Thunder Bolt
Silly old bat
I have a little bottle of hand gel for just such a purpose.
Aren't ALL men animals (and all women, for that matter)?
You're going to some lengths to avoid all this shit. So after rushing out on the heels of another patron or wearing johnnies on your fingers to avoid faecalis I imagine you sit down on your shit stained barstool, take a swig from your pint glass which is covered in the barmans shitty fingerprints and leaf through the pubs shitty copy of the Sun? Dear god man...get a grip.
You're going to some lengths to avoid all this shit. So after rushing out on the heels of another patron or wearing johnnies on your fingers to avoid faecalis I imagine you sit down on your shit stained barstool, take a swig from your pint glass which is covered in the barmans shitty fingerprints and leaf through the pubs shitty copy of the Sun? Dear god man...get a grip.
No you are not alone. I also refuse to sit on a toilet seat. Lots of public places i feel the same about.
If that makes me stupid then i'm perfectly happy with that,
I must admit, one of the side benefits of a visit to the Amex gents - amongst the many - is the spectacle of the QUEUE or PARADE OF SHAME.
You walk into the gents at HT for a quick slash, then notice a smaller group of blokes standing to one side, with a certain look etched upon their faces - a look you will see nowhere else. A mixture of slight FEAR - in case the turtle's head suddenly gathers momentum, presumably - as well as slightly sweaty embarrassment. "What are they doing, why are those people standing there?" you ask yourself.
Then it dawns.
Those facial/fecal expressions are saying "Yeah I do need a sh1t in a very inconvenient place. It's very crowded in here. I should definitely have had one before I left home or even the pub. What horrors am I going to find in that cubicle. My arse may itch or even smell noticeably afterwards if there's no paper left."
"Shit stained bar stool" ? Surely that would only be a hazard in a naturist resort.
I must admit, one of the side benefits of a visit to the Amex gents - amongst the many - is the spectacle of the QUEUE or PARADE OF SHAME.
You walk into the gents at HT for a quick slash, then notice a smaller group of blokes standing to one side, with a certain look etched upon their faces - a look you will see nowhere else. A mixture of slight FEAR - in case the turtle's head suddenly gathers momentum, presumably - as well as slightly sweaty embarrassment. "What are they doing, why are those people standing there?" you ask yourself.
Then it dawns.
Those facial/fecal expressions are saying "Yeah I do need a sh1t in a very inconvenient place. It's very crowded in here. I should definitely have had one before I left home or even the pub. What horrors am I going to find in that cubicle. My arse may itch or even smell noticeably afterwards if there's no paper left."