Airports and poo

So, I’m in Sydney airport and I’m queueing for one of their internet terminals. They’re nowhere near as numerous as those at Changi (Singapore), and from my experience about 1/3 of them are broken. However, I’m in a queue so I do the English thing and queue.

As an aside, one thing I don’t understand is how aiports will provide free terminals at a cost of a couple of hundred quid each to themselves, or a sponsor. But they charge money for wireless, which costs a fraction of that to set up and administer. Cyercafes are the same. Use one of their PCs and it’s, say, NZ$2 per hour. Bring your own hardware and it’s twice that. Barmy.

Anyway, I was queueing for some time. These terminals are like rocking horse **** at this airport, and a working one is like rocking horse **** made out of solid gold. I actually have found golden rocking horse **** – in fact, it was golden rocking unicorn **** which is even rarer. You can find out all about it in the part-fictionalised version I sold to Hollywood last year – Indiana Jones and the Golden Rocking Unicorn Turd which is due out in summer 2008. We’re just waiting for Harrison Ford to complete work on some crappy rom-com.

I digress. Again.

Because of the queue length, I rapidly became aware of a need to poop. I couldn’t relinquish my queue place or I’d not get online before my flight. I clenched, I crossed my legs and I touched cloth on numerous occasions, but I finally got to check my email before running like hell to the toilet.

One guy was ahead of me and he proceeded to the only available cubicle. Where he had a piss.

Now, this bloke had no bulky luggage which would have given him an excuse for using a cubicle instead of a urinal. But, no. He had to lock himself in the only flipping trap so I was left hopping back and forth trying to convince the Turd of Doom to snake back into my intestinal tract ratgher than spread itself Marmite-like around my inner thighs.

Eventually, he came out and I crapped.

All I want to say is this – if you saw a guy in Sydney airport around 8:30am in the area of Gate 60, wearing a dark cap, red and white checky jacket, pale trousers, glasses and with a small lime green and white rucksack/daybag on his back – he has a really small penis, or at least trouble pissing in public near other people. Also, he didn’t wash his hands afterwards.

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Yes. Yes I am. ********.

Dewi Morgan

You really are vindictive when crossed, aren’t you?

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