Yes, but is it art?

Many years ago...

In the 6th form common room during morning break, I was approached by a mate of mine who pronounced that I "HAVE to come and see this".

I followed, only to curse my judgement as he led the way to the toilet.

And there it was.

In front of one of the cubicle doors was a "Vive la France" French textbook, topped by what can only be described as a Mr Whippy. It was coiled, with a point for christs sake! How the protagonist managed it without the aid of a piping bag I'll never know.

Anyway, this silent, pungent protest against the French language became the 'must see' attraction of the break-time until the janitor cleared it away.

New girlfriend....BIG shit

When I was 19 odd I managed to cop off with a rather charming bit of Posh totty from one of the posh girls schools near me...she was 16...gorgeous big boobs tucked into a tight white shirt and looked a wee bit like Helena Christiansen...anyway after regulary giving her a bit for about 3 months she finally plucked up the courage to introduce the rather chav like me to her mum and dad...I turned up after a night on the pop needing a MASSIVE shit..so I made my excuses and ventured into their downstairs W/C...I tried in vain to baffle the impending huge splash with some toilet paper however i was in a bit of a fix as there was only enought to either wipe my underneath or baffle the splash..I chose the former and let IT go..the resulting splosh must have been heard in france as a fucking CABLE slithered into the toilet accomapnied by the most revolting stench Id ever encountered. It took at least 3 fucking flushes to get rid and then there was the state of the bowl..it looked like the starting grid at monza and no Brush to get rid of the evidence, no airfreshener to hide the stench, the window wouldnt open and the radiator was on....I beat a very hasty retreat shortly after emerging from the scene of my crime.....

Hiding the shitty pants...

A couple of years ago my department at work were awarded a reward and recognition weekend up in Edinburgh, trainees, workshy gits, managers the lot. Well after being out on the sauce all day, we arrived back at the hotel somewhat the worse for wear. I thought I was about to fart, how wrong I was. Not wishing to put my soiled underwear in the bin, I took them off and tied them in a carrier bag, the intention being to throw them away on the following morning. So I showered and went to bed. The next morning I forgot about the shitty pants and another day was spent on the razz, getting drunk much to the horror of a Manager who was a right cow. Anyway the morning we were departing back for London, I suddenly remembered the offending pants, I opened the cupboard but they had gone.. I asked my room mate Frammers if he'd seen them and he started chuckling and refused to comment. So I let it go. Anyway we were all checking in at the airport, when aforementioned manager went to get her ticket out of her hand luggage to find a shit laden pair of boxer shorts in her bag.....oh how we laughed. To this day she has no idea who did it, a fact that causes me and frammers no end of smugness when we're being berated in a meeting by her.