That song about “having nothing to hide” is playing somewhere. What a great song. I could sit here all night and listen to it… just key changed – fantastic.
I think all this humidity has fried my brain.
I filmed some stuff at a cemetery today. I thought we’d get told off but we didn’t.
A friend bought me some Doritos, Tiny Teddies, chocolate and a big bottle of lemon, lime and bitters. Lucky me.
Another friend played the recorder and it sounded a bit like this.
Been a while since a review. On a tight scheule here, so off we go.
Spacious, well lit and very privatised. What more could you ask from a dunny in terms of usability?
Seat is clean and the perfect temperature – likely a result of the sunlight coming through nearby window. Well done.
Simple but effective design. Brown floor tiles, white wall tiles. Window is a huge plus: offering a lovely view and natural lighting but also positioned so people can’t see you doing a dookie. Floor space slightly littered.
Second toilet review going strong.
Feng Shui: 8.5/10
Fletch pioneers great toilet functionality and decor.
In the whole time I’ve been blogging on Potty Mouth, my phone’s never been rung whilst on the loo. I think that’s pretty amazing.
Actually, the one time the phone did ring was when I used my girlfriend’s. How is it that the one time I use her phone, it gets rung but mine doesn’t? It’s as if my friends and family know I’ve got important blogging matters to attend to.
Speaking of blogging matters, there are some awful blogs out there. My friends and I have just spent the past half hour flabbergasted by how unoriginal and underwhelming one particular blogger’s efforts were. I know that my blog would leave a lot to be desired in the minds of many but at least I try to be a little unpredictable and more three-dimensional. Sheesh.
As the days drag on, my posts are getting worse and worse. Gone are the days of positive feedback – I blog purely for the sake of sitting on the toilet now.
I feel the end is truly nigh for Potty Mouth. I started this blog for the sake of getting more confident in writing for online audiences and I feel as though I’ve achieved this. My blog doesn’t really serve a purpose beyond that.
My girlfriend and Zoe just came into the bathroom. They would like to inform you that my poo does not smell like rainbows.
Gees, I’m coming up on 100 posts. Such a momentous occasion calls for a special edition post but I’ve been caught completely off guard. Also, how is that it’s nearly midnight, there’s next to no one on the corridor and yet someone’s brushing their teeth as I write? Nupi always seems to follow me into the bathroom and tonight is no exception.
She’s gone! The serenity! Love you Nupi but the splash is a very private moment between a man and his poo.
Anyway, back to the 100th post: what am I to do? Haven’t done a review in a while but it would have to be a pretty epic review for such an event. No, I need something more and I’m open to suggestions: you decide. If you’re one of the few souls who actually click on the SERF to get to my post, then my fate rests with you: what will be the 100th post?
So it turns out I survived my birthday party. The speeches were fantastic and were only a little embarrassing in the grand scheme of things. One thing I did take away from a part of the speech is that it is quite likely that Potty Mouth has very little appeal to my audience (the quote in the post title framing a sentiment of one particular speechmaker).
So am I going to stop posting? Nah. This stuff might be mindless garbage that practically no one’s interested in, but it’s probably the most productive thing I can do on the dunny. And if just one person reads a post everyday, I know I’m making a difference in some sort of insignificant and really weird way.
A strange man once wrote: “Poo often and post plenty”. That man was me.
Tonight is my 21st birthday party. To be completely honest, I’m absolutely terrified. I’m not terrified that people won’t have a good time, I’m not terrified that the party will end in some tragedy due to a rogue marquee. I am terrified because I must endure the obligatory 21st birthday party speeches.
As this blog makes pretty clear, I’m a fairly open guy and this translates to pretty much all aspects of my life. I’m not afraid to be downright silly at times because I don’t get too phased by what others think of me.
But gees, do my friends have some dirt on me.
There’s some things you don’t want your parents to hear/see. I’m pretty sure they know just about every embarrassing detail of my life, but I’m willing to bet I’ve overlooked some major incident that will rear its ugly head come nightfall. If I never post again, it’s because I’m dead. My mum killed me.