Last post before Vietnam and the Deefock Supremacy. Now what image could transcend and even link East and West? How about this from Mike? A Carlisle outdoor bog with massed Cocos and sundry palms next door. As if the foreground has been agent oranged/napalmed, while Charlie/jungle is already surging back. Perfect. I’m sure I will be able to – as they say “compare and contrast” Vietnamese and Carlisle outdoor jungle crappers. Existence is always suffering. 
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The Worst of Perth 
Most houses in those suburbs are like this.
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Most shithouses?
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shit houses.
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So that’s where the expression “built like a brick shithouse” came from. That’s an almost impressive outdoor dunny. I can’t believe it, they’ve even tiled the roof. Most dunny’s I’ve seen before were just thrown together out of old corrigated iron.
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Glad to see the correct vernacular, “dunny”, used in this context, L_S.
“Bog”, indeed!!
Bloody pommie talk, that.
Shame Lazy, shame.
Likewise, the term “crapper”; a name derived from the inventor of the Water Closet, of which these were not.
Pans prevailed at the time of colonisation of these South Eastern Suburbs.
Governments and land developers had have a lot to answer for in the perssuit of the almighty dollar. (Or quid, as it was in them there days.)
However, I have no doubt that you will discover a whole new meaning to the words “shit hole” in your intended travels.
Buon Viaggi.
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I’ll be staying away from the local viaggi. I only got the hep A shot not the hep B.
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didn’t see a single awful crapper in vietnam, but then i didn’t venture into to the jungle.
india still leads in the awful crapper stakes as far as i am concerned.
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beijing subway had some nicely reeking ones.
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nice.
delhi train station had more than reeking, it had mountains of evidence to attest to the usage.
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Smells like, victory.
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Pity there’s nobody called Charlie on the trip.
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My advice, just from my hubby’s experiences on visiting Vietnam with his boss a couple of years ago, is don’t make the drinky-drinky motion with your hand when you get into a cab looking for a pub. You’ll most likely end up in a bar full of lady boys and viaggi for sale!
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Thanks Rolly. They were common to my area growing up, so I was taught the proper vernacular for them (pity about my spelling above though – that’ll teach me to type before my morning coffee. “Dunny’s” indeed!). The local church had the pan kind, which I don’t think anyone ever emptied, and the local nature reserve had the kind with the deep pit underneath. I always thought it would be unfortunate if one were to accidently drop their glasses down one of the pit ones.
My mother, who grew up in the 1950’s, also told me all about pans and the pan man who used to come every week. She told me everyone would disappear inside their houses at the time he was due to come and how at Christmas every year they’d leave him a bottle of beer or something similar as a thank you for his services.
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From what I hear, Friday nights – the Russian roulette games go off.
Just tell them Po sent you.
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No weekday post to prepare for the first time in 3 and a half years! What to do with my time tonight? Maybe a sip of alcohol. As you may have gathered, and as Deefock can attest, I have a strict no drinking while blogging policy. I am passionate about this. I have also always eschewed the sans pants attitude of other bloggers. So a nip of Madeira with no strides on tonight. Locked in.
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Yes LA, just as passionate as I have been about not drinking and commenting.
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Solidarity sister. Drinking while posting would only lead to moments like, “What the hell was I talking about?” when logging on in the morning. Not cool.
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Unusual for you to be commenting this late in the day, Shaz?
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Looks like I picked the wrong week to give up sniffing glue.
I was impressed watching TLA on the weekend: after excoriating (the few) impurities from his body with a rotting palm leaf, he composes each post in hiragana and katakana – and in the soshō style, no less – and then makes a sacrifice in front of a giant watercolour of Paul Murray before translating the post into English (this could explain his many spelling and punctuation errors).
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It’s an oil painting.
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But it’s no oil painting.
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It’s a (deemed offensive) sacrifice I’d gladly make, daily.
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Strange that its got its own hot water system, and that all the vents have been blocked up…xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx?
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Note to Deefock. Don’t forget to xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx these cunts back to the stoneage.
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Oh, I see. It is.
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Gives a new meaning to “hothouse flowers”.
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Serious corrosion happening to the metal cladding of the gable – something nasty here. Plus bricked up windows, hot water system, industrial vent pipe and patched hole in roof ….. I wonder what it could be?
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One of those hard-core yoga classes that make it as hot as a sweat lodge, no doubt, Hovean…
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I’d be grateful for that sort of infrastructure after a night on the Guinness.
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Likewise – but surely it would never get local government approval…
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Ahem, after slagging off the wets today, rounded by brownbook’s identification of cross promotion as the raison d’etre of the west. Comes D fuzz now posting via the seemingly abandoned rottobloggo? Trying to stop Don & I from expressing ourselves on the island? Repression of the truth mr fuzz?
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You’ve had too much yoga, Pete.
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Its a stretch alright
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You can’t handle the fuzz.
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We both know how hard it can be to get a dunny past the Planning Services Committee.
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….Carlisle, now a major centre for the cessation of suffering. And xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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send him to ze cooler
maybe it is a sauna?
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Either that was the best comment evah, or Dire Overlord Cohen is flexing up…
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Bret Christian doesn’t give Davie Boy Cohen this much leeway.
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Maybe I can get away with xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
maybe tomorrow.
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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