Ennui; or, A New Ease from Now On

 Quoth the poet: No retreat, baby, no surrender! We don't know what your coffee table looks like, but ours has a pile of books intended for summer reading the thickness of roughly three paper editions of the OED, of which we have read about one finger's breadth since June; every time we try to peruse a page we fall asleep. Writing, under these conditions, is a challenge to say the least. Still, this is not an apology, nor even an explanation, for our perhaps paltry bog blog post production of late. It is merely a preamble to the main business, which is -

- well hell, we don't know. Ennui? As Morrissey said, "I was looking for a job and then I found a job, and heaven knows I'm miserable now", or as Al Swearengen put it with perhaps rather more force, "Many times that's what the fuck life is: One vile fucking task after another". What with our current consumption of coffee and opioids, not to mention our customary preoccupation with syphilis, one would be hard pressed to say whether we are at risk of turning into a Romantic poet. Time will, no doubt, tell.

Be that as it may, we have some rather competent original content to delight and enlighten you with today. Shewee Fiend Friend, that intrepid straddler of time zones, has been to Amsterdam Airport again. Has she, in fact, blessed this international travel hub with her presence more times than any human now living? The regularity and vigour, indeed, with which Shewee Fiend Friend visits the main airport of the Netherlands is spectacular to the point of being worrying. It's almost as if she is gripped by some sort of fit, or seizure, exclaiming, "I'm going to Amsterdam Airport!" and then, as P. G. Wodehouse would arguably put it, sort of goes to Amsterdam Airport. Medical science will possibly never advance far enough to give us the answer; we'll have to content ourselves with drinking more coffee, and perusing these pictures. Here is Shewee Fiend Friend's review of what she argues is the best public toilet she has ever experienced.

I excitedly told the wrong audience ([Person whose apathy [was] so severe he didn’t even have critique]) that the Amsterdam airport’s toilet was the best public toilet I had experienced

Now I shall correct that error, at 4:30am because I’m jet lagged and can’t sleep of course

 

So lovely to enter a clean room with clearly marked doors that extend from floor to relatively high ceiling

The stall has these 5 wood coathooks of varying sizes

Honestly most were too big to be of any use with a backpack but they are very aesthetically pleasing. But you just need one. And if you’ve got a purse they’d be great

 

This device was chock full of paper and I love the seat sanitizer

 

Look at this bin placement. By the door. Amazing. My thigh did not press uncomfortably against it

 

So much space. Fun flush

Totally fine sinks

Nothing too fancy, just all very very efficient and comfortable

There is no limit, it seems, to the energetic antics of our friends. Jonny (who counts as a friend for administrative reasons) has an important contribution to make to the debate (is it still a debate if it has been settled that there is a wrong and a right way of doing things and the right way has been established and described at length?) on toilet roll orientation.

Schrödinger's bog roll?

One for your next correct hanging position debate

We note that whether this roll is hung correctly depends on the position of Jonny. If he is to the right of the roll it is hung correctly, but if he moves to the left, a large neon sign will, morally, erect itself, so to speak, over the latrine trench and scream, in large, frantic lettering, "ERROR! ERROR! FLEE!". Also, we would like to take this opportunity of informing Jonny that, whatever one's views on toilet roll orientation, one should never position oneself under the roots of an uprooted tree as it, we have been informed by a reliable source, may turn over again and crush one, under its root system, into clumps of soil. This is not a fate that we would wish on this bog blog's main contributor of toilet selfies. Or, arguably, anyone else.

Jonny has also excelled himself in the "rugged handsomeness with rustic hand-dryer and grit on the floor" genre of toilet photography, and submitted what might be the hottest bog selfie of 2021!

Is your mind boggled? Ours is!

Some random bar last night!

As regular readers will be all too aware, we are fans of clear signage at the Privy Counsel. If you, too, enjoy a) clear signage and b) men in rugged lumberjack shirts using authoritative body language, then brace yourself!

In a Thai restaurant I can't spell the name of

Chaophraya

There was a sign

Lovely bin

Poorly used

"Lovely bin - poorly used" might be the first line of a really great haiku about hygiene and the futility of human endeavour, if anyone felt like writing it. We would, but we are rather busy at the moment with the kind of crazy, overcompensatory coping mechanisms that you develop when you, for complicated reasons, can't walk, sit, or sleep. So fuck off, darlings, and leave us alone.

Oh yes, the Festive Video. We were possibly rather hasty, there, with our exhortation to our audience to fuck off. If you'd like, you can postpone the off-fucking for a couple of minutes and listen to this great song. It's a funny fact, we have observed, that even as you become increasingly conservative with age, you also become more of a hippy. Thus we have, with advancing years, developed a fascination with the moon, going so far as to stand outside staring at it, boring our friends with remarks about its whereabouts, sometimes even going so far as to comment on its colour and size, and downloading an app. Yes, it's that bad. Anyway, the app helpfully informed us yesterday, or if it was the day before, that there is now a quarter moon. Enjoy.

 Festive Video: Emmylou Harris, Easy From Now On. (You may also enjoy this version from the Netherlands.)

Related Reading

All posts featuring Shewee Fiend Friend

All posts featuring Jonny 

The original post explaining the science of toilet roll orientation

 

 

 

A Wild International Toilet Journey, Possibly Incorporating Sacrilege

We described in our last post, with plenty of poetic expression but not a whisper of a scintilla of an iota of hyperbole, our work situation. Said work situation is the reason our oh! so intellectual yet firmly grounded in common sense bog-blogging, beloved by really quite a few people, not all of whom are imaginary, has regrettably been reduced to a sad, slow trickle, only faintly reminiscent of the mighty river that once roared through the barren badlands that comprise the sum total of factual yet humorous toilet blogs, vitalising the dry banks and causing the desert to bloom.

We are blessed in having many humorous yet intellectual friends to keep us, if not sane then at least functioning (to a greater or lesser degree, depending on time of day and level of sobriety). Said friends keep sending us amusing and/or horrifying toilet pictures, and currently we are at the point where we simply must use these pictures or be crushed under a thundering avalanche of porcelain imagery. Hence we are simply going to post the pictures currently languishing in our archive, without any thought as to coherence or even sanity.

First up are a wonderful collection of photos from a dear friend of ours who is a nearly finished physician. She asked if we are still blogging about toilets and hygiene, and continued to tell us about her travels to Malaysia and Singapore. The toilets there, she says, are always clean and nice. Our friend also reflects that it is important that toilets be easily accessible and clean. The first pictures are from Gardens by the Bay, in Singapore, which establishment, our friend assures us, sported "proper clean and nice toilets".

Next we are treated to pictures of a toilet in Malaysia, "probably from a karaoke bar". We are, as regular readers are aware, not fond of cubicles, but these cubicle doors at least have the grace and decency to be colourful.

Finally we are treated to these photos from the airport in Kuala Lumpur.

Our friend notes with approval that the bins have one of those lids with a flip chute, so that you are not forced to view the contents of the bin when discarding your sanitary product. We also approve of these, and have ranted in the past about the fact that so many toilet designers assume that one has the use of both - or even three, or more - hands when operating a bin, being blissfully ignorant of the fact that it is rather hard to flip a lid when one or both hands are covered in blood and you are crouched weirdly in an insane toilet stall CLEARLY DESIGNED BY A MAN, trying not to bleed on your clothes, your shoes, or the wall.

We observed once in Copenhagen that having a foot-operable bin makes it approximately 180 % easier to not smear blood on everything in one's vicinity, and concluded that letting women design things would vastly improve the world. (See also Caitlin Moran's "If" poem, based on the line "If you can change your tampon in the toilet of a moving train".) Note to male designers everywhere: WOMEN HAVE ONLY TWO HANDS.

Our friend concludes her very enjoyable toilet odyssey with the words "These were all the pictures I took before I left my phone in a taxi and never found it".

Next up, we have pictures of a beautiful yet mysterious toilet in Amsterdam!

A friend of ours who is a midwife and a rampant feminist explains that this toilet is in the old first-class waiting room at Amsterdam Central Station, which is now a bistro. She adds:

Den stora frågan är ju om det är en duva med kronan över - i så fall har jag ju kissat på den helige ande

[The main question is if this is a dove with a crown - in that case I weed on the holy spirit]

Tycker mer det liknar en papegoja

[I think it looks more like a parrot]

 We are inclined to agree that the bird in question is a parrot - perhaps an Indonesian one? It appears that parrots where a common motif in Dutch art from the 17th century. We have also found evidence of at least one porcelain cockatoo associated with the Netherlands - perhaps this emblem of luxury worked its way, over the centuries, onto the porcelain of a toilet bowl? Certainly parrots and other exotic animals were frequently used as decorative elements on Dutch tiles in the 17th century. Why the parrot should be graced with a - presumably royal - crown is still a mystery to us, however. According to the internet, the restaurant in question has an actual parrot living on the premises, though we wonder what came first - the parrot or the bog?

Finally, we offer these pictures from a toilet in Prague:

 We asked the friend who sent these pictures a simple, yet searingly relevant question:

WHY?

The reply? 

I don't know. That's just the way it is.

 And that, dear readers, summarises the answer to the question of life, the universe and everything. Many thanks to our kind friends for sending us these pictures, which warmed our heart and lit up the darkness during very troubled times.

Let's have a Festive Video that not only continues the avian theme but soothes a troubled soul. We find this song comforting when things get too crazy. It was originally written and performed by Blaze Foley, but we find that we prefer this version by John Prine.

Festive Video: John Prine, Clay Pigeons


Related Reading

All posts featuring Singapore

Medievalist (With a Side Interest in Roman Archaeology) Friend's rather fabulous report from Singapore, into which we managed to squeeze a not inconsiderable amount of feminist ranting: All Mouth and No Trousers - Sichuan Food in Singapore

All posts featuring Malaysia

A post featuring a really great bin: Caitlin Moran Really Does Make Everything Better

Another post in which we rant about things designed by men: "Let Them Eat Cake" - Could It Be Any More Obvious That a Man Designed These Toilets?

Caitlin Moran reading the poem "If" I Were a Woman

All posts featuring delftware

All posts featuring the Czech Republic

Another post featuring a song by Blaze Foley: Cuteness, Intellectual Solace, and a Correction