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Okay, this needs to be said. I really cannot comprehend what was going through an architects mind when, for what ever building you care to visit, they designed the public toilet cubicles in said building. Let’s look at them as we are likely to encounter them though life. My descriptions are of the male versions, no doubt the female versions are the veritable palaces TV leads us to believe are laid on for the fairer sex..
The School Toilet.
Seriously, has anyone actually made a trip to the poo chute in their school/college with the intention of using them for their designed purpose? I would have rather died of a nasty bowel infection than use one of these. The chance of being, quite literally ‘caught with you trousers down’ was far too much of a risk in the high pressure social environment that is the learning establishment. Such a misdemeanour could haunt an individual for the rest of their school days, perhaps even further. I’m sure I don’t even have to mention the so called toilet paper, it’s legend is there for all to recall.
People go into school toilet cubicles for two reasons; to write on the wall or to get beaten up. Any other explanation is completely ludicrous. Why even build them? Educational facilities are always whinging about a lack of funds, the answer is there for all to see.
The Shopping Centre Toilet.
This is inhabited by Dad’s and their young children, who have had to be rushed in for an emergency removal of the sweets and drinks they have been fed to shut them up whilst roaming Lakeside in search of matching dimmer switches and rawlplugs.
Once inside the trap you are treated with a running commentary of exactly what is going on pasted the engaged thingy, gee thanks for that; I shall remember your name and hunt you down in fifteen years time and remind you of this moment, preferably when you are about to score with that girl you fancied for ages but have only just plucked up the courage to speak to her.
Not only that, but more often than not there’s a small room for an employee to sit in, yes you to can have a strange old man listen to you while your body violently rejects the McDonalds you ate two hours earlier.
The Pub Toilet.
The pub cubicle, for those of you that have yet to savour this, is the most horrific place on the face of the world. It is in fact a misplaced vomitairum with swimming pool included. To consider using the bowl for anything other than throwing cigarettes into is madness personified. This is why really drunk people pass out and soil themselves, because even when wasted they would rather be publicly humiliated than use an insect graveyard to answer natures call.
The Workplace toilet.
When compared to other toilets these are generally of a higher standard as some cubicles may be completely separated with walls, rather than some ply-board hastily thrown around the porcelain pot in a vain attempt at retaining your dignity. Most fall into this category however, and this is the nightmare that arises:
You enter the brickhouse moments after somebody very senior has gone in, you see them disappearing into one of the partitioned potty rooms before you ‘pull up a chair’, so to speak. While attending to the deed, sounds begin to emanate from the direction of your boss. Perhaps he is very important, the CEO for example. You may even hear them mutter ‘Better out than in’, a call that is more often heard in the vicinity of the pub toilet by a man at least 15 times your weight. In this case though, it will make you laugh. As the snicker resonates around the loo you realise that he must of heard, he will be embarrassed, angry at you lack of composure. Jobs are thin on the ground these days and you’re sure he muttered something about downsizing earlier on in the week.
If you rush and leave now he will quickly follow, thus catching you buy the hand drier for the knowing look of ‘you’re out on your ear son’. If you stay until after he leaves you might be saved, but the more vindictive manager will make sure to loiter around by the notice board just down the hall to check the culprit as he leaves the scene of the crime.
In conclusion then, I must stress that it is vital for your success in modern life that you do not use the public toilet, few have done so and survived it’s wrath.
PS. I have not mentioned the park toilet or the port-a-loo, as anyone who uses one of these is beyond salvation.
The School Toilet.
Seriously, has anyone actually made a trip to the poo chute in their school/college with the intention of using them for their designed purpose? I would have rather died of a nasty bowel infection than use one of these. The chance of being, quite literally ‘caught with you trousers down’ was far too much of a risk in the high pressure social environment that is the learning establishment. Such a misdemeanour could haunt an individual for the rest of their school days, perhaps even further. I’m sure I don’t even have to mention the so called toilet paper, it’s legend is there for all to recall.
People go into school toilet cubicles for two reasons; to write on the wall or to get beaten up. Any other explanation is completely ludicrous. Why even build them? Educational facilities are always whinging about a lack of funds, the answer is there for all to see.
The Shopping Centre Toilet.
This is inhabited by Dad’s and their young children, who have had to be rushed in for an emergency removal of the sweets and drinks they have been fed to shut them up whilst roaming Lakeside in search of matching dimmer switches and rawlplugs.
Once inside the trap you are treated with a running commentary of exactly what is going on pasted the engaged thingy, gee thanks for that; I shall remember your name and hunt you down in fifteen years time and remind you of this moment, preferably when you are about to score with that girl you fancied for ages but have only just plucked up the courage to speak to her.
Not only that, but more often than not there’s a small room for an employee to sit in, yes you to can have a strange old man listen to you while your body violently rejects the McDonalds you ate two hours earlier.
The Pub Toilet.
The pub cubicle, for those of you that have yet to savour this, is the most horrific place on the face of the world. It is in fact a misplaced vomitairum with swimming pool included. To consider using the bowl for anything other than throwing cigarettes into is madness personified. This is why really drunk people pass out and soil themselves, because even when wasted they would rather be publicly humiliated than use an insect graveyard to answer natures call.
The Workplace toilet.
When compared to other toilets these are generally of a higher standard as some cubicles may be completely separated with walls, rather than some ply-board hastily thrown around the porcelain pot in a vain attempt at retaining your dignity. Most fall into this category however, and this is the nightmare that arises:
You enter the brickhouse moments after somebody very senior has gone in, you see them disappearing into one of the partitioned potty rooms before you ‘pull up a chair’, so to speak. While attending to the deed, sounds begin to emanate from the direction of your boss. Perhaps he is very important, the CEO for example. You may even hear them mutter ‘Better out than in’, a call that is more often heard in the vicinity of the pub toilet by a man at least 15 times your weight. In this case though, it will make you laugh. As the snicker resonates around the loo you realise that he must of heard, he will be embarrassed, angry at you lack of composure. Jobs are thin on the ground these days and you’re sure he muttered something about downsizing earlier on in the week.
If you rush and leave now he will quickly follow, thus catching you buy the hand drier for the knowing look of ‘you’re out on your ear son’. If you stay until after he leaves you might be saved, but the more vindictive manager will make sure to loiter around by the notice board just down the hall to check the culprit as he leaves the scene of the crime.
In conclusion then, I must stress that it is vital for your success in modern life that you do not use the public toilet, few have done so and survived it’s wrath.
PS. I have not mentioned the park toilet or the port-a-loo, as anyone who uses one of these is beyond salvation.
Okay, this needs to be said. I really cannot comprehend what was going through an architects mind when, for what ever building you care to visit, they designed the public toilet cubicles in said building. Let’s look at them as we are likely to encounter them though life. My descriptions are of the male versions, no doubt the female versions are the veritable palaces TV leads us to believe are laid on for the fairer sex..
The School Toilet.
Seriously, has anyone actually made a trip to the poo chute in their school/college with the intention of using them for their designed purpose? I would have rather died of a nasty bowel infection than use one of these. The chance of being, quite literally ‘caught with you trousers down’ was far too much of a risk in the high pressure social environment that is the learning establishment. Such a misdemeanour could haunt an individual for the rest of their school days, perhaps even further. I’m sure I don’t even have to mention the so called toilet paper, it’s legend is there for all to recall.
People go into school toilet cubicles for two reasons; to write on the wall or to get beaten up. Any other explanation is completely ludicrous. Why even build them? Educational facilities are always whinging about a lack of funds, the answer is there for all to see.
The Shopping Centre Toilet.
This is inhabited by Dad’s and their young children, who have had to be rushed in for an emergency removal of the sweets and drinks they have been fed to shut them up whilst roaming Lakeside in search of matching dimmer switches and rawlplugs.
Once inside the trap you are treated with a running commentary of exactly what is going on pasted the engaged thingy, gee thanks for that; I shall remember your name and hunt you down in fifteen years time and remind you of this moment, preferably when you are about to score with that girl you fancied for ages but have only just plucked up the courage to speak to her.
Not only that, but more often than not there’s a small room for an employee to sit in, yes you to can have a strange old man listen to you while your body violently rejects the McDonalds you ate two hours earlier.
The Pub Toilet.
The pub cubicle, for those of you that have yet to savour this, is the most horrific place on the face of the world. It is in fact a misplaced vomitairum with swimming pool included. To consider using the bowl for anything other than throwing cigarettes into is madness personified. This is why really drunk people pass out and soil themselves, because even when wasted they would rather be publicly humiliated than use an insect graveyard to answer natures call.
The Workplace toilet.
When compared to other toilets these are generally of a higher standard as some cubicles may be completely separated with walls, rather than some ply-board hastily thrown around the porcelain pot in a vain attempt at retaining your dignity. Most fall into this category however, and this is the nightmare that arises:
You enter the brickhouse moments after somebody very senior has gone in, you see them disappearing into one of the partitioned potty rooms before you ‘pull up a chair’, so to speak. While attending to the deed, sounds begin to emanate from the direction of your boss. Perhaps he is very important, the CEO for example. You may even hear them mutter ‘Better out than in’, a call that is more often heard in the vicinity of the pub toilet by a man at least 15 times your weight. In this case though, it will make you laugh. As the snicker resonates around the loo you realise that he must of heard, he will be embarrassed, angry at you lack of composure. Jobs are thin on the ground these days and you’re sure he muttered something about downsizing earlier on in the week.
If you rush and leave now he will quickly follow, thus catching you buy the hand drier for the knowing look of ‘you’re out on your ear son’. If you stay until after he leaves you might be saved, but the more vindictive manager will make sure to loiter around by the notice board just down the hall to check the culprit as he leaves the scene of the crime.
In conclusion then, I must stress that it is vital for your success in modern life that you do not use the public toilet, few have done so and survived it’s wrath.
PS. I have not mentioned the park toilet or the port-a-loo, as anyone who uses one of these is beyond salvation.
The School Toilet.
Seriously, has anyone actually made a trip to the poo chute in their school/college with the intention of using them for their designed purpose? I would have rather died of a nasty bowel infection than use one of these. The chance of being, quite literally ‘caught with you trousers down’ was far too much of a risk in the high pressure social environment that is the learning establishment. Such a misdemeanour could haunt an individual for the rest of their school days, perhaps even further. I’m sure I don’t even have to mention the so called toilet paper, it’s legend is there for all to recall.
People go into school toilet cubicles for two reasons; to write on the wall or to get beaten up. Any other explanation is completely ludicrous. Why even build them? Educational facilities are always whinging about a lack of funds, the answer is there for all to see.
The Shopping Centre Toilet.
This is inhabited by Dad’s and their young children, who have had to be rushed in for an emergency removal of the sweets and drinks they have been fed to shut them up whilst roaming Lakeside in search of matching dimmer switches and rawlplugs.
Once inside the trap you are treated with a running commentary of exactly what is going on pasted the engaged thingy, gee thanks for that; I shall remember your name and hunt you down in fifteen years time and remind you of this moment, preferably when you are about to score with that girl you fancied for ages but have only just plucked up the courage to speak to her.
Not only that, but more often than not there’s a small room for an employee to sit in, yes you to can have a strange old man listen to you while your body violently rejects the McDonalds you ate two hours earlier.
The Pub Toilet.
The pub cubicle, for those of you that have yet to savour this, is the most horrific place on the face of the world. It is in fact a misplaced vomitairum with swimming pool included. To consider using the bowl for anything other than throwing cigarettes into is madness personified. This is why really drunk people pass out and soil themselves, because even when wasted they would rather be publicly humiliated than use an insect graveyard to answer natures call.
The Workplace toilet.
When compared to other toilets these are generally of a higher standard as some cubicles may be completely separated with walls, rather than some ply-board hastily thrown around the porcelain pot in a vain attempt at retaining your dignity. Most fall into this category however, and this is the nightmare that arises:
You enter the brickhouse moments after somebody very senior has gone in, you see them disappearing into one of the partitioned potty rooms before you ‘pull up a chair’, so to speak. While attending to the deed, sounds begin to emanate from the direction of your boss. Perhaps he is very important, the CEO for example. You may even hear them mutter ‘Better out than in’, a call that is more often heard in the vicinity of the pub toilet by a man at least 15 times your weight. In this case though, it will make you laugh. As the snicker resonates around the loo you realise that he must of heard, he will be embarrassed, angry at you lack of composure. Jobs are thin on the ground these days and you’re sure he muttered something about downsizing earlier on in the week.
If you rush and leave now he will quickly follow, thus catching you buy the hand drier for the knowing look of ‘you’re out on your ear son’. If you stay until after he leaves you might be saved, but the more vindictive manager will make sure to loiter around by the notice board just down the hall to check the culprit as he leaves the scene of the crime.
In conclusion then, I must stress that it is vital for your success in modern life that you do not use the public toilet, few have done so and survived it’s wrath.
PS. I have not mentioned the park toilet or the port-a-loo, as anyone who uses one of these is beyond salvation.
You have forgotten the fowlest of the Species
Train Station Toilets-
These have to be the most pointless, biologically hazardous, stinkingly evil places ever to have been constructed. The floor is always ankle deep in something that looks like water but smells like a dead Llama. The white of the porcelain is only visible at the four little round patches where the seat touches the bowl. There is a collection of Phone numbers to rival the yellow pages, usually appended with claims of Sexual/Homosexual prowess scribbled on or carved into the walls. And to cap it all off the only time you feel brave enough to enter this gateway to the bowels of hell it's locked. Why build something that is only open from 3.00 - 3.15 on alternate thursdays. To be honest you are best walking to the end of the platform, unzipping and drainingyour little man in the direction of the oncoming Commuters.
Train Station Toilets-
These have to be the most pointless, biologically hazardous, stinkingly evil places ever to have been constructed. The floor is always ankle deep in something that looks like water but smells like a dead Llama. The white of the porcelain is only visible at the four little round patches where the seat touches the bowl. There is a collection of Phone numbers to rival the yellow pages, usually appended with claims of Sexual/Homosexual prowess scribbled on or carved into the walls. And to cap it all off the only time you feel brave enough to enter this gateway to the bowels of hell it's locked. Why build something that is only open from 3.00 - 3.15 on alternate thursdays. To be honest you are best walking to the end of the platform, unzipping and drainingyour little man in the direction of the oncoming Commuters.
Yes it's true, I did mis the train station toilet. What's worse is the fact that you have to PAY for the unholy right to use these 'facilities'. What's up with that??
Ah..bogs.
I think the ones that I can't understand are those ones in the high street you pay for, with those rubbish sliding doors. A t**d tardis is the best description.
Nasty, nasty things and totally non-soundproof.
So, you can stand outside and hear what very well appears to be someone wrestling with a particularly large demon, complete with splashing, only to see a tiny old lady come out.
As for work loos, you go in, someone has already been in and dropped a squat loaf, you hold your breath and leave only to see someone you know going in.
Now you have the "Christ, I hope they dont think that was me" panic.
Plane toilets.
Tiny, cramped spaces. I have no idea how people manage to join the mile-high club in there, as it's bad enough trying to use it for the right reason.
And again, god forbid you need to drop the kids off at the pool because someone will come in straight after you, and you know they'll go back and nudge their mate with their elbow and point at you laughing.
As said in the original post, just do not use any other loos except for your own.
And, do NOT use your girlfriends loo at her place, because you will unload the mother of all logs, it will stink the place out, refuse to flush and you will get none that night.
I think the ones that I can't understand are those ones in the high street you pay for, with those rubbish sliding doors. A t**d tardis is the best description.
Nasty, nasty things and totally non-soundproof.
So, you can stand outside and hear what very well appears to be someone wrestling with a particularly large demon, complete with splashing, only to see a tiny old lady come out.
As for work loos, you go in, someone has already been in and dropped a squat loaf, you hold your breath and leave only to see someone you know going in.
Now you have the "Christ, I hope they dont think that was me" panic.
Plane toilets.
Tiny, cramped spaces. I have no idea how people manage to join the mile-high club in there, as it's bad enough trying to use it for the right reason.
And again, god forbid you need to drop the kids off at the pool because someone will come in straight after you, and you know they'll go back and nudge their mate with their elbow and point at you laughing.
As said in the original post, just do not use any other loos except for your own.
And, do NOT use your girlfriends loo at her place, because you will unload the mother of all logs, it will stink the place out, refuse to flush and you will get none that night.
Technically, if you can't wait, a field or a tree could be classed as a toilet.
On a slightly different note a survey was conducted recently in which one out of 6 men would reach in to a public toilet to get a five pound note. I think that the number must be higher than this. So would you reach into a public toilet to retrieve a £5 note?
Be honest.
Be honest.
It depends on whether it had been flushed recently.
jd99 wrote:
> On a slightly different note a survey was conducted recently in which one out of 6 men would reach in to a public toilet to get a five pound note. I think that the number must be higher than this. So would you reach into a public toilet to retrieve a £5 note?
Be honest.
NO WAY.
> On a slightly different note a survey was conducted recently in which one out of 6 men would reach in to a public toilet to get a five pound note. I think that the number must be higher than this. So would you reach into a public toilet to retrieve a £5 note?
Be honest.
NO WAY.