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Cheaters

Single gal about town — Sat, 18 May 2013 17:59:00 +0000

Today I was told a heartwarming tale by a young boy who has been with his girlfriend for 3 and a half years.

"Shit, she reckons she's pregnant"
- Really, is that a bad thing?
"I've got a fucking bird!!"
"Her fucking fanny stunk aswell. I came home afterwards and my junk stunk. I didn't wanna have to start washing my junk at 3am coz my bird was in bed so I just had to spray a bit of febreeze on it and slide into bed and hope she didn't wake up and notice because if she would have grabbed my cock she would have knew"

This, ladies and gentlemen, is my view of the relationship world.

A few weeks ago I was introduced to another young boy who had appeared to take a shine to me. He is a new lad in our office. With the memory of the last young office whippersnapper still fresh in my mind I was dubious however what does @singlegalabto do when she decides she will never mess around with a young boy from work again.....she quickly finds an even younger boy in work. 1990. Dear god.

Regardless of this he seemed quite nice, and infinately more mature than the old one possibly because he is ex army so I thought oh what the hell. He asked me out, showered me in compliments, brought me gifts (Well it was cups of coffee but the sentiment was the same) and in general was ever the eager beaver.

Occasionally he would send rather suggestive texts and me in my "butter wouldn't melt" mode doesn't enter into such talk with new ones so I simply said "Have you not had it for a while or something"

And he replied

"Oh, well, heres the thing....shit....I don't know how to say this.....I've got a bird"

WHAAAAAAAAAT

So it transpires this young lad is right down wrongun ally. But get this. He then goes on to tell me that I should give him a chance and he is a nice guy and he is really into me.

Sorry love I don't play second fiddle to anyone. Do I look like bit on the side material to you? Swerved.

He's inconsolable! Asking my mate if he will talk me round and the like. What the hell is he suggesting? He has 2 girlfriends? I be a backup? I just do not get boys at all.

It reminds me of that guy who used to send me messages on facebook about how he really wanted to fuck me and then the next day his statuses would be all about how he was getting married to the love of his life and all this.

I will never understand people. Why not just be single if you want to mess around?!!!!

In more uplifting news I have begun Herbalife and I am rather pleased to say I have lost 8lb in about 10 days with hardly any effort or discomfort at all! It takes a bit of getting used to all this shake replacement business but I will see where I am after a month and give everyone my full opinion.

It is almost 5 months now since I had sex. I think my record is 6 months. I'll be honest kids I am absolutely climbing the walls and I am in dire need of a good hard shagging session......I think by my next blog I will have had one x

Cheaters

Single gal about town — Sat, 18 May 2013 17:59:00 +0000

From Prom to pram. A modern disease.

knifedhostage — Wed, 15 May 2013 10:40:00 +0000

The streets today seem full of young girls pushing prams. Everywhere I look, 7 earrings, sovereign rings on every finger, ponytail high on head. Those whose only opportunity in life is to raise children as a cash crop.
Quite saddening really.

A brief history of time. All the following dates are approximations.

knifedhostage — Tue, 14 May 2013 11:54:00 +0000

13.75bn years ago. The Big Bang, aka pop whoosh fucking everything.
4bn years ago. The Earth was formed. A large ball bearing with bits of rock and mud plastered on to it. Then it rained and we had seas an ting.
4k years ago. People started seeing things they couldn't explain so explained it away by the gift of sky fairies.
2013 years ago. A middle eastern carpenter told everyone to chill.
Soon after, people wrote books about him. Then starting killing each other.
6k years ago. The Earth was made. Despite it already existing.
5 mins ago. Started writing this shit

Neither light nor electricity can ever escape the clutches of the land of the golfer.

knifedhostage — Tue, 14 May 2013 11:40:00 +0000

Between Formby and Hall Road there is the first evidence of a super massive black hole. Mobile phone signals just do not appear to exist there.
Everything Everywhere should change their name to Some Things in Certain Areas, Occasionally.
How are you supposed to stream hardcore Barry Horne with no signal?

Hole in the Wall Cafe, School Lane

Babs — Sat, 11 May 2013 07:26:02 +0000

My visit to the Hole in the Wall Cafe was totally by accident; I had to get to Childwall for a meeting by 8.30am and considering my car was in the garage, (so they could charge me £200 to tell me it’s “completely fucked” this time) I had to get up at stupid o’clock to get the bus to town.

As you can imagine, the 6am bus into town is a pretty dire affair; with half of the overpacked seats falling asleep into their Starbucks coffees and the other half doing the walk of shame home and trying desperately not to throw up. So anyway, after a soul destroying journey that involved two buses, an unexpected detour around Croxteth and getting lost in Childwall, I finally arrived at my meeting… which, after all that, only took fifteen minutes.

So, by nine o’clock I was headed back into town, and I was absolutely starving.

Resigning myself to the fact I’d have to go and sit amongst the students in Maccies if I wanted to get something to eat this early, I frantically Googled “breakfast in Liverpool” before my phone ran out of battery, (obviously, seriously don’t buy an iPhone.) Anyway, that’s how I ended up in The Hole in the Wall Cafe who boast “the best breakfast in Liverpool City Centre.”

As well as an extensive range of toasties, paninis and lunch options, The Hole in the Wall Cafe offers a “Build your own breakfast option” – which I obviously took full advantage of.

All in all, The Hole in the Wall Cafe completely lived up to it’s declartion of being the best place for breakfast in Liverpool. The cafe itself was adorable and, not only was the food delicious, but my whole plate of food cost about £2.50… you can’t argue with that!

Address: 37 School Ln, City Centre, Liverpool L1 3DA

Phone: 0151 709 7733

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Hole in the Wall Cafe, School Lane

Babs — Sat, 11 May 2013 07:26:02 +0000

So, by nine o’clock I was headed back into town, and I was absolutely starving.

As well as an extensive range of toasties, paninis and lunch options, The Hole in the Wall Cafe offers a “Build your own breakfast option” – which I obviously took full advantage of.

Address: 37 School Ln, City Centre, Liverpool L1 3DA

Phone: 0151 709 7733

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Creepy Neptune Statue – Old Hall Street

Babs — Thu, 09 May 2013 11:44:44 +0000

Let me first start off by saying to anyone who lives/works anywhere in the vicinity of Old Hall Street – I feel your pain. Every day this week I’ve had to battle against the wind no matter what way I’m headed. I swear on Tuesday one of my fake eyelashes blew clean off and ended up having to go into work looking like I was going to one of those half drag half not photoshoots.

Anyway, the real point of this post is to acknowledge the big statue of Neptue smack bang in the middle of Old Hall Street.

Why are we focusing on this you may wonder? Well, not only is it one of Liverpool’s creepier statues, but the way it’s positioned means that it’s staring directly into the eyes of anyone unfortunate enough to work in the dry cleaners.

Fucking Terrifying.

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A modern day approximation of a Beatles classic.

knifedhostage — Wed, 08 May 2013 18:40:00 +0000

The Tool on Breeze Hill.

Day after day, alone on yer Bill,
The lad with the swinging jaw's just necked his seventeenth pill!

Big fiery ball in the sky makes fleeting appearance over Northern Europe.

knifedhostage — Tue, 07 May 2013 10:07:00 +0000

It is definitely more than 14℃. I've just had to Velcro rip my ballbag from my thigh.
First sign of sunshine and every convertible on the road is driven by a woman with oversized sunglasses.
Old folks still wearing more coats than a Debenhams make up counter sales girl's face .
Flip flop fuckery.
Golfers don't like it when you run from the bushes firing a paintball gun shouting GRENADE, then throw yourself on top of their ball.
Sportsdirect.com rubbing their hands/screffs in Lonsdale vests taking their false teeth out in pub beer gardens.
Kiddas still wearing full black trackies with hoods up.
Goths secretly wanting to wear bright colours but not being allowed to, then cutting themselves, which produces bright red. Compromise.
Pensioners on benches. Benchioners.
Students in micro bikinis having their pictures taken by the tabloid press eating ice cream on Brighton beach. "Phew what a scorcher, fnarr fnarr!"
Bad beauts in Toms.
Fake tan acting as a sunscreen.
Wanting to sit outside the pub all day.
The BBQ aisle in Tesco being decimated apart from the hors d'oeuvres. "Fucking horses again!"
Sitting in the office drinking tea but proper Turking for a Calippo.
Knowing that if you weren't in work you wouldn't be out enjoying the sun at all. You'd be in the house scratching your Jedwards and moaning like fuck about the heat.
"Let's have a salad for tea!" Two minutes after eating it. "I'm fucking starving. Go the Maccies la."
Spotting wools asking for iced lollies.
Listening to the Happy Mondays in the sun and buzzing your Albert Dock off.
Seeing people sunbathing wearing Beats and wondering if they will get a boss tan with white ears.
Regretting not shaving your head last night.
Allerton Towers being better on a day like this than Alton Towers.
That mad haze you get over the city when its proper sunny.

A theory on the universe and our place within.

knifedhostage — Thu, 02 May 2013 11:39:00 +0000

There are many theories about the shape of the universe from turtle stacking to a saddle shape and beyond.
My own theory was born this morning whilst looking in the bathroom mirror
We are, in fact, inside a toothpaste tube. The dark matter that scientists talk about is the actual toothpaste and we are component parts within. You yourself may be fluoride!

When we talk about black holes we are actually talking about our escape from the tube. We are pushed through the hole and into another universe where we are literally just toothpaste. Previous atoms of humanity, now atoms of minty freshness.

Oh, and if you are religious, then it's god squeezing the tube. Or something like that.

Arm and Allah anyone?

100% proof that creationism is correct.

knifedhostage — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 11:16:00 +0000

I have seen the light! The original scribe of the bible, let's call him Bob, was dyslexic and the real creator was a Dog, not god.
Dogs have the ability to lick their own bollocks. What more evidence do you need?!
When they have an itchy hoop they drag themselves across the carpet. Dog moves in mysterious ways!

Some random reflections on life since turning 40

knifedhostage — Mon, 29 Apr 2013 11:57:00 +0000

I don't really feel any different since I reached the milestone earlier this month. I didn't honestly think I would, but there are a few things that have become a bit more noticeable.

I have developed an unhealthy and irrational hatred of baseball caps.

My sister bought my nephew a pair of Nike 'hi-top sneakers' and those words put together made me want to staple a catalogue of Adidas trainees to her fod.

I find myself yearning for the late 70's and 80's more and more. This usually happens when listening to commercial radio.

I despise forced development in language and fashion. By this I mean that Joey Essex cunt and the fusey. And also the cringeworthy efforts of certain denizens of Liverpool to generate some kind of camp alternative language. I mean, prinny, yew, ket on it. What a heap of shit. Language develops over time, it isn't introduced and rushed through over Twitter.

I find myself looking around and wondering if people really are as thick as they appear to be. Common sense is in decline. Expect bleach drinking to sweep the nation soon.

My interest in Soviet iconography is gathering apace. I must visit at some point. Must.

I keep thinking that if the technology of today were around as I was a child I may have grown up without a great deal of the insecurities and issues I have as an adult. Some people keep diaries, I tweet and blog. This is cheaper than therapy. However, I can forego the dearth of technology for the gift of the music I was awoken to.

Public transport is shit.

I will post more later.

Got wrecked and saw a willy

Single gal about town — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 21:02:00 +0000

I saw a willy yet I am still a 2013 virgin. Work that one out.
This weekend could not have come quick enough. I have had a shitter of a week due to some gobshite from boyfriends past and I literally could not wait to get right out and party my socks off. I had not seen my Bezzie mate in months, since Amsterdam in fact. We pencilled this date in about a month ago and as I rocked home from work on Saturday afternoon there was my pal sat on my driveway bearing gifts of vodka, beak and clothes she didnt want any more. What a fucking bird.
We hit the vodka straight away. 6pm on our first large one was always only going to end one way. Made a slight schoolgirl error when we realised by around 8pm that we were pretty pissed and had to apply our make up but we were In a "fuck it" frame of mind so didnt care and went out resembling something out of the hobbit. Fit hobbits like but hobbits all the same.
Ungodly size bottle of vodka which started off our night

It was a night out on a shoe string as we are both skint so it was 40quid max. We got bladdered before we went out and got our tame taxi driver to take us and pick us up which he does for half price coz he's fuckin sound like that. So alls we had to spend was soft drinks money and entry into garlands. Winner.
We went to mohitos first which was just alright and then we went next door to bar baa where we danced for a bit when mate stops and says....
"Oh my god, it's Anton Powers...and he's heading towards the DJ box"
Me and my mate love Anton and we basically have stalked the living shit out of the poor boy for years. All the clubs, cream fields, you name it, we've been. It's become hillarious now because recently we have started getting our photo taken with him like full on groupies. We may be almost 30, but quite frankly we do not give a fuck. The man is a bloody musical genius.
Our fella phoooaaaaarrrrrr

We did not however know Anton was going to be there so you can imagine our joy. We stayed for his set, I think he either called us over for a picture or we guilted him into it by showing him other pictures of us together but who gives a fuck it's another one for the collection.
While all this drinking was going on we were of course getting right on it with a couple of bags of columbias finest. It's been a while since I got on the party powder and I'm not ashamed to admit I had a bloody ball.
Next stop garlands... Magical place, it's our spiritual home. I'd not been since boxing night and once in there I must have got over excited and ended up dropping a couple of pills too.....

By the time 5 o'clock rolled around I was ready to leave, I was going to the bad place....I tried to have a word with myself in the taxi but it was no use. I was gone.
I got in bed and started bargaining with myself. You clubbers will know what I mean. Having the "if I survive this night, I will never ever take another substance as long as I live. I mean it" conversation with yourself. "If I just stay dead still itl be alright". "I need a wee again. Again though iv been 15times already". "Have I been asleep?". "Am I just waiting?". "Help".
This went on for a good couple of hours or so when I finally got a couple of hours shut eye and then we decided we would make an emergency dominos order at 11am which made us feel much better. We must be the only clubbers that get HUNGRY after a heavy night on the gear. Sly.

My mate went home about half 1 and by this time my comedown is In full swing. I'm feeling lonely, needy, like I may shed a tear. Still with the "I love you" effects of the ecstasy bubbling around my body I made the rather ridiculous decision to call Andy. He's full of I love you's lately. On this occasion however he chose to inform me he'd banged some bird the night before which fucking depressed me further and I ended up having to pretend it was sound. "Ring me back in 15mins" he said. "I'm just getting on the tube".
I hung up ready to commit. There literally could not have been a better moment for an opportunistic shagger to text me and ask me if I fancied giving him a blow job.
"Really, what's in it for me" I said.
"I may...in fact I will return the favour"
SOLD.
So I did didn't I.

Rang Andy back and said "afternoons perked up no end I'm getting laid il ring u tomorrow". Fuck you arsehole, 2 can play at that game flower. And off I went and had an hours cheeky business with an ex shaggee from last year. It's bloody ridiculous to be fair and he did literally mean blow job I'd only been there about 5 mins and he'd cum....fuming. But if Andy asks I got rattled all over the place and it was boss ok? Sound.
Yes so this weekend had it all. Partying, drugs, slutty behaviour yet shockingly I still have not had any sex this year which I think means I have retained my good behaviour sticker....if you hook up with someone you've had lots before then it doesn't count....right?
My mate doesn't know about the naughty behaviour. Lets see how long it takes her to text me and ask me who it was
Xxx
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Beyond random but totally welcome.

knifedhostage — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 18:30:00 +0000

Been looking at the traffic sources for my blog hits and I appear to be very popular is Russia. This pleases me no end.

Instruments of torture on a random Sunday night.

knifedhostage — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 08:49:00 +0000

All around the world, those of an unscrupulous manner (mad dictators, special forces, the Go Compare man etc) have long used sleep deprivation as a torture method.
It disorients, confuses, makes you feel punchy, unable to fully function and therefore more malleable to those touched by the dark arts.
I myself have suffered from insomnia for all of my adult life. No more so than when I know I have to be up early the next day.
My mind starts wandering to any variety of utter shite and I find myself with a sort of electrical buzz firing its way along my synaptic superhighway triggering bollocks after bollocks in my memory.
It is as though my mind is sabotaging me.
What am I to make of this?
My brain is either a terrorist, wired incorrectly or a vicious cunt.

Quay Confectionery – Albert Dock

Babs — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 07:29:25 +0000

A few years ago I found myself in a random Polish supermarket in London. There, nestled between the goat’s livers and sheep eyeballs, shining like a beautiful, breakfasty, beacon was a box of Lucky Charms.

Ignoring the £6.99 price tag, I ran to the counter to buy the delicious marshmellowy goodness, only to find that I’d left my purse on the train.

I can categorically tell you that losing the box of Lucky Charms that day was much worse than losing £30 and having the hassle of reordering all my bank cards.

I tell you this because, if like me you have an insatiable craving for American breakfast cereal, then the Quay Confectionery in the Albert Dock is the place you want to go.

As well as Lucky Charms, (although why you care about anything is beyond me) they sell a whole range of chocolate bars/pop tarts/sweets that, for whatever reason, our government has decided shouldn’t be manufactured here. Not to mention blocks of fudge which I haven’t tried, but I reckon are probably worth getting fat for.

Overall an 8/10 – If you can overlook the fact you’re paying top dollar for processed American food, then you’ll be like a kid in a candy shop. Although it’d be a 9 if they stocked Kellogs Smores.

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Covert Research aka The Interview!

MissTerious — Sun, 21 Apr 2013 17:26:00 +0000

FDF has been rather naughty recently- don't worry, I've not participated in Brown Sports with a KLM training captain or been flagellated by a Nazi dominatrix from Lufthansa, but I have had a job offer of returning to the skies which I politely declined (and a really friendly guy from Manchester got offered the job instead- ex BMI crew, passionate and an asset to the skies to boot!) I attended the interview in the hope I would get a blog post out of it so here are my findings!

I turned up at the airport on time and thought I'd turned up at my sixth form common room back in 1998. Fashion and behaviour-wise. Have standards declined so much in the time I've been out of the loop or at 30, have I turned into one of those sad fuckers who always say policemen are looking younger? I took in the scene before me and I spotted the object that most employers take the piss out of. You guessed it, the Record of Achievement folder. For those too old, too young or too foreign to know what I'm on about, this folder was (or still is? Who knows) given to schoolkids to prepare them for the rocky path of job seeking. In it, you documented achievements at school like punctuality, certificates you got for shite like getting 100% in a French Oral (and I don't mean fellatio with an Air France hottie) and as you progressed through school, you were supposed to write personal statements, what you wanted to be when you grew up and how you were to achieve that goal. Now, in actual fact, these folders were used to make you feel grown up and have some sort of responsibility about your career, but nobody over the age of 20 were expected to carry these round. These folders give the impression of an awkward teenager on their first day of work experience on the production line in a horse lasagne factory. Darling, if you carry one of those horrors, you are game for practical jokes. These folders SCREAM 'send me for a long stand'.

The majority of the interview attendees were from Yorkshire for some reason (can I please stress that I did NOT attend a Jet2 interview!) and I don't know if it's a regional thing but the interview attire was awful. Scuffed ballerinas do not a good impression make, it's ok if you're runnin' dahn t' shop but it only embellishes cankles and the fact you look like a tonne of King Edwards in a body stocking. I also saw the dreaded shoes, the forbidden shoes that nobody should ever, ever wear, unless it's fancy dress. Yes, I'm talking about kitten heels, the most pointless, unflattering shoes ever to have existed since Crocs. I also spotted a few rotund ladies in bodycon skirts- I wear bodycon myself but a) I am a size 6 and b) I am not attending a job interview. How are you expected to fashion a suit out of bodycon? Do they not teach children interview dress in school anymore? Suit jacket and a New Look spandex skirt make you look like a Turk Slag high on HRT. I groaned inwards and a part of me died when I saw rucksacks and shopping bags and also a fake Claireabella. If you feel the need to carry a bag with your name on, you're obviously still a bit young in the head to deal with the hardcore cabin crew life. If you're partial to a rucksack, I can tell you now you will never be able to carry of the Airport Walk or point to the exits in a feminine manner.

I was sad to see a demise of the Fuck Off Neck Scarf. How can someone apply for a job as cabin crew and not have a natural instinct to put on a neck scarf with a jaunty knot? Would you apply for a job as a hooker if you couldn't put a rubber on? I noticed that all the girls who bothered to wear the scarf got through to the second round of the interview stage.

Hair and make up was all over the shop as well. I could tell some of these girls had never applied make up in their life and left a big ring of white skin round their neck where their foundation wasn't blended in like some sort of fucking mallard drake. Waist length hair was left loose and hair dyes and piercings were on full view. If you can't be bothered taking out your nose ring and putting your hair in an updo for the interview, you're definitely going to be a troublemaker in the workplace, causing delays due to you being pulled in for a uniform check. The PILFs aren't gonna be interested either and the baggage handlers will mistake you for a piece of luggage- ugly, outsize and misshapen. We're not in school now you know, no rolling up your skirt.

Full marks go to all the lads at the interview, they all made an effort, suited and booted. Particular recognition goes to the girls of Manchester, Liverpool and the South who were all immaculate (and got through to the final round too!) Take it from me, if you're attending a cabin crew interview and you've no prior cabin crew work experience, dress the part, talk the talk and you're halfway there. Pick out a suit, a white blouse, a neck scarf and if your hair is longer than your shoulders, make sure it's up as this will be what they'll expect of you and it helps the interviewer visualise you in the role.
Certain words and phrases will be picked up on in your one to one interview too- I always like Teamwork, Empathy, Safety and throw in a bit of jargon too. CRM stands for Crew Resource Management and basically means teamwork and rapport with colleagues- get it in there for extra brownie points! For God's sake don't mention pulling pilots or saying you hate chav passengers. Positivity at all times! You can moan once your foot is in the door! Some of these candidates hadn't prepared for the interview at all, didn't know a thing about the airline and treated it like it was a bog standard office job.

At the interview there was a teamwork exercise in addition to the one to one interview- make sure you're not a wallflower and not a bossy boots either- a happy medium is what they're looking for.

I was sad to see the airline didn't provide any refreshments on the day as I had been with this particular airline 10 years previously and was provided delicious cakes and coffee. Sad economic times or a tight employer? Who knows. Either way, aviation has changed an awful lot since my debut and so have the standards in society. It's a dog eat dog world out there, make sure you stay abreast of the competition.

Open Letter To Old Holborn

@ByThePitz — Sun, 21 Apr 2013 12:27:00 +0000

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA Liverpool fucking got you, didn't we, you weird old pathetic excuse of a 'man'?

You thought you was clever hiding behind a mask using the murder of a child & 96 football fans who died at Hillsborough to carry on your long & sustained campaign of hatred against our city.

You & your wife openly mocked Boston for having the audacity to be bombed. Another tragic event in which an 8 year old child died. Can you see a pattern?

That isn't free speech. You're just a shithouse abusing dead children & hiding behind Freedom of Speech. You're a disgrace to Freedom of Speech. Even the President of The Libertarian Society has said your campaign of hatred in order to cause upset was morally pungent & against the whole ideal of Freedom of Speech.

Places like North Korea & China have no speech freedoms. If they did, do you think they'd be mentally unstable & use their freedoms to mock innocent children who've died? Why would a 51 year old 'man' want to abuse dead children?

You're a strange, strange 'man' & I'm completely glad your nasty campaign has halted to a complete stop. I now hope everyone you know, now knows you're a bizarre cretin who has the moral compass akin to a love child of Jimmy Savile & Kelvin Mackenzie.

Also, leaving your wife to face the mess that YOU caused is another example which proves you didn't stand by your 'free speech' argument. You left your wife to face a backlash which reached far beyond Liverpool. What an abhorrent shithouse.

Pathetic excuse of a 'man'. Pathetic. Pitiful. Weak.

Although I don't condone threats of violence people have made against you, you intended to cause alarm & distress. So don't cry when people cause alarm or distress to you.

What you said wasn't just 'offensive', it caused distress to the mother of James Bulger. A lady who has lived with the effects of the most heinous crime imaginable to any parent for two decades. That's not Freedom of Speech. That's just a nasty old bastard who has shown a pattern of abusing dead kids.

You're a vile, vile 'man' & I'm now glad the cat is out of the bag.

I hope everyday you wake up & psychologically suffer just a fraction of what the Hillsborough families & James Bulger's parents have felt for over two decades. Then you'll realise you're a nasty piece of dog shit.

We don't want your 'apologies' either. So you can fuck off, you horrible, pathetic, vile, disturbed, old 'man'.

Moose coffee toilets (yeah, I’m really reviewing them)

Babs — Thu, 18 Apr 2013 09:10:04 +0000

The toilets in Moose Coffee are downstairs, which is excellent news for anyone who, like me, has probably just drank their body weight in dime bar milkshakes and doesn’t fancy having to waddle upstairs.

That said I wasn’t too keen on the whole unisex thing – mainly because the scruff who went in before me left the seat up and didn’t bother to flush.

7/10

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