Peeing on Three Continents.

Peeing on Three Continents.

OCTOBER 1ST
I peed on three continents today.* It all started with a bleary-eyed piss in the disabled toilet of the Galway Coach station. I like the toilets there – they are relatively clean and, presumably correlated, accessible only through a 40cent turnstile, keeping out the proletariat. The regular coin-accessible toilets were closed for cleaning, however, meaning I had bought a bottle of Sprite for change and for naught.

Upon exiting the bathroom, I stumbled onto a bus and ended up in Dublin Airport. They had a toilet there too, so I peed in it. It was an underwhelming experience. That isn’t even my poop smeared on the bottom of the toilet bowl. The first soap dispenser, tap, and hand-drier all failed to work, but not in any spectacularly dramatic or entertaining fashion.
Inspired by a tweet** from the wonderful Hannah Fry, I did download the BBC Four Pandemic app, which sought to study how quickly a virulent disease might spread. To do my part, I promptly boarded a flight to Peru, via Canada.

I refrained from using the facilities on board either plane, because I was trying to remain hydrated. I do not know if that is how hydration works. I wish I had studied a more practical science than maths. Some of these equations would be significantly more useful if you knew what values the variables represented.
The first public bathroom in Toronto I tried to use seemed to adhere to America’s policy that cubicles in public bathrooms need to be very public indeed – a regulated minimum of a two-inch gap between the door and its frame, so that you can see if the person using the toilet before you is circumsized, and walls that begin at the knee, so you can show off your new shoes to the entire row of cubicles.
The second bathroom was better – note the proper wall, and the rail for parkour.

Eventually, my father, my brother and I made it to our lovely Airbnb in Lima. Here is one of the three bathrooms:

It was a little small, and lacked a sink, but it was the one beside my bedroom. Sadly, after over a day’s travelling, it was unable to meet my demands, and so, very sleep-deprived, I found myself faced with an issue even Your Man on the Can’s How to Unblock a Toilet‘s recommended first course of action was unable to rectify. In the end, I added some warm water*** to soften the stool overnight. In such instances, a little dish-washing liquid can sometimes help to lubricate the sides of the bowl, but in the event that a caretaker or plumber had needed to called, I didn’t want to risk having to explain, without any Spanish, why the blocked toilet was full of suds.
In the morning, it still would not flush, so I found something long and disposable (an empty kitchen roll holder) and broke up the blockage therewith. That did the trick, and the toilet flushed without further ado.

When my father noticed what I was doing, he advised that, in future, using some of those antibacterial baby wipes, as opposed to normal toilet tissue, would reduce the quantity of paper needed, and thus reduce the likelihood of blockage. Of course, I already knew this, and it had not been the paper causing the blockage, but it was good to hear that the apple had not fallen so very far from the tree.

Somewhat related – if any of you have somehow not yet come across the fantastic Bristol Stool Scale story, I highly recommend, without even a hint of reservation:
A Daily Mail article.

 

Love,

Your Man on the Can

Addendum:
The Pandemic app’s “survey” was uninspiring, though I am curious to see what results are yielded. Most disappointing of all, perhaps, was that the “Distance travelled” options only ranged up as far as “100+ km”. What a waste of an almost 12000 kilometre trip! 😦

 

*I am relieved that I had no cause to use an incontinence pun there.
**A message posted to all of one’s followers on the social media site “Twitter” – a bizarre platform which somehow managed to survive and maintain popularity from 2006 to 2019, despite its sole “advantage” being an imposed 140-character text limit, which the majority of its users circumvented by posting multiple messages at once, or half an unhelpful sentence followed by a hyperlink. It served as a useful source of anti-epigrams and a soapbox for infinitely-recycled opinion on the one topical news item du jour.
***Closer to boiling than is recommended, in fact, but I added it very slowly and carefully so as not to risk cracking the ceramic.

 

 

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How To Unblock A Toilet

How To Unblock A Toilet

Editors’ Note: In this article, for the first time ever, Knight’s Atari have taken heed of our readers’ repeated complaints about our “f*cking asterisks”, and provided convenient links between the text and footnotes. Your feedback matters to us.
  

As the honeymoon period of living with new housemates gradually wears off, many of you will start to find that the blocked toilet becomes harder and harder to ignore. Since all the cool social justice warriors are poorly driving the feminism bandwagon these days, I’ll start this article with a nod to gender equality*, and even a footnote for the gays, before subtly segueing into some permutation of whatever other doubtlessly salient points I have to make on the subject of unblocking a toilet.

76% of blocked toilets on campus are caused by males. Males are bigger, therefore they eat more and make bigger poops. On top of that, literally, they add more toilet paper because they invariably have more hirsute arses which are more difficult to wipe clean and deshitnuggetify.** I’m sorry, gender quota advocates, but that’s just the way it is. 83% of people of who poo on the bathroom floor instead of in the toilet are female or Asian, if that helps. Another oft unaddressed issue is that a man’s eye can distinguish between fewer colours than a woman’s can, especially in dimly lit public bathrooms, so while a woman in her cubicle, squinting at the toilet paper, can see as the afterwipe colour changes through Intense Chestnut, Hazelnut Truffle,  Leather Satchel, Muted Mocha, Perfectly Taupe, Gentle Fawn, Elderflower Tea, and white,*** a man must (obviously) err on the side of caution as he sees brown, brown, light brown, orange, yellow, yellow, looks white, looks white, probably is white, is almost definitely white but best give another wipe just to be sure… resulting in squandered toilet paper. I was amazed at how much toilet paper I saved when I would have my girlfriend or mother assess the colour of my pieces of toilet paper post-wipe, and probably used an average of six sheets of paper less than I otherwise would have.

Furthermore, we all know girls only defecate fairies and rainbows, which, given their ethereal nature, are not likely to cause obstruction. Instead, females’ toilet blockages are caused by flushed tampons, dead cats, pubic hair, and the swaddlings of toilet paper she buries her suffocated fairies and shame in.

Regardless of whatever form your genitalia may take, sometimes you just come home to find a bison**** has made use of your facilities, as captured in this sketch by Dr. Kevin.
bison

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