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Conversations from a pub loo

May 26, 2002 ~ 11:34 p.m.

In one of the pubs that I sometimes frequent, there is a toilet stall located around the bend from the urinals, so that it is sometimes easy to miss it entirely. God only knows how you�re supposed to know it�s there when you�re pie-eyed. You think they�d have it right by the entrance door with a sign announcing, �Need to Puke? Toilet Here!� But anyway, it especially comes in handy when the unsuspecting guy or two comes in and starts waxing philosophical while standing at the urinals, not missing out on any of the grand details. And, as I sat on my throne, this was the conversation to which I was treated:

Men enter, sound of flies unzipping and tinkling

�Hey, how�s the butt plug?�

�Vibrates all the harder with you around.�

�Ph-woah-er!�

A few more seconds of tinkling, then:

�And how�s the wife?�

�Like you wouldn�t already know, mate.�

�Oh � yeh?�

�Oh don�t deny it, mate. Wasn�t that your arse I saw sneaking around the door when I came in the other night?�

�OK, mate. It was the best fuck she�s had in years. She told me so.�

Insert sound of loud fart here

�Heh. I thought she�d totally forgot what it�s like.�

�That�s why you need me around, mate. Phaaw! Seriously, �ow is she?�

�Eh, you know � bitch, bitch, bitch as always. Never bloody changes.�

�Mmmm��

Tinkling ends, flies zip back up. Third man enters, another fly unzips, then:

�Jim! You fookin� wanker!�

�Piss off!�

�Piss on you more like, �ey, c�mere ��

�Gerrout!�

More tinkling, another fart

�So, you place that bet at William Hill yet?�

�Yeah.�

�And what�re the odds?�

�About as good as me giving you a blowjob, mate.�

�Ph-whoa-er!�

* * * * *

Yep, the finer discussions of life and the universe can be found at your local pub�s gents room. Don�t delay. Better than a university education and more fun too. Just make sure you know where the toilets are.

� M.E.M.

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