Going for a poo
It used to be a rather quick affair. In, plop, wipe, flush, leave. Over the years it's getting to be a longer and longer experience.
It started with bringing in a newspaper, then I started to bring in a cup of tea, next up was an ashtray and cigarettes. It's only a matter of time before I get a mini cat flap installed on the toilet door so the wife can push through meals.

I used to recall my dad spending absolutely ages on the bloody toilet and as a kid I wondered, "What the hell is he doing in there?". Now I know what he was doing, very little indeed. In a house full of kids, dogs, tv, noise and general life....Doing nothing in an empty room with a locked door is surely the high point of ones advancing life. Soon the only time I will leave the toilet in the daytime will be to potter aimlessly around my shed.
( sneep used to date Freddie Starr's hamster, Tue 5 May 2009, 22:07, 2 replies)

It's true
I think I grew up backwards!!!
As a kid, I'd run extension leads through the house to plug in a tele, take in meals (post flush, used to take in a small bed table), tea etc, the older I'm getting, the quicker I'm getting but I guess it's down to my pre-shower poo then off to work. Weekends, I can be hours with books, laptop, newspapers... might as well live there.
God knows how long I'd spend in there when I have kids!
(Something funny, Tue 5 May 2009, 22:31, closed)

Clicks for this...
...my cludgie is a pine-scented kids-and-wife-free-zone. Blissful.
(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Wed 6 May 2009, 10:34, closed)