As with so many other women in this great world of ours, I’m afflicted with sharing a bathroom with people who have reached end of life “cantputthefuckingseatbackdownitis”
This isn’t a laughing matter.
This condition is seemingly incurable and often results in death.
Theirs.
Usually caused by a broken neck from being hit repeatedly with aforementioned toilet seat.
I can’t tell you how many nights I’ve semi woken to go to the loo. Staggering with eyes barely open, not turning on lights so I don’t “wake up”. ..
All that is wasted when your little botty aims for the seat that isn’t there and you end up soaked, up to your elbows, struggling to get back out because your feet no longer touch the floor.
If I got an all female jury I’d get off a murder rap on the grounds he bloody deserved it!
Last night I woke up to visit the chamber of horrors and seemingly had a mild case of the affliction.
Yes dear reader, I put the seat UP.
About ten minutes later, ‘im indoors went to the loo.
There was a great roar of outrage followed by many Anglo-Saxon epithets and supplications to the most high.
It would appear my action caused much shock, horror and hair raising profanity…
Revenge as it turns out, isn’t always sweet at all.
Sometimes it’s cold, wet and a lot deeper than expected!
Revenge is best served cold – they say for a reason.
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I don’t understand why the wimmins always complain about men leaving the toilet seat up… after all, you don’t hear the men complaining that the wimmins always leave it down, do you?
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True! But it’s a lot harder to sit on a loo with no seat than to aim precisely!
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Not all men leave the set up, I am one that can’t stand the set or top left open.
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I know and ‘im indoors is a pretty great hubby really – but we all have our moments!
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