Captivating Pictures

Tally-ho and a jolly good International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women to you! In case you are currently scratching your armpits, wondering what the hell such a day is in aid of, ponder the fact that one in three women worldwide has been subjected to physical or sexual violence. We have lit a candle for the survivors of domestic violence - and those who have died.

Gender roles may make people fucked up beyond belief, but we continue our quest, at the Privy Counsel, to highlight how awesome people can be. Mr Smith, for instance, sent us a message that made us laugh so loud we worried the window panes might shatter! That estimable and ventilation-aware gentleman writes:

A selection of toilet facilities courtesy of the state of California's federal penitentiary: Alcatraz

Enjoy...!

Alcatraz! Toilets! Alcatraz toilets!!!

 Dragon-Hunter Friend, also, has been busy on the epistolary front. She writes:

In Malaysia, I've discovered that you have to hope you end up with this...

Malaysian toilet

...and not this.

Malaysian squat toilet.

When I landed, the first toilet I found at the airport was the latter kind...looked all new and shiny, but was hiding the scary truth behind closed doors

 Because we happened to be quite drunk when the missive arrived, we replied enthusiastically:

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Asian toilets are AWESOME! So much more hygienic, when you think about it, than sitting on a seat that thousands of people have sat on! And you get a free Pilates workout! 

Dragon-Hunter Friend replied: 

Haha maybe so, but when you're carrying luggage around, and there's just a hole in the ground....lets just say my aim is not so true  ;)

We retorted with:

Eh. I used one in Italy, wearing ski boots, with a recently-torn-to-shreds knee ligament. It's all a matter of determination. 

Dragon-Hunter Friend's final reply was:

Haha

I think I've just got too many memories from French motorway stations when I was little, and getting my socks wet

Which is totally fair enough. NO TO WET SOCKS!

Just say no!

Finally, we have received a letter asking for advice. It says:

Dear Privy Counsel 
I have recently become a manager for the first time, and one of my subordinates is spending an inordinate amount of time on the toilet. How do I broach the subject? I mean, it could be anything from an unputdownable novel, to Chrohn's disease! Then again, perhaps this person has, at almost middle age, still not learnt to regulate his bowels. Please help.

We're fucked if we know. Thoughts? Any advice from our estimable and intelligent readers?

We've got a special treat in honour of International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women - a kick-arse song from a kick-arse Australian metal band called The Amazons! This band doesn't exist any more, alas, but from what we've heard they took a lot of shit, while they were around, from men who felt threatened by their kick-arseness. So let's play this video, while snarling like the unapologetically awesome, lip-glossed drummer, and vow to SMASH THE PATRIARCHY YEAH. 

Festive video - The Amazons, Celluloid


Related Reading
Our post on violence against women

How to avoid ending up with wet socks

Our previous post showing prison toilets: When a Voice Behind Me Whispered Low, “That Fellow's Got to Swing” - Australian Friend Visits Beechworth Gaol

All posts featuring Mr Smith

All posts featuring Dragon-Hunting Friend

Laura Bates on violence against women: Women are being assaulted, abused and murdered in a sea of misogyny 

An awesome movement: The White Ribbon Campaign

   

Coasting Along: Saving Time and Effort by Plagiarising Our Friends. Also Some Otters.

HOLY HANDGRENADES! What a day it's been! And what a week it's going to be! We feel in urgent need of the sequel to Bogsley Hansson Friend's soothing photographic journey through Oregon, don't you?
Yeah, we thought so.

This is as much original writing as we can manage today, by the way. The rest is ripped straight from our friends' correspondence. Huzzah!

Bogsley Hansson Friend writes:

Some shots from the Oregon Coast Acquarium in Newport, Oregon.

This is as good a time as any, we think, to bring out
this infographic about sharks not necessarily being the most dangerous predators around.

OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER
OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER
OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER
OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER OTTER

People! Leave those otters alone!

We seem to remember Bogsley Hansson Friend making a snarky comment about this sign,
but we're fucked if we can remember what it was.

SEA BIRDS! OF SOME KIND!

Bogsley Hansson Friend continues:

Plus a neat pet store complete with super friendly store dog. Got these paintings there.

DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG
DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG DOGDOG DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG DOGDOG DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG
etc.

At this point we would like to remind our gentle readers that Shewee Fiend Friend speaks very warmly of the Royal Tyrrell museum in Drumheller, Alberta. It is, and we quote ourselves:

"[t]he best museum ever. Shewee Fiend Friend even goes so far as to claim that this museum is the best part of Canada! Apparently, the dinosaurs are to die for, and you can confidently skip the rest of the country!"
We feel very strongly that the Royal Tyrrell museum may appeal to anyone who enjoys looking at otters and sea birds of some kind.

Oh, and also, because we tend to think of Bogsley Hansson Friend and Welsh Gangster Friend en masse, here's another reflection from Welsh Gangster Friend:

I'm currently in a pub where they don't ever shut the door to the gents' toilet so they can see into them from the bar. Lots of drugs in South Wales!

(You may remember Welsh Gangster Friend's reflections on pub toilets in Wales from the other week.)

Which brings us to another greeting, from Australian Friend, in her usual post-post-modern, savvy style:

Btw, just found this crap-related article... something for the Privy [Counsel]?

Said crap-related article is this one, about that time when Houston really had a problem. (This naturally reminds us of a) this whimsical post about space waste, and b) Uncle Sean's timely advice about blue-bagging - a term which, by the way, was previously unknown to us.)

Oh. And one last thing. Mr Smith alerted us to an article about the city of Portland, Oregon, inserting turbines into its sewers, to produce energy. Our mind finds itself in five kinds of bamboozlement.

That's it. That's all we had to say.

If we ever needed a festive video about Oregon and sloe gin fizz, it was - ye gods! - today.

Festive video - Loretta Lynn and Jack White; Portland, Oregon

Related Reading

The first part of Bogsley Hansson Friend's photographic journey through Oregon: Cannon Fodder

The post in which Shewee Fiend Friend speaks warmly of the Royal Tyrrell museum in Drumheller, Alberta, Canada: Shewees Are a Girl's Best Friend
Previous posts mentioning Loretta Lynn: Kicking Anglo-Saxon Arse: Festschrift to Shewee Fiend Friend
Previous posts mentioning Jack White: Jack White on British Plumbing: Unsubstantiated Claims

Of Mixer Taps and Spiritual Solace

Are you in need of spiritual solace? We're in need of spiritual solace - fuckloads of it.

We read somewhere that a helpful response to things being vile beyond measure is to force oneself to feel grateful. Apparently, according to the article we read once on the internet, the human mind is neurologically unable to feel gratitude and other emotions (like irritation, say, or plumbing-induced spine-chilling horror) simultaneously. Kind of like how, if you get one of the academics in your life to bore on and on about their favourite topic, they will be unable to simultaneously bore on and on about other topics. (Yeah, shit simile, we know. It's been a long day. On this subject we have nothing more to say, no other apology to offer.)

Anyway. We're lucky in not having to think long and hard about things to be grateful for, belonging as we do to the category of people who are quite often overcome with untimely and sometimes inconvenient gratitude. (If you've ever seen us drunk, you will know what we mean.)
Apart from being constantly, non-stop, round-the-clock grateful* - to the point where we know for a fact that people have believed us to be a bit retarded - for having access to functioning plumbing and cholera-free water, we can quite often be found, when not frantically busy with academic and other endeavours, musing on the awesomeness and kick-arse-ness of our friends.
Today, for instance, on the train, we found ourselves reminiscing about a lovely weekend we spent at Mr and Mrs Smith's house, and smiling - yes! Actually! Smiling! On a commuter train stuck in the arse-end of nowhere due to a signal failure on the kind of day that you fear to tell small children about lest they develop permanent trauma and a debilitating stutter - at the thought of the zing, joie-de-vivre and well-stocked booze cabinet of Mr and Mrs Smith.

Do you know Mrs and Mrs Smith? If not, let us enlighten you. Mr and Mrs Smith live in a house filled to the rafters with fantastic and functioning bathrooms, cheese, cocktail shakers, and lovely, lovely wine. They like having people round, and cooking awesome food, and they're totally fucking delightful people to hang out with. Is having such friends reason to be grateful? We'd say so.

Mr and Mrs Smith have, if we remember rightly, three bathrooms in their house, and very grand and mixer-tap-enriched they are, too. The one we found ourselves thinking fondly of today, however, on the cursed commuter train, was the little downstairs bathroom, tucked away near the back door, the one with all the shoes and wellies in it.

*except, of course, when in the UK. Let us on no account cease to be appalled and horrified by British plumbing.

THERE ARE POLKA DOTS ON THE BLIND

So much loveliness!

Mixer tap, lovely soap and even lovelier lotion! 
It's like a waterfall of spiritual solace washing over your soul!

Another nice thing that happened today, apart from us reliving pleasant memories of Mr and Mrs Smith's bathroom on the train, was that not one bus driver but two bus drivers were very nice to us. Two! God, we love bus drivers! Oooh, actually, did we mention that we met a lovely coach driver named Tony on a coach trip to Bath this summer? Awesome dude! Let's all be collectively grateful for all the nice bus drivers out there!

[We pause here for a couple of seconds to give you all time to run screaming for the hills.]

Because they're some of our favourite things and we fucking well deserve it: A divine mix of Father Ted and Elvis!

Festive video - Father Ted, Rock of Ages

Related Reading
If you, too, are appalled and horrified by British plumbing, you may find solace here:
Les Conduites Dangereuses - For Once It's Not Just Us Ranting
All posts about Mr Smith and Mrs Smith
Philosophy can, or so we've heard, offer spiritual solace: De Consolatio Philosophiae
If you are in need of some unbridled joy, get it here: Unbridled Joy

Less Intellectualism, More Prurient Pictures!

People have been doing it again. Sending us pictures, that is! (What did you think?) We keep meaning to do a proper review (considering that we still insist that reviews are our raison d'être, we do woefully few of them these days), using the first-class toilet material lurking in our archives. However, with fabulous stuff like this, who CARES about reviews? Also, we've been working very hard recently, and this, in combination with the weekend's sleeplessness and Danish-  Intellectual- and Obsessive Emmerdale Fan Friend-related alcohol consumption, renders us momentarily rather sluggish of intellect. So let us drop all pretence at intellectualism and indulge, shamelessly, in amusing pictures!

First out are our Very Brave Friend's photos from Manchester, a city which seems full to the brim of fabulous toilets.

These ladies adorn the wall of a toilet in Manchester!

We think this particular lady is extra fabulous.

As ever, we are all in favour of clear signage!
Does this, however, remind one rather distressingly
of the dangerous taps which plague Britain? It does.

Very Brave Friend says: "It was a bit stingy
with the amount of soap that came out, and it was foam-based."

Apparently this jar is for emergencies of the sanitary kind.

Wasn't that refreshing!

Next up is a festive picture from Jonny, who says: "Only students would need this warning. Toilet spot at York St John."

York St John toilet. Note says, "Please don't put anything down the urinals."

Mr Smith delighted us with this beautiful picture from the Rockaway Bar in Shoreditch. This gladdens us because we might be spending some time there in the near future! Not to give too much away, but you know how Shewee generously sent us a barrage of shewees to rock the night away with? Well, the rocking the night away-ing might be happening in the very near vicinity of this place!

Finally, we have a quote from Tudor Friend, who amusingly says,

Anyway, musician humour from my mum's friends, discussing which historic musical figure they'd leave their husbands for: "Give Schubert a shot of penicillin and I'd run away with him. There has to be a reason he caught the syph."

Are you holding on to your nacho hats? There is more stuff like this coming! We have a rich supply of whimsical toilet photography from German Friend, which we hope to showcase very soon, and Intellectual Friend has rather incautiously promised to send us the promised photos from Norway - perhaps even before the year is over!  There is just NO END TO THE FABULOUSNESS!

Related Reading:
A Note on Desperate Measures
The Mysterious Forbidden Lavatories of Manchester
Dirty Toilets and Dirtier Minds - A Nautical Theme
Dread, Rage, and Out-of-Order Urinals

Delirium Tremens: We Indulge in Paranoid Halloween Horror

Gaaaah! Is that the icy breath of SCREAMING BLOODY HORROR we feel on our neck? It is indeed! Halloween caught us unawares this year, engaged as we were in a multitude of intellectual activities (and a few strictly non-intellectual ones; the less said of those the better). But since it is apparently the thirty-first of October to-bloody-DAY, we shall of course be regaling our dearly beloved regular readers with our traditional SCREAMING BLOODY HORROR Halloween special! And have we ever got a multitude of gibber-inducing horrors in store for you today!

Let us start with Mr Smith. You will perhaps remember Mr Smith's admirable bathroom, with its model grouting and exemplary ventilation? Let's revisit the pictures from this truly excellent bathroom, which is still, after nearly two years, on the Privy Counsel list of favourite bathrooms ever!

Mr Smith usually keeps this shower curtain tucked away,
in order not to scare the cleaner to death.
Our Friends are nothing if not considerate.

Prints on the wall at Mr Smith's house.
Spot a theme, anyone?

GAAAH! IT'S MR SMITH WITH A BLOODY MEAT CLEAVER!!!

Just in case that's not enough spine-chilling horror to give you nightmares, let's have a look at some truly disturbing images from the Lund University Library. (For more pictures from this eminent institution, see Lund University Library: Festschrift to Intellectual Friend).

This looks perfectly normal, doesn't it? Is it, in fact, too normal?

A Swedish mixer tap, to all outward appearances perfectly normal, sane and healthy.
But did it just snarl?

It's a trap, right? The paper towel dispenser is actually waiting to bite one's hand off?

Satanic scribblings.

A lopsided, Hieronymus Bosch-esque monster with tusks!
Staring at the toilet visitor with a crazed, squinting, murderous gaze!

WHAT THE HELL IS THE HOSE FOR???

Time for us to return to our syphilitic research! Happy Halloween, everyone! 

Related Reading

It's Halloween - Time for Some Spine-Chilling Horror!

HALLOWEEN HORROR!

Oh! the horror! SCREAMING BLOODY HORROR HALLOWEEN SPECIAL: The British Workplace

Mr Smith's Plumbing: An Action-Packed Story

Turns Out Mr and Mrs Smith Have Lovely Bathrooms

Lund University Library: Festschrift to Intellectual Friend

Czech Mate (Yeah, Yeah, We Know, Sorry)

Mr Smith's Plumbing: An Action-Packed Story

We feel your pain. Not content with the pictures of Mrs Smith's bathroom, you have been aching, yes aching, to see Mr Smith's place of ablutions. Well, we here at the Privy Counsel are pathetically soft-hearted, and simply can't bear to see anyone in pain (we habitually put small furry animals out of their misery rather than let them suffer). So here you are.
You're welcome.

Mr Smith's inner sanctum

Lovely, lovely mixer-tap!

Eco-friendly water-saving flush

Mr Smith has an odd sense of humour...

...which extends beyond the bathroom

Lovely, lovely grouting!

This, dear friends, is a functioning ventilation unit.
Let's repeat that: Functioning. Ventilation. Unit.

There. Feels better now, doesn't it?

Related Reading
Turns Out Mr and Mrs Smith Have Lovely Bathrooms
They're brothers in ventilation - check out Czech Mate's bathroom: Czech Mate (Yeah, Yeah, We Know, Sorry)