There is a rather popliar chain of florists called InterFlora. Now, normally these bods deal with infidelious husbands trying to ease their guilt through the purchasement of lovely scented flowers.
It now looks like they're branching out - only the smell isn't so sweet! Not so much a bouquet, as a bucket of slops! The newest brand in the 'chain' is InterFlush!
All our office dump stations have been rebranded, and it's a nightmare to get used to. So, normally in a lavatory you grab the handle and give it a good old tug, releasing a gushing stream of fluid. Then you flush (boom boom!). Ah! Not so with these new fangled removal techniques!
In order to 'save water', you now have to press the lever 'for as long as needed' - which means most people simply press down and walk away. Out of habit, you press & release, then realise you have to keep the lever depressed. But you can't reflush coz the cistern's filling up. So you wait, and keep flushing in spurts, and you get paranoid that people are outside wondering wha yer up to!
Mind you, office toilets need much more water to cater for the bizarre lavatorial habits of some neanderthals. Surely they can't leave their home bogs in such a state! It gives you a glimpse into the mindset of some people - and you have to wonder who they are! It's not nice to be greeted by the fecal foibles of co-workers!
For instance, there's The Wallpaperer. This person leaves the bowl lined with paper. Not just covering the water to prevent splashback, or the embarassing SPLAT as the shit hits the pan. No, this person leaves every inch of the bowl lined with bumwipe, right up to the rim, as if making a papier mache bogbowl, with a dogs' egg centrepiece.
Then you have The Rapper. This person often leaves a present in the bowl. Clearly obsessed with presentation, their doings are left in a perfectly square (or rectangular) package of loo roll, floating like a wedding cake in a lake.
Then there's the Crusty Crack. The one who leaves an unflushed monster blocking the pan - but clearly hasn't wiped.
Nearing the bottom (literally) is Jackson. Pebble dashing the bowl like a right pollock.
And finally, there's the Ellens - the DeGenerates who for some reason can't quite manage to get their arse in the right place. Honestly - how is is possible to miss a huge great pan? Projectile poo seems to be the order of the day for these people!
And don't get me started on The Snotmeister! That evil git who, whilst dropping the kids off at the pool, passes the time by extracting his nasal contents and applying them liberally to the wall!
All that, but ne'er a floater!
I can't help but wonder if women have the same toiletry terrorists, or if it's just men?
