness caught up with me - no movements for three days became a precarious 20 minute scramble back to the gaff.

I call it "Radcliffing".

Got home and laid a length of sea cable, happy out

I think almost more pleasurable than the act itself, (which is certainly one of the great pleasures in life) is the infinite number of ways that one can describe a sweet pungent shite. It's one of those things that our earliest ancestors were laughing to eachother about and no matter what advances in technology come about there'll still be men all over the multiverse communicating, through spoken language or telepathy, about the great pride they take in their excretory accomplishments.

[Ducky]

It's a fundamental, shared experience

A mate of mine had two lads in his Master's class that were a couple. Every Wednesday night was "poo night" where the two boyos would hang out and compare photos of their poo for the week. Apparently (with everything else working as it should), Thursday morning poops were usually most similar due to sharing a meal without fail on the previous evening 😳

[Black Shepherd Carnage]

Sure communal shitting has only been phased out in very recent history. Paradise lost indeed!

[Ducky]

I also lament the fact none of us will ever lay a potential coprolite.

[Kurt Cocaine]

I also lament the fact none of us will ever lay a potential coprolite.

Would an Alaskan Pipeline count?

[astfgyl]

While we are on the subject, I was working on a house build out in the countryside years ago and there was no plumbing yet, so if needs be I had to go in the woods next to the site. The only four people there were myself and 3 Russian lads who had only the phrase "my friend" and pointing as a means of communication. Anyway I was busting for a shite during the day so I skipped down the roof and flaked it out to the woods. I said I'd go nice and far as I knew the smell would be rough and I shuffled through the undergrowth cramping along. Saw a big fallen tree, thought this will do, so skirted to one side of it and squatted and let an awful shite complete with loud relief sounds. Grand job, wiped up, stood up to lift the britches and as I looked over the other side of the fallen tree up looks one of the Russian lads from the squatting position at the very same lark letting one off and he says "Hello my friend!" real enthusiastically. It was probably funnier in my head but the shitting with an audience comment reminded me of it

[Eoin McLove]

  ii

[Pedrito]

  that's class.

There was one of those audio stories going around there during the coron lockdown on whatsapp. Some Dub lad who went out to the beach during the virus with the kids. Nothing was open and he suddenly got this unholy urge to go for a shite. Decided he'd run up into the dunes, praying noone would see him. So he's finishing up and next thing this labrador comes running up the dunes towards him. He's just about pulling up the pants when the owner pops the head over the dune saying 'Rosie where are you? Oh there you are. Oh we'd better clean this up'. Yer man there trying to shuffle down off the dune while yer one picks his big brown shite up in the plastic bag. Cat.

(Sounds better in a jarnowhorimean Dublin accent).

[Ducky]

Jesus Christ that's a modern classic

[Paul keohane]

   jesus i hope that story is true!