Fair play to those Belgians
March 22, 2009
Nice work lads, I hope none of you had had a liquid lunch that day…
http://uk.news.yahoo.com/22/20090322/thl-oukoe-uk-belgium-toilet-b2e59e8.html
The River Thames, London, England
November 20, 2008
No I didn’t pee in the Thames… although that might make a good blog. Hmmm…
A very strange thing happened to me in London recently. I happened to glance into the Thames as I was crossing it on a bridge, can’t remember which bridge, and there, a detached loo seat floated right underneath me!

aaaaand a close up:
is this a sign from god?
where did it come from?
what does it mean?
I visited the London Aquarium a couple of years ago and looked at a display they had of strange objects found in the river Thames, including £300 cash in a money clip! unlucky! I don’t remember seeing a toilet seat, although I suppose it isn’t the strangest thing to see floating down a river. I can’t help wondering where it originated? how far it had traveled? I wish it could have told me its story… maybe this could be the subject of a children’s book.
Anyway, that’s the strange toilet related thing that happened to me this week.
Chester Beatty Library, Dublin Castle, Dublin 2
November 13, 2008

Sometimes I can get very involved in my lavatorial sleuthing, and will lurk in cubicles for hours at a time as other ladies go about their sometimes fascinating business, waiting for the coast to be clear for risky angle photography and hand-dryer experiments that verge on radical science!
On my visit to the Chester Beatty bogs, I was held up by two separate ladies for a total of about 13 minutes as they both went about very strange rituals at the sinks. The first was a young Spanish woman, who after washing her hands, continued to make numerous invisible adjustments to her hairstyle. It was very odd as she had that kind of very slicked back unmovable ponytail thing going on, held up with the inevitable orange scrunchy (shudder). There was some kind of product keeping the scraped back hair in shiny raked neatness and keeping the loose curls at the back impossibly crisp. She also had those two loose strands at the front that were so inexplicably popular at my secondary school in the late 90s.
So, as I was saying, after washing her hands she started making slight adjustments, tweaking individual curls, pressing down the already rock solid hair on her crown, fingering and twisting the frontal strands framing her neanderthal brow, and without making ant noticeable difference to her appearance she continued doing this for over 5 minutes!
When she finally buggered off I finally made my move to escape the cubicle and take the photo seen above, but was instantly thwarted by a second lady who flushed and made it to the sink seconds before me. I maintained my hiding place as Lady number two washed her hands. Now, this one appeared to be older, and less vain than her predecessor, she was maybe in her 50s, and sensibly dressed for a peaceful morning enjoying Oriental art. After drying her hands, she started to leave. I thought I was safe, but no! She caught her reflection in the mirror, took a second closer glance at her fringe, frowned and ruffled her hair thoughtfully, and then began a long process of pulling out her individual grey hairs over the sink.
SILLY WOMEN! I was stuck in my cubicle for further precious minutes, but finally did get out and took the following pictures and came to the following conclusions:

The Chester Beatty Toilets are lovely, they have a very simple deep red and white colour scheme, keeping it classic without being too plain or clinical.


A generous variety of mirrors, although far too tempting for the hair-vain lady unfortunately. But what is this! a freakishly circular stain on a ceiling tile! (by the way, I despise ceiling tiles, minus a million points Mr Beatty) but what could have made that stain? my mind is swimming with theories. An impressively aimed urination? a hair-gel explosion? maybe someone dropped a Goodfellas pizza on to the top of the tile and the grease seeped through? I’d love to hear your suggestions, why not send me some!
So that’s the Chester Beatty Library bogs. Well worth a visit, and why not stay for a gander round the arty historial stuff too? You might even learn something to distract you from your own hair…
Thank you.
The Gaiety, South King St. Dublin 2
October 14, 2008
Last weekend a friend’s band (the excellent Soul Purpose) were playing at the Gaiety and invited me to come along. I hadn’t been before and didn’t realise that after midnight this lovely theatre turns into Club Twaterama. The band were excellent and the place is nice but it is mostly filled with poserish men and loud women wearing shoes (or carrying shoes) that not only make the wearer walk like a hunchback with rickets but are also dangerous to anyone wearing a soft-toed sensible shoe anywhere in the vicinity. Purpley red stiletto bruises on my dainty size 5’s are not a souvenir I want to take home from any night out, or indeed any rush-hour train ride with ambitiously dressed business women.
I didn’t bother even taking photos as the toilet was packed with squawking ladies who -er- may have had a bit to drink and were having difficulty controlling their damned un-ladylike selves – and their damned dangerous shoes for that matter. The toilets were fine, and I’d like to go see some ballet in the Gaiety and review them properly at a calmer time, as the late night clientele had left them in quite a state.
Also, in vengeance for the fact that my boyfriend bought what he claims was one of the worst pints of Guinness he has ever had that night, for fecking outrageous 6euro50!! I admit that I stole an industrial size roll of toilet paper from that resistible restroom.. tee hee! at least if he gets the runs after that awful pint of Guinness, the Gaiety will pay for the clean-up!

I am the victor!





















