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The great Grey Nomad toilet run.

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What a hilarious moment in time!

Busting to go to the heads I rushed outside with just a dressing gown and slippers on.
First mistake.
After the cosiness of our little home, the blast of chilling wind was unexpected, whipping the front of my dressing gown open and revealing my nakedness to a poor unsuspecting world. After recovering from the biting cold now encompassing the body I continued my journey to the dunny. Just then I spotted this bizarre situation. From all over the park there was a mass charge of Grey Nomads all heading at breakneck speed, (like tortoises to normal folk), for the dunnies.
I was leading the charge.
Some of the Grey Nomads had obviously experienced the same problem as me and were struggling with dressing gowns against the biting wind. The ones closest to me were obviously gummy, leaving teeth back in the warmer climes of their vans.
A quick peek over the shoulder alerted me that the pack was gaining on me after my unfortunate trip and loss of a slipper over a speed bump carelessly built in the direct path of the heads.

I did, however, make it first and I admit to a bit of a self-satisfied smirk as another race entrant came to grief on the speed bump with the utterance of a loud profanity. Gaining the safety of the dunny and locking the door I could hear the fight for free cubicles outside from the other losers and I couldn’t help but laugh. The savoury mince last night caused a larger than the normal deposit and knowing the cubicle was fitted with a water-saving flush device I decided on a “pre flush” in case one wasn’t enough to clear up.

My mirth at the other poor unfortunates was short-lived as the “pre flush” showered every body part lower than the waist with -100 degree iced water.

I fair dinkum didn’t realise that gonads hung so far down the bowl. A shout of shock involuntarily left my lips and another loser next deer called our “Yer right mate”? “No worries”, says I unwilling to share my stupidity with the rest of the world.

Boy does each day give us a new lesson to learn.

2 Comment on this post

  1. I am not even going to try to picture the event. I bet if Kerrie was there she would have been beside herself with grief and offered all the assistance a good Brissie girl could muster; not . What a lovely lass.

    1. Gidday Ian.
      As you can well imagine the “lovely lass” had tears rollin down her legs as she went into hyperventillation laughing.
      No ruddy sympathy from that quarter!

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