Air Fresheners and Toilet Blocks

I would like to cunt my personal pet hate, air fresheners and toilet blocks. I fucking hate the sickly cloying pine fresh aroma more than the smell of wet dog and stale ashtrays. Unfortunately Mrs Magiccunt is very easily influenced by the power of advertising and rushes out to purchase the latest innovation in plug in scent dispensers or toilet deoderising systems. Just open the fucking window if you don’t like the smell of shit! And how the fuck am I supposed to know if there is blood in my bowel motions if the water is blue? The V.I.Poo adverts?!!?! How much does that fucking campaign cost? And I don’t want chemicals splashing up my arse when I’m playing sink the Belgrano.

This cunting is brought to you by Johnson and Johnson, a family of cunts company.

Nominated by Themagiccunt

23 thoughts on “Air Fresheners and Toilet Blocks

  1. Honestly, if you’d seen the shitters in my workplace you’d be considering pine fresh an advanced technology.
    Not only does the fresh smell stop people realising they have cancerous bowels (thereby assisting evolution) but it also disinfects the stool so the cunts can safely hold it in their bear hands when using it as a crayon.
    There really is a reason for this stuff…

  2. Embrace the stank. Or fix your diet. Don’t be a puss and try to mask it with a bouquet of flowers for fucks sake, all it does is betray your insecurity – thus why women buy this shite.

    Can it be used to mask the shit that comes out the other end? That’s the real question I feel.

    • Apparently a fistful of pine fresh pushed forcefully into the mouth does indeed kill 99% of all known speech.

  3. Yep, I know these things can be overpowering and noxious for some, but they really are pretty useful, especially when you are a lazy cunt like me who hates cleaning the bathroom, so a spray of ‘Febreze’ does the job in 10 seconds… is like a team of deep cleaners have been in that rancid bog.

    Air fresheners are also crucial for health and safety reasons. After an ex of mine had been in the toilet, I needed either a gas mask or a large puke bucket to deal with his honking shite. Opening a window would simply not suffice……you’d need to wrecking ball through the fucking walls.

    • You’re damned right Nurse. Some faint hearted souls seem to take offence when you don a gas mask when going into cubicle after them.

    • I thoroughly recommend that bog bleach that kills 99% of all known germs. Mind you if Dominic Grieve or Chukaspear Umunna used your crapper I am sure there would be a few unknown germs in it

      • There would be a couple of HUGE germs SITTING ON IT too!

        (The type you cannot get rid of with bog cleaner either)

  4. Surely the most awkward moment in any toilet is the first time you encounter a nightclub toilet attendant.

    A beggar in a suit who thinks the weirdness of watching you at the urinal is cancelled out, because he will pass you a towel after you’ve washed your hands and then spray you with some watered down aftershave, all for a paper money tip.

    You work in a khasi….fuck off….

  5. I know this sounds very Mumsnet but fresh flowers and vanilla scented air freshener and candles around the house are lovely. Pine is horrible; like a pound shop buy out of the pound shop bargain bucket.

    • My prison penfriend Rose West loves scented candles, but they had a serious basement odour issue.

  6. I remember once coming back on the train after a couple of days in York for the races. I went for a shit and even I had to admit that it was ripe. When I opened the door to come out there was a woman stood with her young child,ready to go in. I closed the door behind me to give myself a bit of escape time..just as well..when the woman opened it,she must have got a snoutfull. I heard the “My God..” as I retreated and sat down with my friends. However,the best part was watching the child trying to lock his arms on the door frame wailing “No, Mummy,it smells” as the Mother shoved the unfortunate child through the door into the Stinkhole from Hell..”You wanted to go,you go now”….She must have been really sick of that kid.
    How unfortunate that I don’t have a can of Vipoo to hand to spare that poor child, I didn’t think as we all sat laughing and cheering when the Mother finally let the green-looking brat out.
    Fuck them

    • I always used to like to take a shit when the train was stopped at a station. I used to like to imagine some family tearfully waving goodbye to their loved one as they stood on the platform,only to be confronted with a steaming great turd sitting on the track where their Darling had just boarded when the train pulled out.

      Fuck Off.

    • Afternoon Mr F.
      I’d be interested to know what effect being a (receiving) bumlord has upon one’s pooing habits.
      What do you reckon?
      I’d imagine an elderly practicing botter would have to wear some sort of arse tampon in his slack-sprung vent?
      Perhaps one of our resident friendly homosexuals can, er…”fill me in”, as it were.

      • Morning, Mr. C-E.

        Butt-plugs…The Gays never go out without ramming one up there. That is why they all have that mincing walk. Apparently it has become a real problem at the crematoriums..the batteries in the vibrating butt-plugs that have become the norm for the better-off Gays have been exploding, causing an unholy mixture of hamster parts and shite that blocks the gas nozzles of the oven.
        I’d ban them.

  7. Good cunting Themagiccunt.

    Lady Creampuff uses a product called OUST, which to be fair has quite an effective neutralising effect, without simply masking one vile stench with something even worse. Needless to say, I rarely bother using anything.

    PS: Is Jack the Cunter still a Mumsnet aficionado?

    • Having spent some time in Berlin over Christmas / New Year helping ex with international move, the good news is that german crappers no longer have the out-of-water investigation platform (or a thoughtfully provided fork for rummaging around in your solids. The bad news is that they are still shallow, and WOEFULLY short of water coverage; I am forced to assume that Herr Flick and friends love the smell of their own scheiss, which is probably why Merkel is still around; she looks like half a ton of the brown squidgy stuff.

  8. The world can’t be all bad when you can still come on here and get a bit of cunting like this.

    • I nominate Mr. Fiddler’s train and brat story as one of the funniest things I have read in a long rime. I nearly pissed myself reading it.

      I just wish Dominic Grieve or the Soubry cunt had been the victim. I would have superglued the door shut after them – what a way to go – gassed 🙂

  9. Some classic ones, especially in the bogs on the motorway services. I went to have a piss in one cubicle on the M42 services, opened the seat and a fucking giant foot long shit was standing upright out of the pan like a squaddie on parade. Some poor constipated cunt must have been storing it up for a fortnight before he dropped darkie off at the pool, as I mistook it for an escaped Burmese Python.

    I should have taken a photo on my phone and sent it to National Geographic. It stood vertical like a shuttle prior to launch with a bed of bog paper wrapped underneath it like a fucking duvet. Dynorod…more like a team of Canadian lumberjacks to saw that cunt up into manageable blocks.
    I bet that poor twat was three stones lighter when he dumped his payload. Fuck me, I’ve seen some crazy shit in my time, but that took the biscuit.

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