Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Order and chaos

Whilst utilising the ablutionary facilities at our local hospital following a satisfying poo, I couldn't help but notice a noticeable notice informing me that something was Out Of Order.

Having re-read that sentence, two things have just occurred to me. The first is that the provision of such information could be classified as a bit on the "too much" side, and the second is the possibility that I might have given the impression I have to go to hospital to have a poo.

Let me put your feverish minds at rest, because I don't have to. In fact, the finest pooologist in the hospital* has told me, repeatedly, that I don't need to go there any more, and that maybe I shouldn't have been all these years anyway, and furthermore my argument incorporating the outrageous expense of paper and the dearth of dock leaves in my garden isn't considered a medical emergency by even the most eminent gastrointestinal specialists, apparently.

There. Now if, as in modern kid parlance, that is considered "TMI" then so is informing everyone of the most mundane detail of my life, like how I like to slam my willy in the fridge door whilst balancing a frying pan full of eggs on my head.

And that's just a domestic chore essentially.

Ooh, a digression. Did you see that? Just there. Yeah, I know.

Now where was I?

Oh yes, the Out of Order sign. Well, it wasn't the notice itself that prickled my curiosity, but it's location:

It was just taped to the wall.

I prodded the wall, but it seemed to be working. I looked above and below the sign, but there was naught to be seen but a cockroach, and that also seemed to be functioning normally.

Maybe the whole room was Out of Order. If so, a janitor was going to have a nasty surprise in the morning after my visit.

Perhaps it was out of numerical order.


Maybe it was angry, that sort of out of order.

"Poo in me would ya! Why I oughta . . ."

Maybe it was misspelled and should have read Out Of Ordure, or possibly Out of Odour?

Well, I certainly fixed either of them possibilities.

Fixed 'em good.

Then it occurred to me that, perhaps, the Out Of Order notice was for a window, which was so out of order it had completely disappeared. You don't get less workable as a window than a solid wall.

That totally makes sense BTW.

After the usual hour or so of contemplation you get sitting on the lav, it occurred to me that the wall was, in fact, simply a storage facility for the Out Of Order sign, rather than out of order itself.

This is quite interesting because it makes one consider the difficulties in placing an unrequired Out of Order sign in an appropriate place, without it causing that place to then be rendered unused.

To conclude, I really shouldn't post after three quarters of a bottle of Vin de Pays d'Oc and an empty stomach.

*Dirty Rosita, in Laundry Services.


  1. I do not agree..
    You definitely should continue to blog after a tipple.
    Yeah, theres a little TMI, but being a new parent I completely understand how poo gets into your thoughts and under your fingernails.
    Good luck removing both!

  2. You should always write with a buzz. How many different ways can you make an essay based on the concept "Out of Order" be funny? All of them. Jules, that was excellent. I owe you a beer.


  3. You mean they don't charge you for using the facilities? In this day and age? My, aren't public services a grand thing. Drink the rest of the bottle and tell us more.

  4. Tempo - Ooh, my head. you can remove them? Great!

    Pearl - Ooh, my head. Ta. And I'll take you up on that hair of the dog.

    Mdme DeF - Ooh, my head. Well, you do have to leave a deposit.

  5. More blogging while drinking, I say. This was rather funny. Even if I do know more about your pooing habits than I ought to.

  6. I was going to email you my favorite bathroom notice but you don't have an email addy on your profile. So I will just have to tell you what it looked like and what it said.

    The sign was like yours - a sheet of paper with large block print. It said,

    "This door does NOT lock. Poo at your own risk."

    Like you, I took a picture of the sign in all its brilliance.

  7. otherworldlyone - Some people are afraid of intimacy, but not me!

    Wow TWA - I like that sort of sensible advice. Maybe with some suggestions for tunes to sing to let people know you're in there and it's occupado.

  8. Maybe the sign is there so the janitor can go in there and put the sign on the door so that people won't knock or wait, and then he can have all the time he needs to do stuff. You know...STUFF. *wink* THINGS *wink* with your THING. *wink* *wink* Wink* *winkwinkwink*

    *Collapses from wink-induced seizure*

  9. Steamy - :-) Well, I'm pretty glad he didn't come in. I wouldn't want him winking all over the place whilst I was in the vicinity.

  10. The whole "out of order" concept, along with the vicodin, has rendered me paralyzed with contemplation.

  11. Maybe it's to discourage people from shitting on the wall.

  12. Beta Dad - That's mental constipation, that is.

    GB - Well, it had partial success then.

  13. Excellent post.
    Pooologist has quite a few of the letter 'o' in it? Come to think of it, with all the 'O'ut 'o'f 'o'rder references, this post might have the most 'o' letters per-capital (sic) in all of blog?


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