What's the etiquette here??

Had prawn vindaloo Friday Night, Saturday night, Sunday morning (leftovers) and then on Sunday night too. Angus ring feels like it has chemical burns and retracts with fright on contact with toilet paper.

Drank a rake of stout on the Friday night and then on the Saturday morning I released a long slow stream of black molten lava with no form or substance to it, just absolute slobber with the odd blob of something or other. Looking back into the toilet all you see is thick black blubber broken by the odd bit of froth, kind of like a pool of tadpoles.

Although the whole thing is ‘freeform’ (no actual turds) it took three flushes to remove the nebulous dark matter. Awful smell that reminded me of one time when I was in the North of England and some farmer had left a few dozen dead moles rotting on a barbwire fence.

Arrived in the office early today, frappachino in one hand, linen jacket folded over the opposite arm, head towards my favourite bathroom (100% isolation, hermetically sealed, three levels of flush) when I see this pint-sized buggy-eyed older fellah in a white shirt scurrying out the door in a nervous panic.

Actually I know this guy to see from the payments counter, he handles cash all day, usually very reserved, but boy was he was caught in a fever this morning, soaked in a cold sweat with a mad look in his eyes like a lamb that’d escaped a slaughterhouse.

Naturally I figured he’d dropped a time bomb and was leaving the scene of the crime, so I thought I’d take a gawk myself and assess the damage.

First thing I notice on entering the bathroom is the smell of raw sewage. Literally. You know that smell you occasionally get when those big trucks are pulled up on the street doing whatever they do with open sewers, a mix of pigchite, carbon monoxide, and bad breath. Extremely potent, and I was tempted to leave on the spot, but I just knew I had to see whatever goodies had been deposited. Especially when you recognise a fellah you’ll have that extra bit of curiosity to see his produce I feel.

So on inspection I find the toilet bowl absolutely doused in specks of chite right up to just below seat level, and from the smearing you can tell that this poor little fecker has flushed and flushed and flushed his pint-sized heart out but whatever he released might as well have come from a hot glue gun because it is stuck to the porcelain and you’d need a steel brush to remove it.

There is no toilet brush in the compartment, and I’ve noticed a granular quality to the flecks so I’m thinking this lil goblin has been eating Alpen directly from the bag with no milk this morning.

But the worst are the few drops of ‘brown water’ he’s left on the toilet seat. I mean whatever about the hot glue, surely this sneaky pocket-sized lil cherubum could have wiped down the toilet seat? Absolutely stomach-churning. The smell I mean, like the smell of a pheasant cooking in an oven with a few parcels of chite thrown in for good measure, that’s t0 say the smell had a kind of gamey, vaguely food-like quality to it.

So I step backwards, touch nothing, and call in the chopper for extraction, but I’ve taken note of this little devil and will be looking out for him in future.

Actually I worked for Airbnb for a few years. The things I saw. Oh lord. Even the worst stories in here pale in comparison.

JohnnyFlash wrote: »

Italian shîtters always have the shelf. Bizarre and frankly disturbing design. The Armitage Shanks design should be made a European wide standard. Teresa should include it in Brexit negotiations.

If you had to theorize, what do you think the purpose of the shelf is?

Have any of ye ever used a bidet?