Doesn't Center know I have to urinate!?

[banned username 2]

This guy had to puke. He grabs the bag and spends about a minute trying to open it (I know, rocket science). Finally he just rips one end off (the bottom of course), opens it up and pukes right through it all over the old lady sitting next to him. Needless to say, she than pukes. The sympathetic puking went like a rocket throughout the plane. We had 13 of 19 pax puke that flight. It was my personal record. The FO and I had to open the side windows. Gotta love those hot, bouncy days over the canyon.

Another time Scenic had a full plane of Japanese (half of Scenic's business is Japanese tourist) including a company tour guide on board. When they landed at the canyon, no one would get off the plane when the ramper opened the door. Finally he climbed the stairs to motion them off when the pilots heard him start cussing up a storm. He went to the side cockpit door and asked the Captain to climb down so he could show him something. There was a big steamer sitting on the cabin floor in front of the door. The tour guide (only one who spoke English) explained that the pax wanted it cleaned up before they would deplane. The Captain asked her who did it and she said she didn't know and that the pax said it was there when they boarded. The Captain called BS to this. He said that since she was sitting in the exit seat right by the door, was obviously lying and was a company employee responsible for the tour group, she could clean it up. The pilots and ramper walked away. When they returned to the plane 15 minutes latter, the pax were gone and so was the steamer.

My gut is killing me from laughing so hard!!!!!!!!!!

thanks for the laugh guys, I needed it!!!!

Fly Safe (and clean!)

 

[browntail]

I worked with a friend at a job several years ago that had the most outrageous crap story. He is flying his route one evening with a friend riding along when all of a sudden he has this major urge to dump! It starts to get so bad that he can barely fly. He asks his friend to take over the controls, but his buddy is having a problem seeing and can't fly for him. He has to call center and change his destination to an airport right below his present postion. He finally gets it down and sees this FSS on the field. He goes up to the door, but it is locked! He ends up crapping in the grass and using his underwear to wipe his arse with. He then throws the underwear on the roof of the building. After that we sent him depends and immodium AD through the company mail for a week. LOL!!!

I also knew another guy that was flying over Alabama on his way to New Orleans when he got the major urge to crap. He has the auto-pilot on so he crawls back to the cargo compartment and opens one of the bags full of checks. He paints the bag brown, wipes his arse with some T.P. he had and then ties the top of the bag and throws it out the window from six thousand feet. Can you just imagine driving down the road in a convertible when this $hit bomb hits you!!!

My two worst would be, filling a windex bottle in a c-152 while flight instructing and peeing out the little window in flight of a Baron-58. My only thought was just get it close and the wind will suck it out!

 

[FLpilot]

This entire thread was funny, but that last post had me rolling on the floor. I thought I had a few good stories but they pale in comparison to what's been written here. Any story that combines Japanese tourists, a female tour guide, and a mysterious pile of poo... well what can I say? Good stuff!

 

[DairyAir]

doo doo

Back in the day when I used to ferry airplanes for a living I was crossing the North Atlanic in a Cardinal C-177 solo. When your up there you have no place to go in the event of an emergency. I was generally very careful about what I ate or drank on these flights. Trying to use the restroom (bottle) in a small single engine over the ocean with a Gumby suit on is no easy feat. Anyway I was about 500 miles east on Narssassauq ( can't remember the spelling) on my way to Reykjavic, Iceland when I got the urge. I held on for as long as possible when Wener Von Brauns' qoute from the right stuff flashed in my mind.

" Do it in ze suit "

I just thought to myself after "Bueno, I'm a wetback now"

It is a good thing the suit was a rental!

 

[capnflyright]

Happy Barfsgiving

When I was starting out in my flying career I worked at the local airport during high school. The flight school also had a Part 135 certificate and used a C-206 to transport state prisoners around the state. On the day before Thanksgiving we had to transport 4 prisoners to Blackfoot. The two pilots on the flight boarded the "passengers" and one of the pilots walked inside with me(I was the plebe fuel boy). He was my flight instructor and had told me about his really nice, new leather jacket. Well, he was wearing it that day and off they went. We they returned, two very disgruntled pilots jumped out of the airplane and the leather jacket wasn't very nice anymore. The prisoners had received their Thanksgiving feast the day of the flight. One of them I believe ate an entire turkey himself because when he let loose in the airplane there were pieces big enough to reconstruct that bird(I know, remember I was the plebe at that time and I know how to take C-206 seats and carpet out in order to properly clean all the pieces out of the seat rails). No turkey for me the next day.

 

[avbug]

My first trip in a C-130 was a surprise. I had been turning wrenches in the hangar when I was approached by the owner of the company and the director of maintenance. The owner looked at me and said, "I hear you speak spanish."

"Yes, sir."

"We have an airplane going to Mexico. Get ready."

"How soon are we leaving?"

"Five minutes. Get charts, weather, and meet the airplane; they're spooling up now." I was just getting set to punch out for the day, and things do change, so dutifully I moved out at a run to do as I was told. Sure enough, five minutes later, we were rolling, and six, we were wheels up and headed south.

As we climbed, I was trying to figure out where everything was, and what everything did. I'd been through cockpit familiarization, ground school, and the rest, but no flight training in that airplane, and now I was SIC. I managed to get a clearance just before we went in the clouds. Somewhere near Denver, picking up ice and getting tossed around, the Captain tells me he needs to go aft. Fly the airplane. (Well that's just fine, Captain. No problem. How about you come over here and show me which of these gizmos makes the plane stay rightside up, okay?).

He hinted that the autopilot liked to go TU, and to be ready for it. then he disappeared down ito the cargo bay. In the cargo bay were two large tanks, about seven feet by ten feet, and about six feet high. On top of these tanks were vents, about eight inches in diameter. In order to avail one's self of the inflight facilities (the relief tubes long having been gone from these aircraft), one would kneel on the tank, straddling the vent tube, and apply homage.

He'd been gone about a minute and a half when the trim took off, ran full nose up, disconnected the autopilot, and left me looking at only the sky side of the attitude gyro. There's not a lot of detail on that part of the gyro, and aside from noticing that, I heard the most fearful (yet somehow pitiful) yodeling howl from the cargo bay. Truly disturbing to both man, and beast. Things were moving around, and several mechanics working on an engine at the aft of the bay hit the floor then got floated up onto the cargo ramp, their tools in tight but agressive formation.

Better was the AC/PIC/captain, who had a close encounter with the tank before cutting loose on two other mechanics nearby, as well as a surprisingly large area of the forward cargo bay, himself, the ceiling (which for those who know the C-130 isn't low), and generally demonstrating why astronauts don't drink from open containers. I knew what was going on, and between the rising panic of trying to apply forward pressure and get the nose back down, and figuring out what did what to what, I was fighting a sickening urge to laugh and guffaw uncontrollably.

I recovered control about the time that XXX crawled back into the cockpit. Whatever resistance to laughter, and respect for the human psyche I had remaining, went south when I saw him soaked and disheveled. He wasn't smiling, which only made it worse. I can attest to the sad truth that a captain covered in urine and other sundry material, who has been beaten and banged around by his own aircraft, displays little humor or humanity when faced with the prospect of his new First Officer rolling on the floor of the aircraft laughing at him in a most undignified manner. He got over it. I wish I had.

Truly, however, the most fun one can have in that airplane, with regard to bodily fluids and rampant disgust, is when preparing to throw things and people out. Get a group of jumpers, especially new ones ready to go. Big loud long tube, no windows or references, lots of confusion. Uncertainty awaits. Green light comes on, everyone stands and gets the thousand yard stare. Hooked up and ready, final checks done. Some bright soul is prepared at the front of the line. He hunches, lurches, opens his jacket or jumpsuit and loudly and visibly wretches in a most vivid display of human frailty. He fills an entire bag which he then displays to others with some contemplation.

Upon considering the full bag for a moment, with nowhere to put it, he reaches into the now full airsick bag, takes a big claw of goo, and crams it into his mouth, quickly devouring every bit. Shoves the bag back in his jacket, wipes his hands, gets ready to go. Gauranteed every soul on board will yawn in shades of technicolor.

What no one knows is that it's an act, of course. The bag was filled with chunky soup before the flight, and hidden away. He's eating soup, but the effect works and is time proven...coming soon to a theatre near you.

 

[AWACoff]

I was flying the ORD-SPI turn. I had stopped for a bite to eat at Dead Panda (Panda Express) while we had a sit in ORD. I got it to go and brought it back to the crew room. Everybody has to love beef brocoli and orange chicken...right? Well I plop down at the table and just start going to town on this delicacy. One of the other FOs in the room is sitting on the couch and says "are you EATING that? My god, it smells horrible!". Unfortunately I was a bit congested and didn't notice any foul odor. It just tasted like the crappy beef they always use. A few other people sauntered into the crew room and complained about the stench as well. Pure jealousy on their part of course since they didn't have time to get good food. 5 minutes later we are out at the plane and boarding. We taxi out and takeoff (my leg). Right at rotation this god awful gurgling hits me and my guts are just rolling. I had sweat pouring off me. The captain looks over (I'm sure a was a pale shade of grey) and asks if I'm okay...I couldn't say much at this point. I just continued flying. He suggested I use the lav. I sure as hell wasn't going to drop this bomb in the forward lav on the Brasilia with 30 peeps in back. Of course it was rather turbulent so the FA was seated (all of 2 feet from the lav). We were able to weasel an expedited clearance. Unfortunately the weather decided to come in right as we began our descent and we were vectored east for the ILS. I'm a very proud person so even with the sweating and occasional wet squeaker that slipped out, I continued to fly my leg (albeit with full "Laker" power). I shot the approach and slammed the plane down. The moment the nosewheel touched the captain said "I've got it!" and I readied myself for the hasty departure. We had already coordinated with the FA about letting me off first. For those of you that have flown the Brasilia, you all realize how fast of a taxi we did since the aux gens had come on line. The moment the aircraft stopped (we had already bagged 1), I was unbuckled and opening the cockpit door. The main cabin door was already opened. I got many a curious look in the terminal at SPI as I swaggered towards the john trying not to crap my pants (well, trying not to completely crap them at least...those squeakers weren't completely benign). I'm still not sure if I blew a hole in the porcelain but the guy washing his hands sure thought something had gone horribly wrong in stall number 3. You know you've got problems when you're dry heaving from your own stink. As a new commercial on TV says, I was totally Salsafied.

Lessons learned:
Never eat Dead Panda prior to flight.
Never order the same meal as your captain/FO.
Never be worried about the disgusted looks on 30 pax faces after having a "rapid evacuation" in the forward lav.
Always, always, always...do a courtesy flush.

 

[ExAF]

Growler

While crossing the Atlantic in an F-4 on the way to Germany, my WSO says, "Man I gotta go!" I said, "Get out a piddle pack and let her rip." He says, "No you don't understand...I Gotta GO BIGTIME!... you know...a growler!" He decides to unzip the "poopy suit" (that's really what we called the anti-exposure suit) and go. The only thing he has that will do as a receptacle is his helmet bag. So he empties all of the content out of his helmet bag, manages to get out of his poopy suit, runs his seat full down, and proceeds to squat in his Martin Baker ejection seat and take a growler in his now empty helmet bag! I'm laughing so hard there are tears in my eyes and pretty soon the smell is so bad I have to go on 100% oxygen. To top it off, before he is done, it is our turn to cycle on to the tanker. I delay as long as possible (well, maybe not quite as long as I could have), but have to tank before he is done. The boomer was rolling as we hit the boom and soon I see other faces cycling through the boomer's window looking down at us and cracking up. Eventually he zips up his now full helmet bag and manages to get back into his poopy suit, flight suit and g-suit. By the time we land everyone in the squadron has heard what happened and he earned the new call sign of "Growler."

 

[flint4xx]

In the back of the King Air I used to fly was a pee tube, with the directions written on it, "DEPRESS LEVER WHILE USING"

One pax didn't quite understand and filled the horn first and then pressed the lever. The ensuing urine cloud egulfed the pax and soaked him thoroughly. I laughed for hours.

Another first time user inserted his manhood ALL THE WAY and pressed the lever. The 8.0 psi differential can really do some damage to sensitive organs! Explain those bruises to you wife...

A female pax had to "go" and was given instruction on the tube by another regular pax. Nobody bothered to explain that the tube wasn't designed for females, it was never intended for #2. A big brown wad cloged tube is F@$#ING disgusting. We made her clean it.

 

[Flydaplane]

One morning we left Brownsville, TX for a cross country flight to La Charles LA, had to pee soo bad that I told center we needed to divert to Beaumont Tx. Center said no problem and we got into Beaumont just in the nick of time. I was jumping out of the warrior and could hardly walk, when this Citation pulled up out of the middle of nowhere (didn't hear them at all on the radio) and as I'm running into the FBO this dude jumps out with his badge and gun pulled and yells "US Customs, we need to search your plane."
I look at the badge and gun and say "Do whatever you want to it, I've gotta take a pee." The guy proceeds to follow me into the bathroom to make sure I wasn't dumping something (other than my bodily fluids). He's standing there watching and I'm getting stage fright combined with excessive pee syndrome. After a few painfull seconds it was all over.
The customs guys searched the plane and once they didn't find anything they turned pretty cool. They said they'd been following us since we left S. Texas and had been slow flighting and doing S turns so they wouldn't run us over. When we diverted they thought for sure we were smuggling something.
Its funny this guy could've shot me but I wasn't going to pee in my pants!