Five Star Toilet
Rating
by Stephen Philip Druce
The bleach
overkill in the pub toilet was comforting. There
is nothing more refreshing than the subtle aroma
of nuclear bomb blast sodium hypochlorite - a
toxic poison chemical that caused me to cough so
hard I blew my asshole out - nice touch.
Luckily for me
it was karaoke night. Tone deaf novices
encouraged to sing songs they don't know the
words to - smart idea. Why book a professional
singer when you can listen to the vocal prowess
of pub locals 'Fat Head Teddy Belly Ass Shithouse'
(not a tenor singer, but a fine product of incest),
'Olive Slop Tit Sewerage Scum Splat' (not a
soprano singer as yet, but recognised for having
a body piercing in the asshole division), 'Billy
Splodge Dozy Dick Bollocks' (not quite a baritone
singer, but renowned for snorting the obscure
class A drug - Mr. Muscle oven cleaning fluid),
and 'Gertrude Scabby Ass Dung Heap Swill' (not a
contralto singer as such, but noted
internationally for molesting cartoons with
sardines).
Pop in to 'The
Dead Stoat' - you'll have fun. If you don't want
to hear the singers you can always stuff your
ears with pork scratchings - they won't look out
of place there. Some pork scratchings have hairs
on them.
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