Tuesday night, while in the throes of an uncommon cold, I went horizontal on the couch and watched four episodes of Green Acres in a row, then an entire DVD of Beavis and Butthead. And it was just what the doctor ordered. I felt a lot better the next morning (although I still wasn’t quite ready to go limbo dancing), and I credit my TV choices from the night before.
Mr. Anderson to the cops: “One of them calls himself Butthole, and the other one’s name is Joe. I believe they were Oriental.”
I think I dislodged twelve pounds of phlegm laughing at that line…
You know how everybody says they don’t know a person who’s actually participated in a national political poll? Well, I used to say the same thing, but no longer. Because yesterday afternoon Toney took part in a so-called focus group, at a local hotel, and represented thousands of registered voters(!).
She said they asked her a lot of questions about local races, showed her campaign ads and asked questions about them, then grilled her about McCain vs. Obama.
The whole process took about 35 minutes, and they gave her a crisp $50 bill at the end. Man, I’m jealous… I never get called for such things. Hell, I’d give them a hundred dollars worth of opinions, for their fitty.
Near the end, Toney said they showed her video footage of what was supposed to be average citizens from the area, pontificating about politics. They asked her if she believed they were really locals, or actors.
Toney guessed they were actors, and they asked why. “Because they’re all nice looking, and well-groomed,” she answered. And this reportedly triggered much laughter amongst the polling staff.
Good stuff.
Buck sent me this picture today. It’s supposedly a toilet in the Ukraine. Not a urinal, but an actual toilet – in a ladies room.
Can someone please help me out with the logistics of such a set-up? What do you have to do, remove all your clothes from the waist down, including shoes and socks, and straddle that thing?
Good God. Can you imagine the splash-back? Forget crapping at work… I might not even be able to do it at home, if I had to deal with something like that. It makes me all nervous and anxious, just looking at it.
I asked Buck about the mechanics of using such an apparatus, and here is his reply:
You drop trou, squat and pray the back of your pants and underwear are far enough forward so as not to become a cloth catch basin. It’s the same thing as when you’re shitting in the woods while hunting–except there’s heat, privacy, and water to rinse things off. But now that you mention it–I see no toilet paper holder. WTF?
Do any of you have information on this curious Ukrainian crap-catcher? And what other ridiculous novelty toilets have you encountered in your travels?
Remember how I was having trouble reading, all of a sudden? Well, that’s over, and here’s the book that broke the spell. For whatever reason, I was into it from the very first page. Whew! I was afraid I was in the early stages of time-released retardation.
When I finish, I might feel confident enough to finally tackle The Stand. But we’ll see how it goes.
And thanks to Rhino Records, there are even more must-own CDs on record store shelves – mocking me, and calling me hurtful names. On Tuesday they completed their Replacements reissue project, by re-releasing the band’s four major label albums: all remastered, expanded, and fancied-up.
Here’s a brief overview, and your inevitable Amazon links:
Tim
Pleased to Meet Me
Don’t Tell a Soul
All Shook Down
The first two are stone-cold classic gottabuyems, and the last two aren’t too shabby either. Snap ’em up, before they start making you feel guilty.
And I’ll leave you today with a Question, based on a conversation Toney and I had last weekend: have you ever seen a ghost?
Toney tells a story from her childhood, in which her family was staying at an old farmhouse in Montana for a couple of months. Yeah… who knows? Sunshine was involved, so it’s best not to even think about it.
In any case, Toney says she woke up one night and thought she saw a lady ironing clothes in the middle of the room. Believing she was only dreaming, she allowed herself to drift back to sleep.
And the next morning Sunshine stumbled out of the bedroom, and said, “Man, I had the weirdest dream last night. I thought I woke up and saw a woman, in an old-fashioned dress, ironing clothes at an ironing board.”
So, there ya go. Have you ever seen what you think might’ve been a ghost? I haven’t, so I can contribute nothing to this one. But if you’ve got something for us, use the comments link below.
And I’ll see ya next time.
UPDATE: Jorge sends along these photos of another, um, exotic toilet. He explains:
My wife was in the Peace Corps in Ecuador and stayed with a family with this set up for a month or so during her training.
The laundry area is to the left of the photo and the hog pen is to the right. There is toilet paper, but no seat, no tank. Just a bowl. Afterwards you pour a bucket of water in to create the “flush”.
I’m skairt!
I had a girlfriend back in college that went to China occasionally to teach English to the locals. She had all sorts of wonderful toilet stories (and food stories, too).
Don’t believe in ghost, never had a reason to. Althoug one night while driving down a lonely country road I saw a bunch of white figures coming down the road. Once they lit the cross, I knew who it was. I didn’t stick around long enough to figure out what they were looking for and I wasn’t interested in partying with them good ol boys.
I haven’t seen any ghosts but my neighbor has seen a woman dressed in an apron with ruffles and Donna Reed hair seeing my son and me off in the morning. I hear music sometimes and cannot find the source. I don’t even bother looking anymore.
re: squat toilets – what do folks do when their knees are shot to hell and they cannot squat. tough shit, huh?
Well – this whole squat-toilet thing got me to thinking. I could’ve sworn Jeff used this as a Further-evidence link a few years back. If not – maybe he should:
http://www.toilet-related-ailments.com/
Speaking of ghosts this is pretty crazy: http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/living/2008/09/25/dnt.ghostly.images.on.tape.kshb
Ghosts eh….
Two quick stories. My father is an architect who restores historical buildings to their orginal grandeur. One such place was the Indian Queen Tavern (built 1734 or so) in Bladensburg MD. In about 1981 my dad and i were in the building, having had to pull off sheets of plywood to get in, it was vacant and well sealed, and we had gone upstairs to the”inn” portion of the building to measure stuff. While in the first room, someone walked out of the back room, past us, down the hall, and down the stairs. There were no footprints left, and we saw no one. We chuckled to ourselves, checked all the rooms for humans, found none, and went back to measuring. Five minutes later it happened again, and Dad declared our job done and our feet didn’t hit the ground till the car doors were open. that old man could move when he needed to.
Also in 1986 in a Roy Rogers Rest on Capital Hill in DC that had been a funeral parlor (you want embalming fluid with that?) in the 1800’s we were closing up to go drinking ( hadn’t started yet mind you)
and three times saw a foot wearing a black shoe disappear around a corner INTO the freezer. Nobody there at all, and three of us saw it each time
Them’s my stories, my time is up. Peace..
I have had to use a toilet like that. The brush thing to the side is used to clean yourself off with. I was in Turkey during my time in the military. I went downtown and the Turkish trots hit. I walk in and see that thing. I let loose, and wished I was dead. I look at the rag on a stick in soapy water (In your pic on the left) and decide to cleanse myself with my underwear. I just thew them in the corner when I was done. From that point on, if I was going off base, I had a roll of TP in my backpack.
I did see a ghost when I was a kid (An old lady in a bathrobe gave me an evil look) and I think my new house (built in 1890) is haunted. We hear crashes and doors open and close, but when I go and invsigate, there is nothing there.
Just got back home. Checking on things. I can’t wait until this ghost story thing is behind us. The mind plays tricks on you – or is it a Gretchen-type black blob in the mirror? God. I won’t sleep for days. I can’t wait to move on, for shitsake.
No ghost stories.
When I was in Cairo, Egypt back in 1995, I only saw “western” toilets, but I’m not sure I had to use a public toilet except the one at the museum.
Like Christine, I’ve never figured out the mechanics of peeing while squatting (except in bars over toilets) w/o peeing on my pants and shoes, so I’ve never ever peed in the woods.
That toilet seems very similar to the squat loos in Japan. They usually have a mixture of western and squat toilets in most of their bathrooms, but if you’re unlucky enough to need number 2 while the wester one is in use, then you’ve got to make do.
The first time I used one I’m pretty sure I was squatting backwards. But the idea is you basically pull your pants down to your knees (or hike your skirt up for girls) and go to town while in a squatting position. Not the most comfortable, and you don’t exactly want to loose your balance as the floor is usually wet (!). They are quite a lot more efficient for the flushing though, you literally poop on the porcelein, and when you flush a jet of water just comes and takes it away. Just like magic!
Anyway, as for the ghost thing, when I was younger (around 7 or 8) I apparently had quite a lengthy conversation with my mother’s grandfather who passed away just after I was born. Yes, I told my mother all about it the next morning who was horrified to find out I could describe his appearance in detail without ever having seen a photo of him. Creeeepy.
I’m in Europe at the moment, and while I’ve been in a number of questionable “water closets”, fortunately I haven’t seen one like that yet. Of course in some of the places I have stayed it wouldn’t have surprised me.
Seen a ghost? No. A ghostly type of thing? Yes, but I’m too drunk to write about it.
I saw a cat ghost in my old apartment. I was asleep on the couch when I distinctly felt four little paws crawling up my legs, up my back, and pressure as it launched itself onto the lamp table. I looked up and there it was, a yellow cat sitting there washing his paws. I freaked out, jumped up and turned on the light, and no cat. I walked around for about an hour calling “Kitty kitty kitty…” There’s no way a cat could have gotten in there.
Huzzah! I vaguely remembered posting a picture of that mask to someone’s website a few years back. I just found it buried in his site. Here you guys go. Sorry, Jason, for any future nightmares. Heh heh. ;oP
Gretchen – Sugarmuffin? Is that you? Just stop it. I’m going for a walk. No shittin kitten. I won’t come back here sober, sick bastards.
Shit man, one would think the mask would be a little more distracting than the stupid alias!
Gretchen – Not for me! I mean, come on, kissing necks is one thing. Even if you don’t find me attractive you might be able to close your eyes and still enjoy it for a while. Not so with your little mask / terrifying black blob in the mirror and at the basement door trick, sugarmuffin. And I had a reasonable excuse. I was drunk! Are you drunk?
God. Give me a break. I’ve tried to be nice to you. Naw, just kidding. Loved your scary black blob story. But I will have to drink myself to sleep. All in good fun.
Drive on any major highway in France, from the Chunnel on downwards, and these will be the standard in the women’s rooms at roadside rest stops.
My two girls refused to use them and we had to go into a restaraunt, with an outside beer/wine patio, for them to go. Naturally, I sucked down a few cool ones as part of the process.
So it worked well for me!
Good Evening Surf Reporters!!!
So sorry I’m late, what did I miss??
May I say that is the cleanest squatter I have ever seen? In Baku, Azerbaijan, they are literally like outhouse holes, except instead of sitting, you squat. And there is no button to flush it. My friends and I took to running in with Lysol cans blaring, and tampons stuck in our noses to use the facilites. That Lysol really infuriated the old ladies who were trying to have a cup of tea in the bathroom. I shit you not…
Poop and poltergeists, that’s what you missed JCIII. In other words, just another normal day on the WVSR. Now if we could combine the two subjects, say, a specter dropping spooky shits in an inappropriate location, that would be just grand. ;oP
Now that’s a black shape of a whole ‘nother kind!
Oh Gretchen. I did try. You might give me a “thumbs up” for the effort. I’ll stop for a while. You’re exhausting.
In Cuba most of the stall doors and toilet seats were missng. I never did get a satisfactory explanation for that. (I was there on a student visa 10 years ago).
As for ghosts, yep, lived in 2 separate haunted houses. The most memorable occassion was when my daughter was brushing her teeth and bsth toys were popping out of the tub like popcorn.
bath, I mean
Misselle- bath, of course. What did you think of Cuba?
Here are Jorge’s photos of a toilet in Ecuador:
http://thewvsr.com/index.php/toilet-in-ecuador/
I added his explanation to the end of the update above.
And I think I’m sealed-off for good.
Jeff, in Thailand, they just have a hole cut in the floor and a pale of water in case you eh miss the target. Or was that for washing your hands, I didn’t see any TP either. I boogied my ass back to the hotel where they had proper toilets.
A quick addendum: Those pictures are of the remodeled bathroom.
In the close up shot of the bowl you can see the edge of a doorway on the left side of the frame and the wide shots show how the front wall was added on.
That’s the new shower. The shower works by carrying buckets up the ladder to the big blue barrel on the roof.
When my wife was there you bathed in the room with the bowl using a bucket and ladle.
Just though you’d like the full explanation.
Well, I have now been cured of wanting to visit foreign lands.
Ghosts, only one. My friends father had passed away from leukemia about half a year earlier. Was going up to my friends cabin to go hunting with him early about twilight when I looked over and saw a figure walking back from the ledge to the cabin. I figured he was ready to get on the trail when I got to the door it was locked. I knocked and he got up from his cot and I asked if he was out on the ledge.He said no dude, I’m still half drunk and you just woke me. Oh let me not forget the good part. There was snow on the ground and no foot prints.Its a beautiful spot where you can see for a hundred miles. I guess his father was still enjoing the view.
Where the hell is Charlie West!?!?!?!?!
Speaking of ghosts – I saw Robert C. Byrd walk past me one time. He looked very life-like. Scared the shit out of me.
Rusty, you should go overseas. My trips to the Pacific rim made me respect and appreciate the freedoms and luxuries we have here in America. But also, I think they should round up all those CEOs and CFOs of the failed banks and Wall Street and ship them to a third world country like Sudan or Ethiopia. If they can survive there with nothing for 5 years than they can return to America as a normal citizen but they will have to start all over again at the bottom as mailroom clerks.
Great idea, Shiny Rod! :o) Hope you had a good birthday, btw.
Back home in West Virginia we had a fire in the bathroom once. Fortunately it didn’t spread to the house.
Yep, that’s a very typical (at least older) european-style toilet – usually paired with a bidet (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bidet). I encountered my first one in Germany upon arriving at our first hotel during a trip I took in high school. Needless to say, many chuckles and concerned looks went along with that experience. 🙂
When in Paris for two weeks, we’d buy beer at the supermarket, bring it back to the hotel, and cool it down in the bidet.
I work for a company with a manufacturing plant in Shenzen, China. I was thrilled last year when I was invited to come to the factory for a tour and annual meeting… no one bothered to warn me about the “toilets”. My first experiences with the toilets were fairly normal, besides the flushers being a button in a strange place, they were what I would consider to be normal – seat, bowl, toilet paper, and flusher.
Our excited hosts took us enexpecting americans one night to a “massage parlor” which was the most firghtening experience of my life. I’m pointed toward a room and given an outfit to put on and a weird little cup of hot brown liquid that I promptly declined – all of this from a tiny little woman that spoke not a word of english, and I not a word of chinese… She literally had to act out every motion from laying on the FULL SIZE bed (not a massage table as I am accustomed to – this place was a full blown brothel) then she proceeded to stand on my back and and pull my legs up as far as she could – not understanding my pleas and begging her not to do this, not understanding the phrase “I have 4 herniated disks in my back and you are potentially causing permanent damage”.
This was the most terrifying experience of my life, until… until the 2 hour massage from hell had ended, while I laid there enduring the torture I can only imagine is reserved for POWs in war-torn countries, laying there for an ungodly length of time, imagining that my hosts and coworkers had long been finished, forgotten about me and were all snuggled up in their hotel room beds, while I would spend the rest of the night attempting to find my way back home. Mind you, I am about as american looking as they come – tall, blond hair, big boobs… I may as well have had an american flag draped around my body – there was no chance of blending in. I only know one word in Chinese and come to think of it, I’m pretty sure moshi mosh is in fact japanese.
Anyway, I’m confused and terrified and all alone, and my bladder is at full capacity. Thank god there is a universal symbol for women’s restrooms, and in my post massage pain and blurred vision from 2 hours of wincing and tears clouding my contact lenses – I saw the beautiful symbol off in the distance.
I made a mad dash for the toilets and this is when the fear that had built up and put me just minutes from full blown panic completely vanished and gave way to a new fear. A “what the fuck is that?” kind of fear. It was just like your Ukraine toilet picture, only not nearly as clean and with the obvious signs that others were unsure of how to use it as well and had missed the hole on a number of visits…
I’ve never been good at squatting. I was on a work trip and was wearing heels and dress pants. Heels are not conducive to squatting, especially for someone that has a hard time balancing in them while just standing upright. I was frozen with a whole new breed of fear. I was afraid to touch anything and I had never seen such a sight. I quickly contemplated my options, but knew that even if my coworkers hadn’t left me there, I was still in for about an hour long bus ride through potholes that I’m sure have swallowed up more than a few chinese citizens on bikes or in small cars.
I had no choice but to figure this thing out. I slipped off my right shoe, slid my pants and underwear off of my right leg and put my right shoe back on so as to not have any skin come in contact with any surfaces within my stall of disease. I repeated the process on my left leg and was now standing naked from the waist down with the exception of my quivering feet inside my heels.
I squatted down as far as I could. In fact I’m sure that if anyone had been unfortunate enough to walk in at this point, they’d have gotten a full view of all my naughty bits on display from under the stall door.
I’ve never forced a pee out as quickly or as forcefully as I did that day. And, to my utter dismay, there was a bit of splash-back. No way was I going to even attempt a squatting international poop. Foreign poops are hard enough for me to accomplish under normal circumstances. My colon prefers being at the home base.
Repeat the process above in reverse and I was done and ready to go, with only a few little spots of my own urine on my legs and my dignity left in that dark little hole. By the way, they don’t use toilet paper in Shenzen, apparently because not a single bathroom I used that week came equipped. I had learned to stuff my purse with napkins
When I got back to the hotel and cleaned up, I did a little online research. Apparently, there is no flushing system, only a giant basin under the holes that eventually leads to a crude sewer system under the city. I also read that it is quite common for dirty little men to make their way into the basin and look up through the holes at women doing their business. Thank god I didn’t know that before.
Wow. Best story ever.