Minimumload
In honour of Max's comment, here's a little more toilet humour - which only seems to be funny because its authors were so deadly serious.
The picture was recently taken by the lovely Tess, and depicts the door of a toilet on a train (I shit you not) we took to Galway.
Who on earth (or trains) calls them 'solids' by the way?
4 Comments:
Yum indeed Sass. Yum indeed. What I like about the (clearly unnecessary) picture is that it is not the shape of a poo that lands in water (usually sausage shaped) but is the shape of a poo that lands directly on the ground and forms what I believe on your authority is known as a 'Hershey Kiss' shape which is thankfully a delicacy i have never tried (and now never will).
There was another comment left today on the post which was so funny it made me laugh out loud twice (and once more in a muffled way) but which did not appear on the site for technical reasons (and its author was not arsed to rewrite it). This may have lead anon to think that God saved them from the story being told but I'm happy to report that he/she/it only did so temporarily. The person who made it did not make any reference to their identity and i really wish they had because this story is absolutely priceless.
I'll share it with you now. Thank you anonymous blogger.
This. Is. Gold:
Em, not really sure I should be telling this story but hey... painfully embarassing stories are meant to be shared... it's the only way to make yourself feel any better.
In Venice, I discovered that the large majority of public toilets are not made for the maximum load and while there's an absence of warnings such as that on the train toilet door, "solids" are no more welcome in Venice than on trains to Galway. Anyway, I was in Venice a few years ago, at a restaurant with friends. I joined a very long queue to use the toilet, the one and only toilet for the very large restaurant - Italian public toilets are few, far between, and usually very dirty, and if they can manage to avoid actually equipping them with a toilet bowl they will. Anyway, after waiting a good 15 minutes and waiting for a mother and daughter who'd insisted on using the toilet together to stop giggling and shouting in some other foreign language inside the cubicle I finally got my turn. I went in, took a piss and flushed the toilet. That's where things went oh so very very wrong. I found myself ankle deep in overflowing toilet water, toilet paper and other people's turds. There was a queue of impatient people waiting outside the door and I'm inside having a panic attack and fighting back waves of nausea trying to figure out a way to escape without having to confront the hoards of people outside. In the end, I came out, closing the door behind me and (not knowing a word of Italian, or in any case not the word for broken) said "It's broken, ist kaput!" and legged it as fast as I could past all the other customers back to my table where I announced in a fit of hysteria "I broke the toilet, we're leaving right now!!!" to the immense amusement of everyone there. They refused to leave and I had to sit there and watch as word spread around the restaurant and waiters across the room began pointing and laughing at me. I want to strangle that feckin mother and daughter shitting tag team, that's assuming the shite belonged to them. Who knows.
For the non-Irish among you, 'leithras' is Gaelic for 'shitter' by the way.
I can't believe I'm reading this, not because of any gross-out toilet humor factor, but rather because something quite similar happened to me about two hours ago. For real.
I'm at work, and post-morning-tea I found myself with the pressing need to get rid of my morning tea. I went to the bathroom, went to the bathroom (no 'solids' involved) and, upon flushing, the toilet completely overflowed because of some previous solid-leaver's nefarious deeds.
There is no more helpless feeling in this modern life than standing in a bathroom watching a toilet's water rise to the rim and not having a damn thing to do to fix the situation.
So, what did I do? I left the bathroom as soon as possible, made a decoy cup of tea -- in case anyone suspected me of clogging the toilet I could cite my tea as the reason I was away from my desk -- and ran back to work with a fervor unlike any I have ever experienced upon walking TOWARDS my desk.
Hey James, okay, okay, I'll admit it, it was me in Venice... I went to visit Meri a few years ago with Ger. It was Carnevale and we decided to go to Venice for the day. I'm glad you liked the story, I did actually make my exit after a short while when the sniggers got too much for me. Lu xxx
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