Club Arnage

... and fancy a "24 kms du Mans" on Friday?

Starting at the MB entrance and going up past the museum, under the dual carriageway, right across parallel to the dual carriageway then back down towards Mulsanne, following circuit round to Porsche curves then up through old Maison Blanche stretch past Bleu and then round again. Should be about 28kms actually.

We might even have to stop for "water".

(Hey Gilles, what is the law in France for riding a push bike on the road after a few beers?)

A few years back after the champers bar on Satuday I fell between two vans while trying to negotiate the bike down the middle line of the road, as both lanes were full of virtually stationary traffic.

I got up and grinned inanely at the driver of the white van I'd fallen in front of, and at that point realised both vans were police vans. Miserable bastards didn't grin back.

Nor did my mates when I freewheeled straight into our beer mountain...

What's exactly is a psuh bike ? Is it what we call in France a "trotinette"? That's not supposed to be a kid toy?

Smokie

What make of vans were they??? I'll bet they were Peugeots.

Mr Vanarak

I couldn't see straight enough to tell that kind of detail...

A push bike is a normal bicycle Gilles.

Stu

Thanks Stu! Yeah, meant one with pedal power as opposed to "big throbbing between the legs" kinda power. So anyone with a MTB or even a full blown time-trial machine (leaving mine at home!!! ;) ) ?

Just thought a little exercise and fresh (ish) air might blow a way a few cobwebs prior to the onslaught of the weekend!

[attachment deleted by admin]

Me + Dreamracers have bought electric scooters from ebay....  8MPH ;D
not sure whether they will last the weekend but at 30 quid we arent too bothered!

Being of a squeamish disposition, I'm not sure it's entirely necessary to post this sort of thing. Oh? It is? Right-o.

In that case:

I had a similar experience, the downside being I was in Carpark Rouge where there are no bogs. I really was remarkably desperate, the fuse had about ten seconds left to burn. This was due to some cheap Boddingtons bought on the ferry which still had a yeast problem.

So I nipped into a tent handily pitched nearby, having first checked the occupants were not around. I think it belonged to some nice Germans or Dutch people and we were parked next to them. So in I went with me bog roll and black bin bag. Five minutes later, having nearly blown the back of the bag out, I tidied up and left.

I thought no more of it, until the next morning when the owners of the tent got up at about 8.00 to make a cup of coffee. They were remarkably cheerful, singing and joking. All of a sudden, I heard them go quiet. Then a terrible heaving and gakking noise could be heard, followed by some shouting. I lay on the floor feigning sleep. They packed up and left immediately. I discovered the source of their horror lying on the grass. A well soiled length of bog roll which I must have accidentally left lying in their tent. Obviously they had not seen it in the dark when they got back the night before. Poor bastards!

Question. If I ever see them again, should I aplogise?

You class acts you!!! No similarly impressive tales to tell on that score as I fear I cannot compete at this level. You guys are the Gloucester to my Charlton Park 3rds (cockney rhyming there???).

Nice to know that we can bring absolutely any topic down to our level though!

 :-X

The last few posts reminds me of a story my dad told me years ago.Nowt to do we push bikes tho.My dad used to drive an old steam,yes steam navvy,used for filling wagons with iron ore in the open cast mines near where we  lived.Him and his mate ,a fireman on the navvy(coal shoveler) and a general labour ,who was DEAF.There was no on site toilets in those days,so one went to the bushes.Well they sneeked up on this DEAF guy and waited until he was about to dump and placed this shovel under his straining sphincter and withdrew the turd filled shovel.They then watched his reaction from the refuge of the bushes.Well,you know when you've dumped but the poor guy must have had what he thought was a phantom dump.I'm sure they must still be laughing in their graves. R.L

All these toilet tales puts me in mind of a run down from the UK 2 years ago where during our supplies purchase at a Super U, my previous several days quaffing in England had caught-up with my colon and it was time to drop the kids off at the pool.

Having just emulated a space shuttle launch in the bog at the front of the supermarket, facing the main entrance, I was sitting there contemplating life and getting my breath back.

Unfortunately the "lock" on the door was no such thing and a middle aged lady promptly entered the bog I was in, screamed and fled, leaving the door wide-open to the supermarket main entrance.  To complicate things the door was easily 5 or 6 feet from the porcelin throne so I basically just sat there, strides around my ankles nodding at passers by.

All hail PM for the ability to turn a question relating to healthy exercise at an otherwise physically abusing event into a veritable feast of tales of woe arse-wise.

How do you do it? Does Ron know about this ability? Would he have posed for THAT photo at testing if he'd known about the sock? I think we should be told!

 ;D

On our way back to Cherbourg, 2001, we stopped at a mediocre supermarket for our "Booty" only to find the shelves stripped bare (no doubt by former visitors from this forum) So we decided to use the facilities before heading closer to the port to obtain supplies. We asked for directions to "Les Toilettes" and found ourselves at urinals on the outside wall of the building in the open that were in full view of the car park. Being so desperate, we had to partake but one of our group was so deaperate he had to brave the only "cubicle of hell" Whilst it was a single cubicle, with walls and a door (although still open air) it stunk to high heaven, looking as though it hadn't been flushed for at least three months, and the smell of the thing meant he deposited more from being ill at the smell than what went down the pan.

Anyone remember the old "crappers" on tribune?
A big round hut with the urinals on the outside, and wooden troughs outside to get washed in.

Eeee them were the days!!

This whole topic is by far the funniest I've read in moons.  Was having a shite day at work, am now LOL  !!!   ;D  Thanks chaps - keep'em coming...........

I remember in Chappelle a few years back when the campsite was still that, one of the "tardis" bogs was upended.  I felt sorry for the poor bugger whose tent was nearby and had gone off for a walkabout.  :-X

I think this was the same year that we had to put newspaper down on the car seats thanks to the yeast in the Boddingtons. We had run out of underpants, yet "accidents" kept occurring. We then nearly had the police called on us at 3.00 in the morning by a hotel owner who complained we were farting too loudly and waking up the other hotel guests.

PK, who is know as our Twisted Fire Started, always managed to vanish just before we set off for home.  Turned out the year we found out what he was up to was for a bog visit at the loos near the Merc stand (the year the Merc's flipped) cos his arse end back fired.  Poor little flower vanished to avoid the p*ss taking!  He did remark that they were the finest bogs in all of France!!  (More like any sh*t hole in a storm  ;D :-X :-\

Shall I take that as a "no" then?  ;D Wouldn't be the first time I end up doing something myself!! (oo-er missus!!) ..... pass the sock!

I am getting in some practice with mine so I can wipe the floor with both of you!!!   ;D ;)

I have no f**kin chance...  Carry too much excess weight, maybe you two can carry the beer - that should even things out!!

BTW - Hi Will!

Hubble Bubble, toilet trouble.
Not strictly LM, but in keeping with the thread I think...
Returning home one Saturday night when still a young lad, I nodded briefly at my parents watching the telly and managed to make it upstairs on all fours. After a few fitful hours in bed, I was having problems with my gyrocopes, and decided that I had to first of all, get vertical, and secondly, make it to the bog (naked) asap. Assuming the well known 'on the knees, arms round the bog, head in' position I had an absolutely marvellous and long lasting chunder, it went down to my boots, or it would have, if I'd been wearing them, and I knew it had sorted me out. Imagine my surprise when I drew a forearm across my mouth, and turned round to see the biggest pile of crap in christendom steaming away on the floor behind me. (Surely it couldn't have been me!)
Well, I couldn't leave it there. The list of suspects would have been short enough even for the West Midlands Crime Squad to make an arrest, so I did the best I could and cleared up. I remember, after what seemed like hours, standing up in the bog, with my hands on my hips and nodding to myself in a delusionally smug manner, over a job well done, and heading back to bed confident in the fact that no-one will ever be the wiser.
I was woken at 7:15 by my mother screaming.
In my drunken stupor, I'd manage to see a homely toilet, covered in crap from (almost) floor to ceiling, as a nice job. Shite had replaced the grout between the tiles. It was even on the Artex ceiling. At some stage I'd enlisted the help of the tea towel from the kitchen, and after what obviously looked like heavy use, had folded it up and hung it back over the oven door. My mother was like a mad woman, and I could see my Dad in the kitchen rolling his sleeves up... My bed was in a state almost as bad, I'd made a dirty protest without knowing it.
Still, I've grown up now.
H

A mate of mine took his dad out one misty Sunday morning to a horse fair, held in a pub car park. Seeing nothing interesting they had a pint or three and drove home down a clearway before dad wanted to stop for a call of nature behind a hedge. No, not here, but several miles later, things became urgent,

10 mins later dad was back in the car, they set off with heater on full blast and windows steaming up, and the smell of sh@t became too much.
They pulled over, did a shoe check (!) before dad took his jacket off to find shireem smeared thickly up his back.

He'd cr'pped onto his braces and while fastening them over his shoulder failed to spot the obvious! FTSE 100 or Follow through..sh1t everywhere as they say in VIZ.  :-X

I just luv sh1t stories for mirth... ;D

And I won't tell you about my grand descent down the stairs on the Brittany Ferry 2 years ago, having taken anti-biotics and not knowing they have a dramatic effect on one !

Regards

Bentley for 2003 eh what.

To all that have contributed to this thread,great stuff. Last night while being 9 hours into a 12 hour night shift, bored and pissed off, I read through this topic I finished up crying with laughter and an aching side, I nearly pissed myself, whoop's that could start another thread. Thanks you fellow CA's. This is what this site is about, wit and good humour and the odd bit of info on motor sport.
Great stuff.
Brian.

Same shift as Brian (Same place) What is BigH on?? cos I'll have a lorry load!!

H

Perhaps Rex's Dad snuck up behind you and put down a shovelful of "Stoker's Revenge".

One of our lads " 10 dumps " as he is now known had a bit of a jippy tum a few years back, on walking back to the tent at dawn on the sunday , was greeted by the sound of tent zip opening, his startled face appear. He rushed out and leapt over over the nearest fence. On hitting the ground he followed through, so had to leave his pants next to his pile..