My general existence seems to become more and more bizarre day by day. Take this morning for example. Miss Marple had gone to work, and Ronnie Reggie, and myself had just returned from trudging around in the dark and the mud for an hour.......Joy! There i am standing in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a sweaty t-shirt, and yesterdays boxers. I don't always have breakfast, but felt a little peckish this morning, so decided to treat myself to one of last nights sausages, and a spoonful of beans. So, i am standing bare foot at the kitchen worktop, munching away (Classy!) while at the same time getting irritated with GMTV. Gradually i became aware that my bare feet were starting to become wet. I looked down, and there forming around my feet was a puddle.
I couldn't work out quite what was happening, but it did cross my mind that the unthinkable had finally happened. I had started to wet myself without knowing it! I gingerly patted around the crotch area, but to my great relief, all was dry. So i decided to investigate. If anyone had seen me at that moment, i would surely have been whisked away without any argument what so ever in an unmarked van, never to be seen again. Picture the scene. A 40 something, overweight, balding, bleary eyed man, wearing only a t-shirt, and a pair of "Used" boxers hanging off his arse, on his hands and knees on the kitchen floor, with a fork still in his hand, with half a sausage on the end, dripping baked bean juice, sniffing a puddle on the floor!
I am pretty sure nobody could see me, unless of course my whole life is the subject of a reality tv show, and has been since the day i was born, and everybody in my life are nothing but actors, and the whole of my existence so far has been watched by millions upon millions of voyeurs around the globe, all while i am blissfully unaware. You know, watching 'The Truman show' was one of the worst things i ever did!
Anyway, i still haven't got to the bottom of the mysterious puddle, investigations continue. Moving on, what has been occurring on this rock of ours while i have been sniffing floors? I suppose the "Big" news of last week, was that of John Terry knobbing around. I really fail to see why this is news on two fronts. Firstly, is it a surprise to hear that an overpaid, arrogant, spoilt, uneducated oaf of a footballer has been dipping it where he shouldn't? and secondly, just why the hell is it news anyway? Bloody hell the media couldn't get enough of it could they? It was in danger of reaching the dizzy heights of 'Tiger gate' but seems to have stalled at the last minute.
Do you know, i didn't even know that he was the captain of our national side. Should he have lost that captaincy, for things that occurred in his private life? A very small part of me says no, not really. But the overwhelming part of me can't help but be elated, when any kind of misfortune occurs to any obscenely overpaid, ignorant, arrogant, swaggering, loud mouthed, cock of a footballer! ....... Hurrah!
On a similar vein, was there anybody else on the planet, who couldn't fight off a small but satisfying little grin, when it was revealed that four trillion, or whatever it was, Toyota's have had to be recalled? For one thing, they are probably the most tedious car manufacturer there has ever been. Boring, average, mediocre, tin boxes. Passionless, gutless, and artless on the whole.
Oh how we have all been bored at one time or another, by some smug fucking eco warrior cockhead, rattling on about how he is single handedly saving the planet from all of us planet rapers, because he drives a Prius. Well, my clapped out old Daganum dustbin manages to accelerate and brake when i require it to thanks, so stick that in your herbal tea.
I heard yesterday that Alexander McQueen had died. I had never heard of him. But the usual thing happened. When anyone in the limelight dies, words like "Talented" and "Genius" are banded about willy nilly. I understand he was something big in the fashion world, well can the word genius really be applied to somebody who makes frocks? Now don't get me wrong, there is as much skill involved in tailoring as there is in brick laying and carpentry, but it's just a job really isn't it?
I understand that apart from making clothes that people might actually wear, he also "designed" clothes for cat walk shows. I genuinely fail to see where the talent is, in getting some six stone, Malboro light chain smoking, anorexic model, and making her parade up and down in a pair of hot pants made from tin foil and a string vest, whilst balancing the front offside coil spring from a 1982 Ford Fiesta on her head! BY calling him a genius, they are lumping him in the same club as Einstein, Brunel, and daVinci.......Oh Purleeeeeeeeese!
I have mentioned before about my reluctance to partake in public urination. Well the other is without doubt much much worse. I will go to great lengths to avoid any form of having to defecate anywhere that is not my own toilet! I think it could be said, that i am very wary of any kind of public waste disposal, i even wait till it's dark to put the bins out! Now, by now regular readers must have come to the conclusion that i am not backwards in coming forwards when it comes to discussing anything which may be perceived as being embarrassing subject matters. Sex, urination, masturbation, making an arse of myself in public etc, i have not shy ed away from any of them, but even I feel that a certain amount of decorum is required when discussing back door evacuations, so bearing that in mind, i will honestly try my hardest to avoid being too scatological. Here we go.......
As i have already mentioned, if at all possible, i will avoid using any form of public lavatory to do my number two's. "I'll wait" i think to myself, wait till i get home, but sometimes that just isn't possible is it? I have put it off on occasion, until i have started to experience pain, and broken out into a sweat etc, but there are times when one simply just has to go. One such occurrence happened whilst at work the other day. This is not my usual place of work i hasten to add, this is while i was "Behind enemy lines" so to speak.
The toilet in question has only two cubicles, i did the usual necessary recce before actually committing to the mission. You know what i mean, making various cloak and dagger visits to the toilets to see if the coast is clear, but on several occasions one of the" traps" was occupied, or there would be a bloke standing at the urinal. It must have looked odd, me making several trips to the toilet, only to see me dash out again within seconds. It's even worse when you go to have a look and one bloke is washing his hands, and another is standing at the urinal. The one washing his hands will undoubtedly see you, so you can't make a sharp exit. What are the options? Well, i could go and stand at the urinal and not be able to go because there is a bloke standing next to me, or i could plump for option two. That is to enter the vacant cubicle, and just stand there like a lemon, until the coast is clear! Who would have thought someone could turn defecating into such an absurdly complicated process! Option two it was then!
This fiasco went on for sometime, but eventually i hit the sweet spot, and discovered a completely vacant toilet facility. Eureka i thought. Quite frankly, it was a bloody good job it was vacant, because by now i was dripping with sweat, and i was pretty certain i was "Touching cloth".......Oh bugger, you see, i was trying my hardest, honestly i was, i was doing pretty well, then an "Ugly" popped out.......sorry, lets carry on.
So, I get myself into position, so to speak, and proceed with the mission. Then it happened. Foot steps, and the creaking of a door, some bastard had entered the toilets, oh no, where was he going to go, urinal, or trap two, footsteps, oh Christ it's trap two, all of my nightmares had come to life. It was no good, i was committed, there was no abandoning the mission now, i didn't have the comfort of a "Mission controller" saying "abort abort abort" in my special forces earpiece, i was here, and i was in for the long haul.
I will never cease to be amazed at how brazen some men can be, when it comes to their back door business. I go to extreme lengths to avoid any form of embarrassment, this could involve laying a protective layer of toilet paper in the bowl to avoid anyone hear me "Land!" and generally trying to remain as quiet and dignified as possible. Well the bloke next to me had obviously not been to the same finishing school as me. Christ, grunting, sighing, moaning, various unspeakable noises, what the hell was he doing in there? He even answered his bloody phone at one stage! I had to sit there and endure him having a conversation with his wife or whoever about shopping!
Why can't we have a bit of privacy when in a public toilet? why can't they make toilets with proper floor to ceiling walls, sound proofed etc, no, we have to sit there with just a bit of MDF between us. Or alternatively, why can't the scientific community come up with some kind of muffling device, to combat unwanted bottom sounds. Sort of like a silencer on a gun. Think i might have a go myself, perhaps even take it on 'Dragon's den'. Anyway, loads of blokes started entering and exiting the toilets, and in all the commotion and noise, i lost track of who was in and who was not, including matey boy next door. I hadn't heard the toilet flush, but some disgusting blokes don't.
There was definitely nobody at the urinals, or washing their hands, but what about next door. I listened intently for any sign that might give away the enemies position, nothing. But i couldn't be sure, there was nothing else for it, i was going to have to try and surreptitiously take a sneaky peek under the MDF. Sometimes you will be lucky, and get one of those guys that likes the "wide stance" so it's easy to ascertain the occupancy of the cubicle next door, but this guy was either not there at all, or he was a fan of the narrower feet position. I was going to have to lean further forward. No still nothing, bit more, bit more, starting to black out now, bit more. Now, i normally without fail, keep all of my loose change in my trouser pockets, but i had just been to the shop, and i had dumped it in my top pocket. You are ahead of me aren't you?.......Like a cascading silver and bronze waterfall, out it poured all over the floor, chink chink, tinkle tinkle, a cacophony of sound, and on top of that, i nearly headbutted the floor, due to almost blacking out from my now near totally upended position.
I hurriedly finished up the best i could, and exited the cubicle. Needless to say next door was vacant, and probably had been for some time. No doubt all of my efforts to check the occupancy of next door had been sadly pointless. Think i must just invest in some nappies and be bloody done with it.
Oh well, best be off.......
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