THE ART OF JAPANESE TOILET COMBAT

Being propelled at force from a Japanese lavatory whilst listening to the disguisory sounds of pan pipes could be considered rather random.

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What is the funniest thing you can think of? What is the funniest thing you have seen? What is the funniest thing you have done?

I don’t know whether this is the funniest but I recently had a very interesting moment with a Japanese toilet. You see in Japan the toilets have sounds to disguise toilet sounds. You can have a lavatorial accompaniment of wind blowing through the trees while wind blows through the cubicle. You may also have the sound of waves crashing to accompany a watery release and then of course there is the fog horn sound… And pause… A fog horn sound? Imagine.

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So in Japan the more advanced toilets are considered to the smallest degree. When you arrive they self clean and in the winter the seat is heated. Quite considerate don’t you think? Now beside the ‘potty’ there is a  technological innovation pod with numerous buttons. Those buttons have some fascinating diagrams and to be honest don’t you just want to press them all?

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So there I am in the bathroom with the wind whistling throug the trees leading to a creshendo of massage music to enable a level of privacy and a voice in my head whispered ‘press the buttons’. I fought the urge at first; however, one of my work colleagues had said when you are on a Japanese loo make sure you press the buttons because you will have a lovely surprise. So throwing caution to the wind, accompanied by the pan pipes and a gale, I pressed all the buttons.

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To say that I was shocked is an understatement. A jet of rather forceful water was directed to a certain passage of the anus kind. When I say ‘forceful’ the blooming thing hit at such force that I jumped, screamed and collided with the cubicle door! Bang! Obviously such a loud collision disturbed those quietly meditating on the beauty of seaguls sqwarking beside the sea and the fog horn friendly fellows. What made it worse was that even though I was now relatively far away from the porcelain perch, the blooming water continued to spray up my back and on my hair. When I turned around it hit me in the eye. Again the gentle sounds of tinkling, wafts of wind and massage music accompanied the watery eye invasion.

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Being somewhat soaked, I waited until the other cubicles emptied and the room was silent. I didn’t dare press any more buttons just in case I had a random moment of lavatorial liposuction or worse. When the coast was clear I headed outside to meet my friend who looked at the dripping mess in front of her and smirked. She said she had just seen one of our other colleagues who was wearing grey shorts. Unfortunately he looked somewhat concerned too because he had a large dark wet patch on the front of his shorts and droplets of water on his glasses. When he was pointing Percy at the porcelain he thought he would press a button and ‘percy’ got a ful on blast which landed in its shorts. So iIt looked like I had had a shower but at least I did not look like I had wet myself.

If in Japan press the buttons but be prepared!

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