I was out somewhere grotty with work recently – the place I was at having something of a reputation for being a bit of a hole, and from what I’d seen of it on several visits this was a reputation that it had earned entirely on its own merit, through true and unswervingly persistent dedication to the cause – quite how I’ve escaped from this place on several occasions without dying of several aggressive forms of cancer simultaneously while still on-site I will never know – suffice to say, I can only hope this lucky streak of mine persists. Anyway, I digress…

Imagine my surprise when, on summoning up the courtage to visit the toilets in this particular establishment, I found them to be the only impeccably clean area in a place otherwise thoroughly rotten with decay and filth.

My dilemma was brought about by this simple sign:

Time of the signs.

I pondered smearing excrement up the walls and pissing in the towel dispenser but decency won out in the end, sadly.

L

« »