Saturday, 29 November 2014

Hungover Ranting: Festschrift to Medievalist (With a Side-Interest in Roman Archaeology) Friend

The Privy Counsel has a proud history of festschrifts.* Our friends being so rampantly intellectual, there are more doctors** among them than you could shake a stick at,*** and we have decided that each friend who earns a PhD deserves a festschrift.****

Medievalist (With a Side-Interest in Roman Archaeology) Friend got her PhD quite a while ago - we can't actually remember when, though we do remember being dead jealous of how fetching she looked in her cap and gown. Here is her festschrift!

We actually have an agenda here, too. Unisex toilets in bars. What the hell is it with unisex toilets in bars? We know that Medievalist (With a Side-Interest in Roman Archaeology) Friend is with us when we say that this nuisance must cease! Let's do a dramatisation of the problem for you, based on real-life events.

One is in a great pub. After a couple of pints and a highly satisfactory discussion of Héloïse and Abélard, suitable names for the dogs of mad-as-spanners academics, and the archaeological merits of Saint Helena, one feels the need to heed the call of nature. One finally stumbles into the toilets, having skulked around for quite some time trying to find the sign pointing to them and having barged into a) the cleaning cupboard, and b) the kitchen (containing surly chef; really awkward) in the process. One finally, as previously mentioned, stumbles into the toilets, only to stumble right out again, horrified, because there are two dudes in beards in there. 
One lurches in horror. One thinks, panicked, that one must be much drunker than one thought, since one has obviously missed the time-honoured gender separation sign, and careened heedlessly into the men's toilets. One grabs onto the wall for support, and looks around, unnerved. There is no "Ladies" sign. Nor a "Gents" one. There is - horror of horrors - a unisex toilet! 
One minces back in, warily. The dudes in beards smile awkwardly. While one is ensconced in one's cubicle, trying to suppress one's mounting panic, one hears several other people stumbling back and forth, confusedly, trying to work out if the toilet is indeed a unisex one. 
It is the most unnecessarily cringe-worthy situation mankind has put itself in since - hell, we can't even think of a historical equivalent, it is that bloody awful. 
One washes one's hands quickly, shifting out of the way so another hipster dude can reach the paper towels, wishing one could take the time to adjust one's make-up properly, and spray one's hair, but not wanting to appear inordinately appearance-obsessed in front of the fifteen hipster dudes in beards and denim shirts who have suddenly appeared and are crowding the sink, all smiling awkwardly.

THIS NUISANCE MUST CEASE.

Don't get us wrong - we are committed to smashing the patriarchy and dissolving restrictive gender stereotypes. But we don't want to have to share a toilet with fifteen awkwardly smiling hipster dudes in beards and denim shirts. 

So, on that note, we have selected a set of weird toilets, where the cubicles look like Guantánamo Bay cells, but which are blessed with CLEAR GENDER SEGREGATION, to celebrate Medievalist (With a Side-Interest in Roman Archaeology) Friend. Ladies and gentlemen (and Jonny): the toilets at Kulturværftet in Elsinore!

*We have two, so far. (Three, with this one.) Read them here.
** Of the not-useful-in-an-emergency, non-medical kind.
***We don't recommend shaking a stick at any of them. Their overeducated state renders them highly strung and nervous.
****Well, some of them, anyway, on an arbitrary basis,  unless we're too drunk to remember.

It's even blue. No confusing, gender-neutral beige, black or green. This signage couldn't be clearer.
Did we mention before that WE ADORE CLEAR SIGNAGE?

Ok, so actually the signage is revolting, but at least it isn't confusing, right?

This sink was functional and blessed with mixer taps, and there wasn't a single bearded hipster dude crowding it.

Air-dryer.

Danes, like Swedes, do good toilets but are strangers to the polite subjunctive.
Strangers, in fact, to politeness as a concept.
"Close the door when you leave!"

A sturdy, confidence-inspiring lock and handle.

Concrete is actually a very unhygienic material for a toilet.
It looks quite cool in a post-apocalyptic way though, right?
The toilet roll holder is from Tork, of which we approve.

A ventilation pipe!
And, for unknown reasons, a cage-like structure to ensure toilet-goers don't escape.

Safe disposal of all one's old razor blades and syringes.
Finally, a chance to empty one's pockets of detritus and old needles!

A water-saving flush!

Well, that's that, folks. Be careful with unisex toilets!

Oh, except for the festive video, of course. Here's a special song for Medievalist (With a Side-Interest in Roman Archaeology) Friend, that we know she's a fan of!


Festive video - Lucinda Williams, Come On

Related Reading
Our friend Jane's latest rampantly intellectual blog post, called Interdisciplinarity: It's Not a Dirty Word
A toilet that we know Medievalist (With a Side-Interest in Roman Archaeology) Friend is very fond of:
Let's Get Medieval - King's Manor, York
All posts incorporating Medievalist (With a Side-Interest in Roman Plumbing) Friend
Other toilets in Elsinore:
Festive Things That Are Red
The Royal Toilet at Kronborg: "A Foul and Pestilent Congregation of Vapours."

In other news:
CHRISTMAS IS COMING
Have you considered turning your back on mindless consumerism and instead benefiting mankind by spending a penny on Oxfam Unwrapped, WaterAid, or ToiletTwinning? Or why not donate to Amnesty International, or your local women's shelter?

Saturday, 22 November 2014

Lead Pipe Dreams

We think it's time for a rant, don't you? A high-brow, vitriolic rant full of indignation? Yes!

Here are  Exuberant Archaeologist Friend's final comments on Italian toilets. We've divided them into manageable sections. As usual, a translation follows below the original. If you're so inclined, do take this opportunity of brushing up on your colloquial, ranting-about-toilets Swedish.

Exuberant Archaeologist Friend writes:
Dessa trevligheter fann vi vid vårt besök på Diocletianus termer. Som för övrigt var kolossala bortom all sans.
Termernas frigidarium. Det var kärt. Och helt jävla jättestort. Ett gigantiskt badkar i marmor stilfullt dekorerat med lejonhufvuden. Samt ett antal fragmentariska blyrör, däribland ett från Vespasianus regeringstid. Fenomenalt.

(We found these pleasantnesses when visiting the thermae of Diocletian. Which by the way were colossal beyond reason.
The frigidarium of the thermae. It was darling. And totally bloody huge. A gigantic bath-tub of marble, stylishly decorated with lion heads. Also a number of fragmentary lead pipes, among which one from the time of Vespasian. Phenomenal.)

A sideways sign pointing to the frigidarium, for extra festivity!

What a lark! What a plunge! one would like to indulge in!

Does one yearn for a soak in this oh! so stylish tub? You know one does.

Lead pipe! Marked "Vespasian"! Hubba hubba!

More hubba!

Hubba hubba hubba!

Hunka!

Hunka hunka hunka! Hunka!

Exuberant Archaeologist Friend continues:
För övrigt önskar jag säga detta om våra toalett-upplevelser i Italien:

Att människor som praktiskt taget i direkt nedstigande led härstammar från ett folk som i hundratals år var en av de ledande auktoriteterna på avlopp och vattenförsörjning INTE mäktar med att konstruera ordentliga faciliteter är för mig en gåta.
Ingenting med de italienska toaletterna höll en standard som man kan kalla acceptabel. För att kunna spola i toaletten relativt framgångsrikt var man tvungen att upprepade gånger trycka på spolknappen som för att PUMPA fram vattnet. Detta är en synnerligen undermålig konstruktion. Man var sedan tvungen att vänta i flertalet minuter innan tanken återfyllts helt. Vattentrycket var en skam för mänskligheten, med ett undantag (Nationalmuseum). Avsaknaden av lock på toalett-tankarna är oförståeligt.
 
Min make hade en synnerligen intressant upplevelse då han besökte en facilitet på ett kafé utanför San Clemente-basilikan; när han spolade i toaletten slocknade ljusen i cirka tre sekunder. Likaså när han började spola med vattnet i handfatet. På något oförklarligt vis verkade vatten och el vara sammankopplade. Trots en mindre oro för att bli elektrifierad valde denna modige man, denne hygienens förkämpe, att ändå tvätta sina händer för att sedan lämna denna demoniska toalett. Vad orsakade denna koppling mellan vatten och elektricitet? Vet ej. I sanning ett mysterium i klass med Loch Ness monstret.
(By the way, I would like to say this about our toilet experiences in Italy: 
That people who are more or less direct descendants of a people who, for hundreds of years, were one of the leading authorities on sewers and water supply DO NOT manage to construct proper toilets, is a mystery.
Nothing about the Italian toilets kept to a standard that you could call acceptable. To be able to flush relatively successfully, one had to repeatedly press the flush button, as if to PUMP the water through. This is a singularly inferior construction. One then had to wait for several minutes before the tank was completely refilled.   The water pressure was a disgrace to humanity, with one exception (the National Museum). The lack of a lid on the water tanks is incomprehensible. 
My husband had a singularly interesting experience when visiting the facilities of a café outside the San Clemente basilica; when he flushed the toilet, the light went out for about three seconds. The same thing happened when he turned the water on in the sink. In some inexplicable manner, the water and electricity seemed to be connected. Despite a certain worry of being eletrocuted, this brave man, this champion of hygiene, still chose to wash his hands before leaving this demoniacal toilet. What caused this connection between water and electricity? I know not. It is verily a mystery on the level of the Loch Ness monster.)
Basilica san Clemente. An anonymous café near here gives one the opportunity of dicing with death.
Image from disfrutaroma.com.
Sammanfattningsvis kan man säga att italienarna tyvärr mist sin plats som en framstående civilisation. Troligtvis vänder sig många stora romare i sina gravar vid tanken på denna degradering. Varför det har blivit så är en gåta. En gåta som vetenskapen kanske aldrig kan finna ett svar på. Tack och lov finnes det en god tröst i vinet som trots allt fortfarande är av utmärkt kvalité. Men skammen kvarstår för det italienska folket när en ättling till de germanska stammarna ställer frågan: 
"Who are the barbarians now, motherfuckers?"
(In conclusion, one could say that the Italians have unfortunately lost their position as a great civilisation. Most probably, several eminent Romans are turning in their graves at the thought of this degradation. Why things have turned out this way is a mystery. A mystery that science will perhaps never find an answer to. Thankfully there is comfort to be found in the wine, which is, despite everything, still of an excellent quality. But the shame remains for the people of Italy, when a descendant of the Germanic tribes poses the question: 
"Who are the barbarians now, motherfuckers?")

Ouch.

That's it from Exuberant Archaeologist Friend for now, but we're certain there will be many more splendid rants in future. Other things that are coming in the near future are:
More toilets from German Friend (we still have a large pile in the archive - just waiting for the pheasants to pipe down), more toilets from Athens (with, by the way, excellent plumbing), another photo of Jonny in the bath (strap on your girdles and try to contain yourselves, ladies!).

A young person of our acquaintance told us that Don't Stop Me Now is an excellent song for cleaning - "My whole room was done before the song was over. Hoovering and everything". So, because Italians NEED TO CLEAN UP THEIR ACT, let's hear it!


Festive video - Queen, Don't Stop Me Now

Related Reading
All posts incorporating Barbarians
All posts by Exuberant Archaeologist Friend
We seem to have a talent for making our friends go off on rants about toilets. Here's another instance of this happening: Les Conduites Dangereuses: For Once it's Not Just Us Ranting

In other news:
CHRISTMAS IS COMING
Have you considered turning your back on mindless consumerism and instead benefiting mankind by spending a penny on Oxfam Unwrapped, WaterAid, or ToiletTwinning? Or why not donate to Amnesty International, or your local women's shelter?

Wednesday, 19 November 2014

Let's Party Like It's World Toilet Day!

We think you should spend today in a haze of riotous champagne consumption. Why do we think you should spend today in a haze of riotous champagne consumption? Why, because it is World Toilet Day, of course!

Only two things in life are certain: death and taxes. When/if something pleasant does occur, therefore, one should seize the opportunity to celebrate! With, if at all possible, reckless abandon!

One thing that cheered us up recently was encountering a small boy who proclaimed his favourite colours to be pink and purple, and spent an inordinate amount of time making not only a mud pie, but a mud pear torte, and a darling mud vegetable soup with a blue plastic-cap garnish. This progressive small boy did all this while remaining totally un-harassed and un-bullied. Cred to his parents! Cred to his school! This brief, but by no means unimportant, encounter filled our heart with joy, and caused us to exclaim, jubilantly: "Take that, patriarchy! UP. YOUR. ASS."

The world is irrevocably fucked up in all manner of ways, but some things are becoming less fucked up, as illustrated by the parable about the small boy above. Another thing that is slowly improving is humanity's attitude to water and plumbing. More and more people are thinking about sanitation and water preservation. For instance, Feisty French Friend has promised us pictures of her soon-to-be-renovated bathrooms, which are going to incorporate water-saving sinks, and Bogsley Hansson Friend reports that the Arcola Theatre in London already has them!

Bogsley Hansson Friend writes:

The bog at the Arcola Theatre in London. Going to see The Rivals there in a bit. Had a nice DIY feel to it. And impressive curved combo bog / sink unit. Alas did not try it out in all its glory. Although have to have incredibly long arms to reach the bog roll. Or stand up. [Editor's note: You're not supposed to be standing up. You're supposed to be embracing riotous champagne-induced leglessness.]
Sturdy toilet roll holders also bring joy to our heart!

Woof! A water-saving sink! The water you wash your hands with is used to flush the toilet.

We just adore ventilation pipes, too.
This one is accompanied, Bogsley Hansson Friend insists, by mood lighting.
Let the dancing commence!
More than one person warmed our heart by sending us this link to a thought-provoking BBC article about toilets around the world. Billions of people don't have access to things that many of us take for granted - clean drinking water and somewhere safe to go to the toilet. Lack of sanitation holds economic development back, and causes untold suffering due to preventable, unnecessary diseases. However, lots of organisations are committed to improving sanitation around the world, for instance Oxfam, the Gates Foundation, Water Aid, and ToiletTwinning.
We think that's worth celebrating!

Let's have a riotously festive video! Yeahh!!


Festive video - Emmylou Harris, Two More Bottles of Wine

Related Reading
All previous Word Toilet Day posts:
World Toilet Day 2013 - Hurrah for Toilets, Even Crap Ones!
Why Today Is a Toiletally Important Day
World Toilet Day 2011 - Taking Our Baths and Our Women
It Finally Happened - World Toilet Day

A related story, incorporating the above-mentioned Feisty French Friend (who, by the way, is prone to literally forcing champagne down her friends' throats):
A Morally Improving Story for World Toilet Day

Another water-saving toilet at the Museum of Wine in Chinon, sent to us by Quasi-Intellectual Friend:
On the Nature of Academic Friendships

In other news:
CHRISTMAS IS COMING
Have you considered turning your back on mindless consumerism and instead benefiting mankind by spending a penny on Oxfam Unwrapped, WaterAid, or ToiletTwinning? Or why not donate to Amnesty International, or your local women's shelter?

Sunday, 16 November 2014

Introducing Our Favourite Aunt

Bertie Wooster had a favourite aunt. Her name was Dahlia, and she enjoyed fox-hunting and French cuisine. We, too, have a favourite aunt. Our aunt enjoys, among other things, archaeology and strident feminism. She has many good qualities and is engaged in many laudable pursuits, but the foremost of her achievements, the crème de la crème of her activities, is undoubtedly her recent decision to send us a toilet photo from Rome.

Our aunt is rampantly intellectual and is well-versed in many subjects, but has hitherto been strangely inactive in the fertile field of toilet photography. It is our pleasure to introduce her very first contribution to this exciting discipline.

Toilet in the near vicinity of the Castel Sant'Angelo, Rome

View from the Castel Sant'Angelo, Rome
We have more pictures of Roman toilets, along with a spirited critique of Italian plumbing, from Exuberant Archaeologist Friend, coming - all good things to those who wait!

In other news,  a person who wishes to be known as "an anonymous benefactor" sent us a link to an article in the New York Times about how building toilets in India helps reduce the rate of disease, and simultaneously helps protect women from being raped or eaten by wild animals. A thousand hurrahs for sanitation!

We also have a very cheerful picture for you. Our mate Jonny is, as many of you know, a lovely dude, if a bit disgusting at times. Jonny can be a raging idiot (you know what we mean, Jonny), but we like to think that he is ever growing and developing in maturity and intellect. For instance, Jonny recently developed in the direction of taking a photo of himself looking rampantly intellectual in a toilet! This worthy achievement is totally worth a round of applause - well done, Jonny!

We can't think of anything more attractive than a lovely dude
being rampantly intellectual in a toilet. Can you?
In honour of our lovely aunt, our anonymous benefactor, and Jonny, let's have a festive video that celebrates two of our favourite things -  rampant intellectualism and strident feminism!


Festive video - Dolly Parton, Dumb Blonde

Related Reading
More on sanitation in India: There Is Too Much Going On. This Blog Post Will Probably Give You a Migraine.
Exuberant Archaeologist Friend has written some highly exuberant reviews of Italian toilets.

In other news:
CHRISTMAS IS COMING
Have you considered turning your back on mindless consumerism and instead benefiting mankind by spending a penny on Oxfam Unwrapped, WaterAid,  or ToiletTwinning? Or why not donate to Amnesty International, or your local women's shelter?

Friday, 7 November 2014

Rosy-Fingered Dawn (But No Bloody Lock on the Door) in Istanbul

We're in a good mood today, so we'll start with some ancient Greek poetry, to get the weekend off to a healthy start.
ὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύνταἥμεθα δαινύμενοι κρέα τ᾽ ἄσπετα καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ:
ἦμος δ᾽ ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθε,
δὴ τότε κοιμήθημεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.560ἦμος δ᾽ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
δὴ τότ᾽ ἐγὼν ἑτάροισιν ἐποτρύνας ἐκέλευσααὐτούς τ᾽ ἀμβαίνειν ἀνά τε πρυμνήσια λῦσαι:
οἱ δ᾽ αἶψ᾽ εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον,
ἑξῆς δ᾽ ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.565ἔνθεν δὲ προτέρω πλέομεν ἀκαχήμενοι ἦτορ,
ἄσμενοι ἐκ θανάτοιοφίλους ὀλέσαντες ἑταίρους. 

"So, then, all day long till set of sun we sat feasting on abundant flesh and sweet wine; but when the sun set and darkness came on, then we lay down to rest on the shore of the sea. [560] And as soon as early Dawn appeared, the rosy-fingered, I roused my comrades, and bade them themselves to embark and to loose the stern cables. So they went on board straightway and sat down upon the benches, and sitting well in order smote the grey sea with their oars. [565] Thence we sailed on, grieved at heart, glad to have escaped death, though we had lost our dear comrades."
(Homer, The Odyssey. Citation from perseus.tufts.edu, Hom. Od. 9.536.)

Istanbul at dawn. Image from theguideistanbul.

When embarking on our semi-recent Greek adventure, we decided to travel to Athens via Istanbul, because Istanbul is a historic city, and we yearned to tread Turkish soil, if only for four hours while waiting for our connecting flight.*
As we approached Istanbul Dawn, believe it or not, appeared; the rosy-fingered. We're not prone to sentimentality at the Counsel, but it did look pretty damn fabulous (in the original sense).  Once arrived at the airport, having consumed coffee, we made the following notes:**
Istanbul at crack of dawn 
No toilet paper, no bloody lock on the door. No paper towels, obvs. Great soap & water (well, there was some). Lovely pastry and coffee. Aurora, rosy-fingered dawn. 
A couple of hours later we added:
Second one has lock and bog roll. Staff at Starbucks totally fucking lovely. Got a compliment on one's hair!*** Can't photograph sink.
* It was a lot bloody cheaper that way.
** We also found a scribble in our notebook saying that the soap at the Athens Archaeological Museum smelled like roses. Unfortunately we forgot to mention this in our review.
*** Regular readers may remember that time when CAITLIN MORAN SAID SHE LIKED OUR HAIR.

Istanbul, crack of dawn.
The lock didn't bloody work. 

The seat was cracked and the whole place had a deplorable smell.

At least there was a decent coat hook.
We are strident opponents, at the Privy Counsel, of pictures of food on the internet.
However, we made an exception in the case of this coffee and Turkish pastry,
which we consumed at Istanbul airport. The pastry had poppy seeds, which was the closest thing
we could get to opium at the time, on it.

Because we're quite into our melodramatic country songs at the moment, here's one that we like to think is vaguely toilet paper-related. (Or, if you're that way inclined, listen to the Odyssey sung in the original, with a lyre, or similar, here. Seriously, give it a go - it sounds well fucked up.)


Festive video - The Band Perry, Chainsaw

Related Reading
All our posts from Greece:
Beware of Greeks Bearing Gifts, But Totally Trust the Toilet Attendant

If you should crave more learned Greek ramblings, get them here:
A Calamitous and Inflammatory Blend of Toilet Paper and History

If you should crave a useful tip on learning Greek, get one from Shewee Fiend Friend here:
"Oh for Shame, How the Mortals Put the Blame on Us Gods" - We Indulge in Melodrama

More pictures of airport toilets:


A really nice soap that smells like roses:
I Never Promised You a Rose Garden, But Here's a Picture of a Lovely Soap

Wednesday, 5 November 2014

We Cheer Ourselves Up Using Pictures of Roman Plumbing, and Caitlin Moran

You know when you end up having to spend 27 minutes looking at pictures of Caitlin Moran on the internet just to be able to get on with the rest of your day?
As you know, we don't like to complain, but there are moments when one wishes that there was a lot less mansplaining happening, and a lot more syphilis. If the crotch of one's tights would stay in the position intended for it, and not slide down to one's knees, that would also be great. (One can dream, can't one?)

Incidentally, before we go any further, here is an emergency picture of Caitlin Moran. (We can't sit down and drink ourselves into a stupor while enjoying a spirited rant with all of you, so this is as close as we can get to providing spiritual solace.)

Caitlin Moran makes everything better.
Now exhale. Feels better, doesn't it? And guess what. It gets even better! It's dark outside, and there's all kinds of doom happening left, right and centre, and also there's something really weird going on with the Privy Counsel HQ toilet, which we hope will sort itself out before anything distressing happens. But we had a cheeky pint (and, incidentally, some seriously calorific pastries and, funnily enough, an extended spirited rant) with Exuberant Archaeologist Friend today, and realised that we haven't posted all her Rome photos. So here are more of Exuberant Archaeologist Friend's Rome photos! Huzzah!

Exuberant Archaeologist Friend writes, in her bold, plucky style (a translation follows, as usual, below the original, but do take the opportunity, if the mood takes you, of brushing up on your colloquial Swedish):
Detta är lite annat smått och gott:
Vad vi tror var ett avlopp som vi hittade på Colosseum. Synnerligen intressant. Kanske har det sköljt bort mer blod än avföring men det lämnade dock ett bestående intryck.
Vi fann en offentlig dryckesfontän i Ostia samt vad vi tror var ett annat avlopp. Detta var trevligt. I synnerhet som detta avlopp var klädsamt täckt av rik grönska. Vi blev en aning poetiska. Fontänen var mycket rar och vi önskade innerligt att den fortfarande fungerade. Men ack, den var snustorr och detta beredde oss en viss sorg.
Mera bilder följer.
(Here are a few more titbits:
What we think was a drain, that we found in the Colosseum. Singularly interesting. It might have drained away more blood than faeces, but it still left an indelible impression.
We found a public drinking fountain in Ostia, and what we think was another drain. This was nice. Especially since the drain was becomingly covered in lush greenery. We waxed somewhat lyrical. It was a very dear fountain, and we heartily wished that it still worked. But alas, it was bone dry, and this caused us a certain sorrow.
More pictures coming.)

ZOMG A DRAIN. IN THE COLOSSEUM. IN THE COLOSSEUM!

Huzzah - a drinking fountain in Ostia!

Another drain. This one is becomingly covered in lush greenery.
That's all we have energy for now - we have to watch a frivolous tv programme, then get on with some grammar and maybe bash our head against the wall for a bit.

There are lots more exciting posts coming up, though - Bogsley Hansson Friend sent us an awesome picture of a ventilation pipe (and also a water-saving sink!), and there is one more Italian instalment from Exuberant Archaeologist Friend coming, in which she loses her shit over Italian plumbing, in a manner which inspires feelings of courage and valour in one's breast.

Today's festive video is, inevitably, going to consist of a melodramatic country song.


Festive video - Miranda Lambert, Mama's Broken Heart

Related Reading

All previous posts about Caitlin Moran:
Joy in the Morning, Afternoon, and Well Into the Evening - Caitlin Moran in a Bathroom

In Which We Indulge in a Feminist Rant and, of Course, Incontinence

Caitlin Moran - Our Favourite Non-Toilet-Related Person

That time when we were enormously excited by a drain in Athens:
The Ancient Agora Museum in Athens - Unbridled Stoicism

That time when we tried to cheer ourselves up with a picture from our mate Jonny:
We Clutch Desperately at Straws, and Try to Cheer Everyone Up with One of Jonny's Pictures

Another post in which we bitch and moan a fair amount, about, among other things, grammar:
"Oh for Shame, How the Mortals Put the Blame on Us Gods" - We Indulge in Melodrama

All previous posts from Exuberant Archaeologist Friend
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