NoshBar's Dumping Ground




Bathrooms. Oh my.

Bathrooms are awesome. Not one is the same, even if they’re cloned in a factory, after just one day of use, they’re a unique snowflake (containing the same decaying matter as the others).

Much like next-to-a-dustbin being the safest place to stand to be free of cigarette smoke, the inside of a toilet bowl must be the furthest place away from urine in public bathrooms.
If it’s not acting as lubricant on the perhaps-present seat cover, it’s all over the floor making sure it’s free of insects and snakes (and who doesn’t like stomping in puddles and splashing stuff at people, giggling with glee?).

While the water in the toilet might be urine-free, you can almost be guaranteed that it will be filled with a squirrel-sized poo, warmly snuggled in its entire-forest toilet-paper nest, waiting for the eggs to hatch. Sometimes you may even be lucky enough to spot one of the parents sitting on the maybe-there toilet seat, keeping watch, defending the hive (which is essential, as screw-holes in the stall walls remain as the only hint that locks, or entire doors themselves, once lived there).

Mostly they’re still sitting there staring back at you because the toilet no longer flushes, through malfunction or fear of having to touch the creations in the bowl. But mostly there are those that constantly flush, sending the squirrel-family into a frenzied tumbling, as if they were squirrel-alligators wrestling for territory, in the midst of a death-roll fight. And being continuously emptied, those toilets never have the pressure behind them to send the fight outside, and reunite the squirrel family deep under the sea (if only flushing handles weren’t made of lead).

Like the toilets, the taps seem to be plumbed into the same supply of water in PlentyLand. This however, is a good thing, as the last thing you want to do is touch the oddly-non-reflective chrome handles.

The soap-dispenser handles are safe though, as no one uses soap, they just run water so that it looks like they’re washing their hands, because no one wants to look like they’re a pig, and using soap is basically like coming out to your parents. However, sometimes a piggy must get angry that the soap is judging them, resulting in a battered, drooping hanging piece of pity that remains where the dispenser once was, bleeding down over and past the sink, mixing with the pee on the floor, screaming “whyyy?” the whole way down.

The hand-dryers always state that they’re the hygenic method of drying your hands, which not only sounds like some sort of government conspiracy, but it’s not eco-friendly, all that electricity usage, and you really care about the environment, so you use the paper towels.
They also make great little balls that you can use to practice shooting hoop with, every time a reminder of why you’re not in a team somewhere.

Man, people are awesome.

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