...don't wanna shit yer kecks
Whoa-ho-ho
Defecation's what ya need
If you wanna be a record beaker
Yeahhhhh......
They say it's pleasure you can't measure.
Well, someone certainly thought so! In La Toilette l'Office there is almost always a scattering of bog roll about the floor, due to the inexplicable dispensers that only allow teeny scraps of paper to be torn from the base of the unit.
And amidst this lavatorial tickertape parade, there lies an empty Mars Bar wrapper!
Now, who goes to the bog to eat a chocolate bar? To lay a chocolate log, perhaps. Maybe the cuplrit was so desparate for choccie, but their bowels were blocked by brekkie. Drop a bite sized plop, take a bite of Mars to replace it. Another dollop of poo, free room for another chomp.
And so forth.
Makes you wonder - with the poor quality arsewipe, wot if his finger had gone through? How can he be sure he's licking his fingers free of chocolate, and not 'chocolate'? And if he goes in with a Fry's Turkish Delight, and it gets smeared all over his grubby digits, will he think he has a bleedy bum and seek medical attention?
"Doctor, I think me arse is bleeding!"
"Nah, that's just a Turkish Delight"
"That's what the fakir said before rodgering my bum in the baths"
Oh, how we laughed!
