Call that snow? We get threatened with a couple of centimetres, which is far worse than yours. We aren’t allowed to go out, in case of severe death. Our shops run out of supplies as we never know when we’ll eat again. That is snow.
But come on. You must have tried it at least once. How high can you go? Or is that just me in my misspent childhood?
These posts remind me of a 'dangerous sport' that I participated in when I was young chap. Imagine, if you will, the gentlemen's toilet in The Prince of Wales pub on Abbey Hey Lane in Gorton - you walk into the room and you're facing the urinal which is a continuous trough that runs along all of the wall in front of you, turns at the corner and runs along half of the wall to your right. The flushing method for this trough is via a pipe which is suspended above the trough and also turns the corner along the shorter part of the trough to the right. The water feeds down into this pipe from a cistern which is at the very left corner of the long wall facing you. Right - have you got this pictured in your mind? When the urinal automatically flushes, the water comes down from the cistern, into the pipe and shoots out through holes in the bottom of the pipe, starting directly below the cistern and, as the pipe fills, the holes start to rain down from left to right and then around the corner to your right, finally ending where the pipe ends with a stopper. Well - somebody decided to remove the stopper from the end of the pipe at the very end of the run. Somebody else determined that it was possible (usually when full of Chester's Bitter) to wee up the open end of the pipe so that your wee came out through the flushing holes in the bottom of the pipe! The challenge was to see how far along the pipe you could get your wee to go - you were starting at the end of the short part of the 'L' on the right wall. Some masters of the craft could get their wee to go around the ninety degree bend and onto the long wall that you faced as you entered the room. There were marks along that long wall with names appended to show the achievements of the various experts at this sport. I said 'dangerous'. The danger here - aside from the obvious perils involved in regularly attending a pub in Gorton - was the automatic flush! The more successful you were at this challenge and the further along the pipe you could make your wee go, the less warning you had when the toilet automatically flushed! You had less warning to get out of the way before the pressure of the water cascading out of the cistern forced your own wee back along the pipe and shot it out with great force all over your trousers! I must say at this point that I participated in this twice, never reached the point where my name was recorded on the wall for posterity, never fell-foul of the automatic flush and stopped completely when I witnessed a customer walking shamefacedly out of the gents with a massive wet stain all over the front of his trues and the odour of his own piss following behind him like a squirrel's tail!. I just though I'd share that with you. In my defence, it was you lot that started talking about peeing - not me! Cheers, Jeff
Given the lavatorial turn things have taken, I've always found this one amusing. When my late father was an Engine Room Apprentice in his 'teens, there was in one of the dockyards a set of lavatory cubicles with a common flush: basically, a constant stream of water flowing along under a row of thrones. Apparently a great trick was to get a lump of cotton waste; anoint it with a little diesel fuel; and drop it down the first loo. Cue many squeals as those downstream got their arses singed. Health and safety at work, eh? Who needs it? Cheers, R.
Came off the bike when I hit some black ice this morning. Thankfully I was on a greenway, not the road and no real damage done.
Bright, sunny, blue sky -- and about 7 degrees. Forecast until New Year's Eve: maxima 10 degrees +/- 4 degrees Cheers, R.
It's 9 degrees here at present but the wind is gusting to 50mph so windchill in effect! Brr! Nice forecast for you!
