A Khazi Conundrum

A bit off-topic but I've been having a real moral dilemma.

I was shopping in Liverpool a few days ago and needed the toilet (for a number 2) so I had no choice but to use a public toilet.

Having a bit of time to make a decision I opted to pop into John Lewis for that ever-so-slightly-up-market-but-ultimately-just-thinking-I'm-more-upper-class-than-I-actually-am shitting experience.

Being a Saturday the women were queuing round the corner to use the crapper like it was in interval at a stand up comedy night. There were 2 blokes in the men's toilet (what is that all about by the way? Seriously! Why do women feel the need to all go to the toilet at the same time?)

Anyway I make my way into one of two cubicles in the gents toilet, I'm not concerned, this is John Lewis, not some venue on the live music circuit. All the usual refinements are there and so I happily take my rightful place on the throne.

Just as a side note the second thing I become aware of is that this toilet is seriously high. It's one of those "floating" ones that is connected to the wall and not the floor. I'm guessing the fitters got their measurements wrong because I'm a slightly taller than average guy and my feet were almost off the ground. I find this makes for a less effective pooing position. Anyway I digress...

The first thing I notice when my bum hits the seat is that...it's warm.

A quick check satisfies me that the seat is dry (of course it is. I always check and wipe the toilet seat with bog roll on the top and the underneath on every toilet before I sit on it, thems the rules!) but also that it's just a standard toilet seat i.e. It's not one of those fancy "warmed" seats.

Now we get to the crux of the matter.

See the sensation of sitting on a warm toilet seat is not at all unpleasant, but I'm always conflicted because, unless its a fancy warmed seat, the warmth I'm feeling on my ass has more than certainly been produced by the bare arse of another man.

So my question to you all, you blog-roll followers, is this:

Is it right to enjoy the sensation of a toilet seat warmed by the bare arse of another man?

Or am I right in thinking it's just a little bit "Urgh!"?

Scary Shit!

OK, it's not at a gig but I was traveling back from Liverpool on the M40 and popped into a service station for a bit of a pit stop poo.

Usually on the backs of doors in men's toilets you get all kinds of retarded rubbish like "M.U.F.C" and then some comic genius comes along and writes underneath "are shit!". Or you get other bollocks such as "For manly love call big Dave on..." etc.

So imagine my surprise when I shut the door behind me in the cubicle and saw this chilling and thought provoking piece of graffiti:

"One day the world will steal from you the very breath from your aching bones.


And for all your pleas you will never again know friends, family, or the safety of home.


Will your life have been worth living?


Were the choices you made good?


But now, while you're still breathing
Live life as a deadman would."

It's a good job I was sat down on the khazi when I read that or I would have shat meself!

The Shit Kit

Being a rock star singer in a band I don't have a lot of equipment to carry. You know, the guitar players have their guitars and amps and pedal boards etc. I sometimes take my own mic to a gig but mostly I just need to show up and know the lyrics.

So I got to thinking a wee while ago about putting together a "go bag" for every pre-show eventuality. For when the fates conspire against me and dropping the kids off suddenly becomes a health hazard.

Here's my list so far of things I'm thinking about taking with me to a gig to ensure a good pre-show experience:

Cleaning products - Because sometimes a bog just stinks of shit.
Domestos (other bleaches are available)
Toilet duck max strength (again, other brands of toilet cleaner are available, but none of them say "Max Strength"!)
Disinfectant Wipes
Disposable vinyl gloves
Urinal cakes
Air freshener

Hardware - For when replacements are needed
Door lock (bolt style)
Toilet seat
Toilet roll
Toilet roll holder (you gotta keep your paper off the floor)
Door Hooks (for hanging your jackets on, so underrated!)

Small assortment of screws.

General positive and negative drive screwdrivers

Personal hygiene - For after the pre-show
Small soap dispenser
Small alcohol gel
Small packet of tissues

By the way, if anyone knows where I can pick up cheap toilet seats let me know.

The Ham & Blackbird - Farnborough - June

Observations correct at June 2012.

So after explaining to another band member exactly why there was plaster all over the smooth surfaces of the crappers in The Row Barge in Guildford (see previous post) and using it as an example of poor clientele and furthermore how the customers here in Farnborough were less likely to be drug users I was almost immediately surprised to find that sand paper has been stuck to the cisterns of the toilets in the Ham & Blackbird. Boy was my face red! Fortunately I was in trap 2 at that point so no one saw.

Also the sandpaper has been quite successfully peeled off in places by people just desperate to mix their china white with a bit of human faeces. You guys are living the dream by the way!

Anyway, let's take things back to the start.

On entering the toilets I wasn't blown away by their cleanliness, but I also wasn't knocked on my arse by any foul smells.

In front of me were 3 doors and my little heart skipped a beat.

3 cubicles = 3 chances for a good toilet!

Door number 1 on the far right: I confidently push it open. I see toilet paper, a locking door but...Bollocks!...No toilet seat.

Door number 2 on the far left (I know what you're thinking, what's wrong with the middle cubicle, well I don't like them. Maybe I'll write about it in another post. It's an OCD thing): I push the door open and YES! There's a toilet seat, there's even bog roll, I'm already turtle heading at this point so I start undoing my belt whilst shutting the door and FOR GODS SAKE! No lock on the freakin' door.

This is fast turning into my very own Goldilocks adventure.

One more shot, the middle cubicle. Not ideal but any port in a storm and all that.

I go through door 3 and SHIT! Seriously, King Kongs thumb is looking up at me from the murky depths of thunder box three.

I do a quick check whilst swallowing back my dinner...lock - check, toilet paper - check, toilet seat - check. Right, flush that bugger!

Alas! This thing is not only wider than a baby's arm but it's apparently made of cork!!! The bastard won't flush.

It's the perfect fucking storm.

Either:

I squat and do a hover-shit behind door 1 - (I hate doing that. I missed the bowl last time I tried it landing the log on the rim and the time before that I fell over backwards into the bowl)

Or

I sit with a foot holding door 2 shut (again, bad times. The door was just too far from the bowl for it to be a secure venture)

Or

I curl out a cleveland on another mans personal homage to the titanic behind door 3. (I'm only going to say 4 words: Poo Water Splashback Ew!)

Time is running out fast and as I'm already in there it's option 3 for me. I fill the bowl with khazi paper to hide what lies beneath and hopefully prevent a butt splash from landing a side ways torpedo.

I've done all I can. Its time to down trowel.

The sensation is uncomfortable. I feel like I'm in an B movie and I'm about to be pulled into the bowl from beneath me. (I actually saw that in a terrible movie that was set on a cruise ship, if you know the movie I'm on about and what it's called let me know).

After finishing up and wiping my arse I'm suddenly acutely aware that there's a LOT of toilet roll in that bowl along with the monstrosity and my offering. I honestly don't know how this is going to end.

I get myself sorted and then flush.

RUN!!!!

Leaving the cubicle and running to the sink I must admit that I didn't take in if they have hot running water, soap or working hand dryer. All I know is that I washed my hands and left with wet hands lest I stay an witness the creation of a Golgotha from the movie Dogma.

Overall I'm going to have to say I can only give the Ham & Blackbird a 6 out of 10. It would have been a 5 but I felt sorry for the carnage I possibly might have caused.

The Row Barge - Guildford - June

I'm going to kick things off with The Row Barge in Guildford.
N.B. Observations correct for June 2012.

As I enter the men's toilets for the first time it seems clean and doesn't have that four day old piss smell. It looks like we're off to a good start but then my heart sinks a little - there's only 1 toilet cubicle. Whilst not always a bad thing it does lessen the chances of a good toilet in working order.

But wait! What's this?! On entering the cubicle I am pleasantly surprised to find that there's a toilet seat, bog roll and the door locks! A rare hat-trick!

They loose points for lack of hooks though. Fortunately I'm not wearing a coat and I've left my handbag at home tonight so I've got nothing to hang up.

But the next thing I find as I down trouse is that the toilet sits at a jaunty angle listing from its high point on the right hand side to a low ebb on the left - makes for an interesting shit, like downing trowel in the tower of Pisa one suspects.

So as I sit there taking it all in whilst symoltaneously trying to get it all out I notice something odd about the bogroll dispenser. A quick glance over my shoulder at the top of the toilet cistern confirms my suspicions. The owners have taken the necessary precaution of applying some rough plaster type substance on all smooth surfaces to prevent snorting coke off them.

As a little side note, I've never been a fan of snorting coke off toilets. Just something about the germs you'd pick up that puts me off. Dirty!

But I digress...the fact that an establishment has to do this to stop their patrons doing drugs in the toilets says a lot about the clientele and suddenly I'm not only nervous about singing, but worried about not going down well. I'm also now wierdly worried about catching super aids from the toilet (and yes, I know this makes no sense).

At any rate that speeds up the process and I'm out washing my hands before I know it. And wouldn't you know it there's hot water! Ooh and soap in the dispenser!

I cautiously approach the hand dryer, a white box that looks like it was made in 1964 out of white cardboard, sticky back plastic and paper clips (complete with plaster roughened surface too) but what do you know, the bugger still works!

Ultimately I think as far as pre-shows go I'm going to give the Row Barge in Guildford a well deserved 6 out of 10.

The Yard Stick

So in order to accurately score a throne room we need to highlight exactly what makes the perfect potty.

After hours of musing and straining I have come up with what I believe to be a very complete list of the essentials of a good toilet.

Here it is:

1.       Smell/look clean

2.       Lights working

3.       Cubicle door has a working lock

4.       Hook inside cubicle for coat etc

5.       Toilet seat

6.       Toilet paper

7.       Working flush

8.       Working taps (hot and cold water)

9.       Soap

10.   Hand dryer / paper towels

On top of the above essentials list points can also be awarded for other luxury features such as (but not limited to):

11.   Piped music

12.   Ceiling to floor cubicles

13.   Tasteful décor

14.   Touchless systems (flush, taps, soap dispensers and hand dryers)

15.   Mouthwash

16.   Contact free exit (you don’t have to pull a door open with your clean hands to leave)

17.   Dyson Airblade hand dryers

18.   Toilet seal disinfectant dispensers

19.   Environmentally friendly appliances

20.   Hand cream

Contrary to popular belief, it does not add a touch of class to employ a gadgie to sit in the corner of the khazi selling his men’s fragrances at a £1 a spray and singing songs such as “No spray - no lay” and “No splash - no gash” whilst forcing you to dry your hands on a towel he is showing in your face before you’ve even got the water running . This will cost points, not gain.

Intro - What's it all about?

Hello everyone and welcome to my Khazi Corner, my very own bog blog. 

THE place to come for tinkle tweets and shit statuses.

About Me:

I’m a rockstar in a band based in Surrey and Hampshire and like many other performers out there I get bouts of nerves before going on stage.

Many a rock and roll legend has had their own before-gig routines or chill outs; things they do to focus them and get them ready to wow the crowds.

I’d love to have one of these rituals too but unfortunately, due to nerves, I just end up sitting on (or hovering above in some cases) the toilet wondering when it will all end.

About this blog:

In my time performing gigs all over the counties I’ve come to greatly appreciate the underrated luxury of a good toilet. It’s bad enough that I find myself needing to visit trap two before we go on stage but, depending on the size of the gig, sometimes I have to have not just one, but multiple pre-shows. And if a toilet is lacking the basics then what is already an unpleasant situation can quickly become unbearable.

I’ve decided to catalogue my journey of the backstage thunder box, to let you join me in the unpleasant, rejoice with me in the divine and laugh at me and my somewhat obsessive compulsive disorder.

I’m also going to keep the name of our band and my own name out of this blog. I’m going to be brutally honest about the state of the shitters in all the venues we play. And I’d hate to be banned from playing a venue just because I dissed their dunny.

So, here we go…