Toilets
Toilets are weird half public/half private spaces. All sorts of stuff goes on in them. They are devious entrances and exits from venues, places to have sex, to snort drugs or even, get this, to defecate. Tell us your favourite toilet stories.
( , Fri 2 Sep 2005, 11:11)
Toilets are weird half public/half private spaces. All sorts of stuff goes on in them. They are devious entrances and exits from venues, places to have sex, to snort drugs or even, get this, to defecate. Tell us your favourite toilet stories.
( , Fri 2 Sep 2005, 11:11)
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Transformers / Glastonbury
I'm a collector of those toys from the Eighties and also a regular festival-goer. About 5 years ago at Glasto I popped into one of the plastic cubicles for a wazz when I noticed that someone had left a Transformer toy (it was Ravage, the jaguar that changes into a micro-cassette) in the little plastic basin/urinal bit to the side, on top of a mound of piss-soaked toilet paper. I opened the door and got my missus to pass me in some bog roll, which I wrapped around my fingers, extricated the little feller, then ran him under a cold tap for about 20 mins. Then I wrapped him in more bog roll and stuck him in my bag. When I got home I washed him in boiling water, and he's got pride of place in my collection to this day.
Though this story seems dull in hindsight, the pure coincidence of someone taking a Transformer to Glastonbury and leaving it for me to find in a toilet blew my mind somewhat as I was in a state of advanced chemical refreshment at the time...
( , Fri 2 Sep 2005, 12:00, Reply)
I'm a collector of those toys from the Eighties and also a regular festival-goer. About 5 years ago at Glasto I popped into one of the plastic cubicles for a wazz when I noticed that someone had left a Transformer toy (it was Ravage, the jaguar that changes into a micro-cassette) in the little plastic basin/urinal bit to the side, on top of a mound of piss-soaked toilet paper. I opened the door and got my missus to pass me in some bog roll, which I wrapped around my fingers, extricated the little feller, then ran him under a cold tap for about 20 mins. Then I wrapped him in more bog roll and stuck him in my bag. When I got home I washed him in boiling water, and he's got pride of place in my collection to this day.
Though this story seems dull in hindsight, the pure coincidence of someone taking a Transformer to Glastonbury and leaving it for me to find in a toilet blew my mind somewhat as I was in a state of advanced chemical refreshment at the time...
( , Fri 2 Sep 2005, 12:00, Reply)
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