We Call It The Shitter Over Here, Thank You
By DizzyTalkin’ ’bout washroom facilities.
I don’t find it acceptable to refer to the toilet as “washroom facilities” in a British newspaper.
wobinidan
My word, no. “Washroom facilities”? In a British newspaper? How dare you bring your crass Americanisms over here to our fair sceptred isle! This green and pleasant land, this land of hope and glory, of the Dunkirk spirit, Drake’s children, lion-hearted paragons of morality and truth, whenceforth did come the spirit – nay, freedom! – of the evacuation of one’s bowels and the damn near perfect British right to refer to the entire bathroom simply by referring to one of the features in said room! The toilet – the place where you go, curiously enough, not only to take a dump, but also the place you’ll go to wash your hands and have a quick Uncle Doug over the good old British page three stunnas in The Fucking Sun, For Fuck’s Sake. And allow any truly British person to be aghast, astounded and indignant should anyone try and not call it the toilet! For the way of the toilet – that is our British way!
I am aghast and astounded and highly indignant! Aghast, astounded, indignant and thoroughly ashamed that I managed to read that entire article and wasn’t nearly enough of an anally retentive, narrow-viewed, pedantically minded, jingoistic prick to notice that someone referred to the toilet as washroom facilities. Or, would you believe, not possessed of a brain so utterly dulled by a diet of Micro Chips, EastEnders and Simon Cowell brand orange pop that I decide to engage in an argument over the proper British terminology. Is is the toilet, or do we call it the lavatory? It’s so confusing! What’s the etiquette?
Clearly, I’m not British enough for our newspapers if I’m going to let such a gross slur on our national identity get by without remonstration, or even allow the remonstration to go without remonstration. As for the remonstration of the remonstration of the remonstration – well, I’m simply not man enough to go for the requisite eight weeks of continuous Typhoo enemas and intravenous Mr Kipling to get to that level of Britishness. And when you can’t imagine taking eight almond slices in the femoral artery, you know it’s time to move somewhere foreign and try to start again there.
There was a law voted in in Italy in 1988 initiated by the Communists guaranteeing free and unrestricted access to all the bogs in bars in Rome.
The result: all the bogs in bars in Rome suddenly had “Out Of Order” notices on them; the keys kept behind the bar for ‘valued customers.’
The moral of this story? Marxism cannot be introduced through social democracy.
( And the Italians are wily sods )
Gordonbnt
No, I think the moral of the story is that no matter how mundane and ordinary the discussion, there’s always going to be some cunt hanging around capable of reducing even the slowest and most banal of conversations to a geological pace with a demonstrative life story that makes all good and decent people want to kill their own children to save them growing up in the same world as that person. And the ancillary moral is that no matter where you go to escape there’ll always be someone ready to tell you why communism failed and why you’re stupid for not thinking of it
If anyone needs me, I’ll be outside standing in the rain, scrubbing myself vigorously with a toilet brush and singing Land of Hope and Glory until my skin bleeds steak and kidney pudding and I end up the right shade of pasty-white bovine spongiform British to actually be able to participate in the discussion. Cheerio.
27 Responses to “We Call It The Shitter Over Here, Thank You”
Ha ha ha! You English and your sense of humour! How lucky you English are to find the toilet so amusing! For us, it is a mundane and functional item… for you, the basis of an entire culture!
Diz-man – even more postings! Are you taking unfeasibly large amounts of amphetamines at the moment? Or did you have them neutrinos for breakfast?
Does anyone else suspect that Gordonbnt is still scarred by his trip to Rome? Not only did his Imperial British colon rebel against the sudden shock of forrin food, but when he tried to find a free khazi by marching in to bars and shouting slowly in English at the wily natives, he was continually turned away until he ended up squirting arse-gravy out in the Trevi fountain. I’m pretty certain that is what happened.
Or that could have been me. I’m called Dirty McSquirty for a reason.
Dress it up in any amount of pompous verbal diarrhoea, and the message is `Squareheads down for the big Boche gang-bang’
Weirdly, the article doesn’t even use the expression “washroom facilities”.
It DOES – contrived splutter – use the expression “restroom” which is even more yankee doodle of course, but even so…
Apart from the title of the article. Fucksticks.
“What’s the etiquette?”
The etiquette is that I (or my authorised agents*) are duly empowered to garotte the stupid fucker who routinely pisses on the toilet seats at work each morning, if I ever find out who it is.
It seems every workplace has at least one of them. It helps explain HYS, and the like, when you contemplate that there exists a proportion of the adult population who are not even toilet trained.
* – That would be any of you who are feeling handy with a cheese-wire.
*diabolical laughter*
To be fair, a lot of Marxist theory is based on the assumption that you can shit in whatever bathroom you fancy.
You’re lucky. The fucker at our place can’t even hit seat, they just piss all over the floor.
The etiquette is that I (or my authorised agents*) are duly empowered to garotte the stupid fucker who routinely pisses on the toilet seats at work each morning, if I ever find out who it is.
It seems every workplace has at least one of them. It helps explain HYS, and the like, when you contemplate that there exists a proportion of the adult population who are not even toilet trained.
Probably someone with a libertarian streak? “SHE GETS PAID TO CLEAN UP MY PISS AND SO SHE SHALL!” and then, as he zips up, he’s satisfied that all is as it should in the world, that the cleaner does her job (apparently it’s “Cleaning piss. EVERYWHERE.”) as nature ordained, and that Ubermenschen with REAL jobs can get on with WHAT REALLY MATTERS. Posting wanky essays on HYS about foreigners and women.
Cunts.
Blockquote fail. I’m a cunt.
On a point of order, we call it the shithouse, not the shitter. Shitter rhymes with Gary Glitter, if you get my meaning.
Wise words. I think they actually did this on Jackass. With balloons.
“You’re lucky. The fucker at our place can’t even hit seat, they just piss all over the floor.”
A floor? Luxury. We ‘ad to make do wiv’ great big ‘oles in the earth. Thirty-two of us wedged under the ledge and when father come ‘ome he’d shit down our crevasse.
What’s the name of that website that looks at stories from the ‘biased bbc’ blog? I’m going crazy
Oh hey, there’s a strike today
More on the strike from the Daily Mail website
Shitlington! First eva blockquote fail.
Must be the strikers fault. Wtecking the country’s infrastructure. Somehow.
<BLOCKQUOTE Hanging Pedant
Apart from the title of the article. Fucksticks.
Well if it wasn’t in the title it would have remained undiscovered since none of these cunts like to actually read anything before forming their opinion. Well they read the large font at the top obviously. They’d need a PhD to read the smaller text. And then a chap would begetting ideas above their station.
I hope I don’t fuck the blockquote up…
Gordon Brown invented celebrity culture and laziness?
That’s a new one. I mean, I know the Scottish officially invented everything but not Gordon Brown specifically. Is Television still attributed to John Logie Baird, or is that now Brown’s invention too?
Anyway, I’ll have you all know I’ve been a lazy fucker since long before Gordon Brown got a sniff of Downing Street.
Simonne must be a troll. Nobody honestly types “elf n safe tea”… do they? Please somebody tell me that cannot be Simonne’s actual, honest to god (or Jeremy Clarkson as I believe he’s known in Simonne’s circles) opinion?!
@hanging pedant – is fucksticks the adult version of AA Milne’s pooh sticks?
This weeks edition of ‘Biggest Twat?’ this week featuring an unfunny joke made by some tiresome old cunt on a tv show for the mentally disabled;
So who’s today’s Biggest Twat?
Is it a) Gedders74 with his glowing admiration for anyone who is a cunt on purpose.
Or is it b) phish, fearless keyboard class warrior?
Everyone got their answers?
Well I’m afraid you’re all wrong. The answer is c) anyone and everyone who actually got up, searched for the number, and complained to the BBC about a shit joke, and indeed anyone and everyone who can watch the One Show without impulsively shouting ‘FUCK OFF!’ every few minutes.
Only Cuger Brant can save us now.
Poplau,
It’s calles Opinionated Beyond My Education
Cheers
I got a 100% mortgage… in 1988. They were everywhere, back then. Save? You mean, like, pay into a pension?