Nothing particularly exciting happened today so I’ll write about water closets. Known as loos on this side of the pond, these are much more than a place to relieve yourself. The British approach to water closets differs from the American bathroom design much as our spins on society. In a clear exertion of government distrust of citizens, the Brits’ urinals flush themselves. This left-wing approach is a driving on the other side of the road kind of issue: it’s different but not necessarily better than America’s rightist, high-volume, self-controlled system of pulling your own handle. Like England’s abundance of cameras on the streets, many Londoners sacrifice privacy for efficiency: a lot of the urinals are communal, with one long trough instead of the U.S.’s private stalls. This may be an area in which the U. S. lags: much to easy with our excessive privatization to end up with an unflushed urinal. However, the Brits definitely cross the line when it comes to drying my hands: the U. S. respects the right to use a little recyclable paper instead of subjecting citizens to the humiliation of hot-air hand drying. This is just as bad of an idea as having a monarchy: everyone knows that both are just a waste of space and money. By the way, I’m a bathroom outlaw: I’d rather sneak into bathrooms than pay 20 pence to use the loos. With their licensing charges for TVs, high tax rates, but most of all through the attempts at pee fees, it’s no wonder we rebelled: isn’t it a basic human right to own 7 televisions without the government knowing about it and to pee for free?
Well, I’ve had enough of rhyming words with pee and don’t have any more synonyms for bathroom. My apologies you suffered through such a strange writing; apparently I’m no John Locke. Sometimes, you just need to be really weird to the point of writing about washrooms. Wash your hands.