A couple of weeks ago my local leisure centre (my YMCA, run by the city) embarked upon some much-needed paint work. For some reason, while they were painting the ladies' changing room, they swapped us into the men's room. (Ben suspects it was because women might actually mind if we get paint on our clothes.) This was a little confusing for everyone, but we shuffled into each other's facilities and continued as usual.
This gave me an interesting opportunity to get a good whiff of the men's changing room.
It Smells Of Wee.
I went from changing-stall to changing-stall to try and find one that didn't smell like a diaper, but there wasn't one. They all smelled of stale urine. Cloyingly so. Thickly, disgustingly so. I didn't want to take my shoes off for fear I'd step in a puddle. It made my eyes red and my lunch try to escape.
I feel I should mention that the only unpleasant odour I tend to find in the ladies' room is mild dirty feet, but it is kept clean and people track pool water in there so it mostly smells of chlorine. The men's changing room backs onto the pool too, but any smell of pool chemicals is completely masked by the gag-inducing stench of piss.
I've had to use men's restrooms before, due to crowding, cleaning, plumbing, and my own impatience. I'm no stranger to the stink-wall, but I had no idea it extended to Every place reserved for exclusive use by men. This is a changing room. A big one--certainly a bigger floorspace than my entire house, with 20' ceilings and plenty of ventilation. It does have showers, and a restroom off to one side--with a clear separate entrance. There's no excuse for men to wee in the changing stalls.
The leisure centre's rules are pretty relaxed on boys changing in the ladies' room with their mothers. Boys under age 10 are generally let in, and most of the time I don't mind. They're noisy, but they're not nosy, and while they do hog the showers for hours on end they do not stink the place up. While I of course can't vouch for the behaviour of children who change with their fathers, boys in the girls' room aren't really a problem.
Except.
Except now that the changing rooms have swapped back, the ladies' room smells like pee. All of the stalls have a slight musk to them, as though a tramp slept in each one in turn a few months ago. While it's not nearly as bad as the gents', I'm disgusted and feel a bit violated.
OUR CHANGING ROOM. OUR RULES. NO PEE ON THE FLOOR.
Come On Males, it's the 21st century. There's no excuse to mark your territory like this any more--you do that with lease agreements and fiscal exchange. You stand erect and have a fairly smooth brow. I know you all can't help the body hair issue, but that is not an indication that you should behave like lemurs. Your woman will be attracted to you even if you don't scent your tail and wave it at her--indeed, she'll probably be More attracted to you if you don't. Is this like the "money shot" thing? Why do you need to demonstrate your dominance over people or ownership of things by coating them with your DNA? Why does this dominance always have something to do with penises?
It is time for men to evolutionarily catch up to women. Because frankly...eew.
Showing posts with label asinine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label asinine. Show all posts
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Friday, May 07, 2010
comment moderation: oh
Wow. I just found a 3-month long queue of comments waiting to be moderated. I may have forgotten I turned it on. And here I was thinking nobody read my blog or loved me. Whoops.
Thanks for the helpful tips regarding the garden: what I've been doing so far is starting seedlings in my study under a big skylight, then putting them outside when I (hope) think that they're big enough to fend for themselves. I've got several tomatoes and aubergines out in the ground, and so far I haven't exactly murdered anything.
Since the beginning of April I've noticed that the sun was reaching the ground over the fence in the morning and has been staying there at least half of the day. We had a good two weeks of warmth and sunshine in the middle of the month (I went out without a jacket one day!) and, hopeful and excited, I put a bunch of plants out. As of this past weekend, however, it's returned to early March conditions--cold, cloudy, and bleurgh--and the more delicate plants got a bit of a shock. I went out and apologised with tomato fertilizer and stakes and they're perking up a little.
I've been chasing caterpillars and snails away from my edible leaves--Lisa, I had no idea how much of a blight they are until I started gardening in this climate! Guh-Ross. At least snails come with handles. I've been keeping the concrete around my potted plants unappealingly salty and it seems to be keeping them at bay. I don't know if that's a tested method or not. Any recommendations for keeping munching bugs away? I don't have much money for fancy nets, chemicals, or laser beams, and want to be sure my spinach will still be edible for humans.
My soil is fairly penetrable for roots and spades and is pretty wormy, so I think the kids will be able to spread out and get comfortable. I have a beautiful burst of bluebells in bloom, but the minute their show ends I intend to pull them and leave more room for growth. They spread like wildfire and I'm sure I won't catch them all, so I'm not hugely bothered about preventing their performance next year.
The potato plants are huge. I should probably look and see what to do with them soon. They seem very happy both in their gro-bag and the ground, and seem to be about an inch taller and leafier every few minutes. No flowers yet, but awesome.
I've started some cilantro and basil in the study. My mom said she'll be impressed if I can get basil to succeed from seed. I'm not sure what will make it difficult, but they look like they're working hard at getting bigger. Aww.
----
I'm glad you don't remember the ring going missing. We tried to remain calm. I eventually found it in its little box, in its little muslin bag, in a black bodega bag filled mostly with crumpled receipts and snipped pricetags at the end of mom's bed. (Ben and Ben turned the house inside-out looking for it. Amusingly mine went up to the game room in search of it and found uncle Chet, hat-over-eyes, hiding out. He lifted the hat, asked, "what's gone wrong now?" and, informed of the ring, neatly replaced it.)
----
I've gone through the house and filled every mouse-sized hole and gap I've been able to find and cleaned up the poop. There's one area in the back of the closet-under-the-stairs where the floorboards miss the wall by about two inches all the way across, and i've been unsuccessful in my attempts to cover it, so I resorted to traps, and eventually poison--I don't think I've killed any (these mice have been around this house longer than I have and have defeated other occupants) but I think it may serve as an un-welcome-mat.
----
School has been insane. I'm not entirely sure what I'm studying anymore. I want to hide. More specifically, I want to hide in a prop shop and spend a month making fake trees and breakaway furniture and try to think about what I want out of my education.
----
Ben makes good corn bread...for a limey.
Thanks for the helpful tips regarding the garden: what I've been doing so far is starting seedlings in my study under a big skylight, then putting them outside when I (hope) think that they're big enough to fend for themselves. I've got several tomatoes and aubergines out in the ground, and so far I haven't exactly murdered anything.
Since the beginning of April I've noticed that the sun was reaching the ground over the fence in the morning and has been staying there at least half of the day. We had a good two weeks of warmth and sunshine in the middle of the month (I went out without a jacket one day!) and, hopeful and excited, I put a bunch of plants out. As of this past weekend, however, it's returned to early March conditions--cold, cloudy, and bleurgh--and the more delicate plants got a bit of a shock. I went out and apologised with tomato fertilizer and stakes and they're perking up a little.
I've been chasing caterpillars and snails away from my edible leaves--Lisa, I had no idea how much of a blight they are until I started gardening in this climate! Guh-Ross. At least snails come with handles. I've been keeping the concrete around my potted plants unappealingly salty and it seems to be keeping them at bay. I don't know if that's a tested method or not. Any recommendations for keeping munching bugs away? I don't have much money for fancy nets, chemicals, or laser beams, and want to be sure my spinach will still be edible for humans.
My soil is fairly penetrable for roots and spades and is pretty wormy, so I think the kids will be able to spread out and get comfortable. I have a beautiful burst of bluebells in bloom, but the minute their show ends I intend to pull them and leave more room for growth. They spread like wildfire and I'm sure I won't catch them all, so I'm not hugely bothered about preventing their performance next year.
The potato plants are huge. I should probably look and see what to do with them soon. They seem very happy both in their gro-bag and the ground, and seem to be about an inch taller and leafier every few minutes. No flowers yet, but awesome.
I've started some cilantro and basil in the study. My mom said she'll be impressed if I can get basil to succeed from seed. I'm not sure what will make it difficult, but they look like they're working hard at getting bigger. Aww.
----
I'm glad you don't remember the ring going missing. We tried to remain calm. I eventually found it in its little box, in its little muslin bag, in a black bodega bag filled mostly with crumpled receipts and snipped pricetags at the end of mom's bed. (Ben and Ben turned the house inside-out looking for it. Amusingly mine went up to the game room in search of it and found uncle Chet, hat-over-eyes, hiding out. He lifted the hat, asked, "what's gone wrong now?" and, informed of the ring, neatly replaced it.)
----
I've gone through the house and filled every mouse-sized hole and gap I've been able to find and cleaned up the poop. There's one area in the back of the closet-under-the-stairs where the floorboards miss the wall by about two inches all the way across, and i've been unsuccessful in my attempts to cover it, so I resorted to traps, and eventually poison--I don't think I've killed any (these mice have been around this house longer than I have and have defeated other occupants) but I think it may serve as an un-welcome-mat.
----
School has been insane. I'm not entirely sure what I'm studying anymore. I want to hide. More specifically, I want to hide in a prop shop and spend a month making fake trees and breakaway furniture and try to think about what I want out of my education.
----
Ben makes good corn bread...for a limey.
Thursday, February 04, 2010
Glass Attacks and Slippery Junk Mail
I just watched a short video on the Beeb regarding a product development firm who had been commissioned by the Home Office to invent shatter-proof pint glasses for pubs. The video included a brief demonstration of how they work and sounded like a genuine effort to improve safety when glasses are inadvertently dropped.
Then the 'related videos' menu started rolling, and I saw a quick glimpse into just how many news reports had been done recently about people getting attacked with broken glass in pub fights. Dozens.
It just goes to remind me. Brits may not have guns, but they're just as freaking violent as anyone else, they just don't have access to clean, purpose-built weapons. They stab, maul, batter, and smash their foes and victims with whatever they have on hand--glass, kitchen gadgets, paving slabs, the occasional car--which means they may have lower rates of specific "gun crime" and "knife crime" but just as much "violent crime" as anyone anywhere else.
----
I'm trying to make an effective sign to put on my letterbox (hole in the door, not mailbox) that will actually cause leafleters, menu distributors, charity bag shovers, "charity" bag shovers, and all the other garbage pushers actually stop, notice, and not put crap through my door that I slip on and hurt myself when I come home. "Royal Mail Only, all others use side door" (we don't have a side door) seems insulting enough that I might actually get even more junk on the floor. "NO" is a bit too blunt and may put off the postman. "If It Doesn't Have My Name On It, It Doesn't Go Here" is too wordy, and I'm sure leafleters are in too much of a hurry, are too illiterate, or are too arrogant to heed it. I've tripped slipped, and skidded on junk mail so much I'm getting the pelvis of a 90 year old woman.
That's the thing--if it was a mailbox I probably wouldn't care so much. But they don't do that here. The "letterbox" is a 1"x6" window into your house. Every time someone rattles the gate and shoves his "People are Starving in Africa--won't you give us your old clothes?" packet through the flap I feel a little more violated.
The problem is, menu-stuffing kids aside (who are utterly heedless of people's requests), most people who cram unsolicited crap through the door seem to think they're doing a good deed. Raising awareness, and all that rot. This stuff doesn't come in the postman's bundle--people go around distributing garbage one at a time. I've come home to ten or twelve items of spam on my floor per day.
I feel they all need to be addressed separately, so as to ensure that everyone knows, pointedly, that their solicitation is not "the good kind."
"This newsletter from the Labour party will keep you informed as to what we're doing to improve your area." (Sign: Foreigner Lives Here. Cannot Vote. Don't Waste Your Time.)
"Did you know that 1/3 of all deaths are from cardiovascular related diseases? Your small donation will help us save the world!" (Sign: Student Lives Here. Broke. And "Old Age" Is Considered a Cardiovascular Disease. Don't Waste Your Time.)
"Your street's home prices are on the rise! Have you been thinking of selling? Our real estate agency would love to appraise your property!" (Sign: Renters. Owners Live Overseas. And Do the Words "Fixer-Upper" Mean Anything to You? Don't Waste Your Time.)
"Jesus Jesus Jesus! Jesus Jesus! Jesus Jesus JEEEEEESUS (money) JESUS!" (Sign: We actually use Hellfire to power our boiler, and we stock it with this sort of pamphlet. You're just encouraging Satan's influence on this street. Have you no morals?)
"Please put your unwanted items in this bag and we'll ensure that they're collected and sold, at whatever price we deem valid, to whoever will buy, whether or not we're a registered charity." (Sign: I Have No More or Less Unwanted Stuff than Last Time I Tripped on One of These. Do You Think I Buy Shoes and Tire Of Them Weekly? You're A Moron And This Is Either a Profiteering Scheme or a Plain Scam. Fuck Off, Tripping Hazard Shover. If You Think You're Doing A Good Deed Working For This Company, Perhaps You Should Read Your Mission Statement.)
Then the 'related videos' menu started rolling, and I saw a quick glimpse into just how many news reports had been done recently about people getting attacked with broken glass in pub fights. Dozens.
It just goes to remind me. Brits may not have guns, but they're just as freaking violent as anyone else, they just don't have access to clean, purpose-built weapons. They stab, maul, batter, and smash their foes and victims with whatever they have on hand--glass, kitchen gadgets, paving slabs, the occasional car--which means they may have lower rates of specific "gun crime" and "knife crime" but just as much "violent crime" as anyone anywhere else.
----
I'm trying to make an effective sign to put on my letterbox (hole in the door, not mailbox) that will actually cause leafleters, menu distributors, charity bag shovers, "charity" bag shovers, and all the other garbage pushers actually stop, notice, and not put crap through my door that I slip on and hurt myself when I come home. "Royal Mail Only, all others use side door" (we don't have a side door) seems insulting enough that I might actually get even more junk on the floor. "NO" is a bit too blunt and may put off the postman. "If It Doesn't Have My Name On It, It Doesn't Go Here" is too wordy, and I'm sure leafleters are in too much of a hurry, are too illiterate, or are too arrogant to heed it. I've tripped slipped, and skidded on junk mail so much I'm getting the pelvis of a 90 year old woman.
That's the thing--if it was a mailbox I probably wouldn't care so much. But they don't do that here. The "letterbox" is a 1"x6" window into your house. Every time someone rattles the gate and shoves his "People are Starving in Africa--won't you give us your old clothes?" packet through the flap I feel a little more violated.
The problem is, menu-stuffing kids aside (who are utterly heedless of people's requests), most people who cram unsolicited crap through the door seem to think they're doing a good deed. Raising awareness, and all that rot. This stuff doesn't come in the postman's bundle--people go around distributing garbage one at a time. I've come home to ten or twelve items of spam on my floor per day.
I feel they all need to be addressed separately, so as to ensure that everyone knows, pointedly, that their solicitation is not "the good kind."
"This newsletter from the Labour party will keep you informed as to what we're doing to improve your area." (Sign: Foreigner Lives Here. Cannot Vote. Don't Waste Your Time.)
"Did you know that 1/3 of all deaths are from cardiovascular related diseases? Your small donation will help us save the world!" (Sign: Student Lives Here. Broke. And "Old Age" Is Considered a Cardiovascular Disease. Don't Waste Your Time.)
"Your street's home prices are on the rise! Have you been thinking of selling? Our real estate agency would love to appraise your property!" (Sign: Renters. Owners Live Overseas. And Do the Words "Fixer-Upper" Mean Anything to You? Don't Waste Your Time.)
"Jesus Jesus Jesus! Jesus Jesus! Jesus Jesus JEEEEEESUS (money) JESUS!" (Sign: We actually use Hellfire to power our boiler, and we stock it with this sort of pamphlet. You're just encouraging Satan's influence on this street. Have you no morals?)
"Please put your unwanted items in this bag and we'll ensure that they're collected and sold, at whatever price we deem valid, to whoever will buy, whether or not we're a registered charity." (Sign: I Have No More or Less Unwanted Stuff than Last Time I Tripped on One of These. Do You Think I Buy Shoes and Tire Of Them Weekly? You're A Moron And This Is Either a Profiteering Scheme or a Plain Scam. Fuck Off, Tripping Hazard Shover. If You Think You're Doing A Good Deed Working For This Company, Perhaps You Should Read Your Mission Statement.)
Friday, January 08, 2010
idle musing of the hour
How do you like your coffee? _____: like I like my men.
Potential answers: rich, tall, smooth, black, hot, dark, white, Colombian, Irish, Mexican, Ethiopian, strong, effective... "Iced" has no place in this list unless you're a professional widow, so "iced" is not an appropriate way to have your coffee. This goes too for bitter, gritty, weak, tepid, and artificially-sweetened.
Potential answers: rich, tall, smooth, black, hot, dark, white, Colombian, Irish, Mexican, Ethiopian, strong, effective... "Iced" has no place in this list unless you're a professional widow, so "iced" is not an appropriate way to have your coffee. This goes too for bitter, gritty, weak, tepid, and artificially-sweetened.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
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