“Social media has never been so disposable”
I already read Twitter on the toilet. But that doesn’t mean I’m not tempted to give Shitter a go.
A short lavatorial farce (in three acts)
Two Players: a parent, and child
Act I
First Player: “I intend to make use of the lavatory. Dost thou wish to make use of same, afore?”
Second Player (offstage): “No.”
Act II
(First Player embarks upon stated assignment.)
Act III
(Pause, sufficient for first Player to have gained admittance to lavatory and made necessary preparations for stated assignment.)
(Pause, sufficient for first Player to have partially achieved stated assignment.)
(Pause. [Brief.])
Second Player (offstage): “I need to do a poo!”
Curtain
My latest parenting revelation is that you shouldn’t ask someone if they’ve wiped their bottom unless you’re prepared for an immediate, demonstrative browneye.
Thought I’d found a spare, unused nappy on the floor! Now imagine the most extreme possible antonym for ‘unused’, and comprehend my horror.
“A perverse interest in the biology of monsters”
Guillermo Del Toro, speaking to Rick Kleffel about his vampire novels The Strain and The Fall (co-written with Chuck Hogan), is worried about Godzilla dropping turds on Tokyo.
Managed to flick a vibrant yellow stripe of poo onto myself. Not my own, if that makes it any better.
Confirmed! Robot dancing to an incorrectly-sung version of Gary Numan’s ‘Cars’ is not amusing to child who is, at that moment, defecating.
It’s just gone 8.00am and I’ve already picked up one piece of human poo with my fingers.
Coroners must occasionally see things which test their professionalism and make them feel ill.
Changing nappies is like that sometimes.
It’s amazing how quickly poo disintegrates in bath water. Well, maybe it’s not that amazing.
I figure an ASS reader is some kind of special toilet paper with Braille lettering on it. Either way, when I tried to install one on my computer, all I got was a bunch of errors and some nasty smears on my monitor.
(Design Encyclopedia, which ought to know better)
Thanks to the packet of liquorice bullets I just gobbled down, I now know how quickly I can sprint from my desk to the loo.