Rally GutsOne too many kebabs, a few too many pints of old knob rotter’s extra peculiar ale and a burger with brand XXX extra nasty chilli sauce. Well it seemed a good idea at the time. But come Sunday morning and your colon is losing the battle and an all out surrender is just around the corner. So you waddle off to the toilets. As the intestinal battle rages the waddle becomes more noticeable. You convince yourself that the toilets are that far away. You convince yourself that the toilets won’t be that bad, someone will have cleaned them. Your stomach gurgles loudly. Things are getting a bit urgent now. Your pace quickens and the waddle turns from a gentle saunter in to a strange waddling run. From a distance you now look like one of those speed walkers. Small children stop and point and giggle as you steam past them. And steam is a good description because at this point there is more sweat on your brow. As you pass the laughing kids your face looks stern and is set in a look of intense concentration. A sudden sharp pain in the lower abdomen makes you jerk to a stop and clench. Your eyes widen and your nostrils flare. After a few seconds the pain goes and you continue the camp site waddle stopping every so often to clench and flare. The sweat is now running freely down your face and the pains are more like contractions. You approach the toilets and your nose gets assaulted by the odour. Assaulted is actually the wrong way to describe the way your nose is affected by the toilets. To be more accurate your nose is taken out side for spilling the smell’s pint then given a right good kicking, then invites all its mates along to slap you around until your vision blurs. There is no way you could use these toilets. The battle rages in your stomach. Your cheeks are permanently clenched now and you are walking like you have spent a week in a Turkish jail. Then, suddenly, the pain goes. The gurgling stops. You walk back to the tent and convince your self that you can make it home. Because it is a well known fact there is no better toilet than your own, and if you are going to commit GBH to the porcelain you would at least like to do it in the comfort of your own home. You get on your bike and set off home. However, you are unaware your stomach has gone in to rally shut down. This is a strange state where the intestines go in to a kind of dormant state and will only re awaken just five minutes away from home. This is the same dormant state most employees at McDonalds go into, only waking up five minutes before they go home. You see a sign post at the side of the road saying that you only have 20 miles left to go. This is where you find out that your rally shut down timer is faulty. It should keep you safe until five minutes from home. You start to sweat. 19.7 miles to go. The gurgles start and they seem to be mocking you. You are sweating so much now that your visor starts to mist up. Bloody hell the traffic lights are on red. You have to fart, but dare you? You look around and luckily there are no children around. You lean over slowly to the left, lifting one cheek off the seat and gently let out a fart in a very steady and controlled manner trying not to put any pressure behind it. The fart seems endless. A couple of pedestrians pass by and you over hear one say ‘sounds like the exhaust blowing on that bike’. The lights change and you pull away. The pain in your lower abdomen has returned and makes you sit bolt upright. From a distance you look like a BMW rider but you don’t care anymore. As you ride home you decide that you are going to go for it as time is running out. You ride like a white van man for most of the way home and then with only 8 miles left to go you suddenly find that every little bump in the road brings pain. You slow down. You become very aware of the road surface and each little bump and pot hole issues forth a new and more intense flurry of farting. It’s like your very own anal orchestra in your leathers. Because of the pain you are now riding at 2 miles an hour. Your riding instructor would be proud with your slow riding abilities. As you turn a corner you notice a speed hump and you burst in to tears. Usually these speed humps you take at 50 and try to keep the front wheel down as you blast down the road but today you are being over taken by a pensioner in an electric buggy. As they speed past you it you wave your fist in the air and shout ‘MANIAC’ as you get caught in their slip stream. Even though you were never that good at mental arithmetic at school you are now an expert and you know that you have exactly 5.376 miles left to go, but if you take a short cut through the local spar down the freezer isle and out the back you will avoid two speed humps and shave off a massive 0.126 miles. What you find more worrying is that you are seriously contemplating doing this. But it is at times like this that the human mind becomes incredibly focused and you realise that you are only 0.4765 miles away from your friend’s house and they will be in and more importantly they have a downstairs toilet! Turning in to your friend’s street the contractions become more violent and the pressure makes you undo the top off your leathers. It is a weird fact of evolution that you have discovered your bowels have Armitage shanks proximity detectors. As you pull the bike up to the door you have a quick panic attack as you have not actually worked out how to get off the bike without erupting. Various neighbours watch through the net curtains as you gently slide off the side of the bike on to the floor with a whimper. Your friend’s front door opens and you force them against the wall as you barge past them walking like a member of Kraftwerk. As you pass them you shout out ‘MOVE……………toilet…………..NOW…………..breach birth…………..oooohhhh it’s engaged!!!!!!!’ The relief is immense and even though you know you will be spending the next six months apologising to your friend for the state of the bathroom it was worth it. All seven glorious seconds of it. It would be a good idea to buy lots of bleach and a year’s supply of toilet duck. As you walk out of the toilet you smile to your self as you realise there is a way you can kill a cactus.                                                                                                                                                                              

I am sorry....but I can't read that colour text :(                                                                                                                                                                             

Thats better....thanks                                                                                                                                                                             

lol                                                                                                                                                                             

I'll be watching out for that now lol                                                                                                                                                                              

been there done that......I remember shouting" MUMMY PLEASE MAKE IT STOP" whimpering as the I managed to sit with out actually having a violent explosion of the butt before reaching a sighting position on the loo, sweat rolling down my face then blast off!!!!!!! and shouting "NURSE!!!!!!!".   It is at this point as the noise and smell that envelopes the Motorway services that you hear kids start to cry and shout "Mummy PLEASE make it go away" and then I recall screaming" MEDIC SEND A MEDIC"!   ...and then it was all over lol..the relief is immense, a satisfied and spent look comes across your face......and a promise not to eat dodgy kebab ever again...   .............of course it was the food nothing to do with the alcohol.....bloody food venders....lol                                                                                                                                                                               

JUst think, it could be a lot worse if you exploded in yr leathers, think of the cost of getting them cleaned                                                                                                                                                                             

That would be a bucket and out with the credit card to buy new I think lol                                                                                                                                                                             

I fink I have 2 agree with you there JB                                                                                                                                                                             

i am soo looking forward to the farmyard now ! lol.....all these loverley thoughts to keep me going..............ummmmmmmmmmmmm                                                                                                                                                                             

Oh Jeezz!!! I nearly died laughing!!!!                                                                                                                                                                              

ROFL                                                                                                                                                                              

. .nice one shadow!!
Stick to toast next time :>