See, it’s about 95 degrees already, and some delicate soul is OPENING THE WINDOW because of, well, what a BATHROOM naturally smells like.
[kill kill kill]
What’s a BOG?
Hell, if it smells that bad, can you blame them? 
Climate control wouldn’t eliminate the odor; it would just make the room cooler or hotter, right?
Isn’t a bog a kind of swamp?
Sounds Australian to me. 
I posted a note in my ladies’ room, too:
PLEASE THROW PAPER TOWELS IN TRASHCAN, NOT ON FLOOR.
YOU WERE NOT RAISED BY WOLVES.
Oddly, everyone knew I’d written it, even though it was unsigned!
At the campgrounds my family went to when I was a kid, they had pit toilets. After a particularly bad week with campers who didn’t know how such things worked, my father wrote a poem, my aunt calligraphed it, and they hung them up in the bathrooms:
If you close the seat on this little chair
when you’re completely through,
the next one in could breathe fresh air
(that next one might be you!)
BOG = Bathroom Of Guys?
Wolves use paper towels? Once again nature astounds me with its adaptability.
Come on, with the folks in your office, who else would post a sign saying “YOU WERE NOT RAISED BY WOLVES.” It was obvious.
Perhaps if it said “we’d appreciate your being considerate of the next user” or something equally inane, you could have gotten away with it.
We’re a floor of professionals. Mostly managers and analysts. So you can imagine my surprise when I saw this sign in our men’s room:
“To the person who keeps pissing on the toilet seat: If I find out who you are, I’m going to piss on your face!”
Naturally, it was left anonymous. My boss ripped it down. We do occasionally have clients and business partners visiting.
There are two signs up in the men’s room where I work, both much more politely phrased than the one I posted a while back. One is above the toilets admonishing whoever is urinating on the seats to stop it and lift the seat before starting. The other is between the urinals advising the men to aim more carefully. It includes the phrase “if you can’t be hittin’ consider sittin’.”
The one I posted, after finding enormous unflushed craps in the toilet one too many times, was more along the lines of IF YOU CAN’T FLUSH THE TOILET THEN PLEASE GO OUTSIDE AND SQUAT IN A BUSH WITH THE REST OF THE ANIMALS. It didn’t stay up for very long.
Anybody else have stories of a cow-orker bringing the reception newspaper with them for a read? and then putting it back in reception?
I hope not.
ah work bathrooms…
An experience I’ll share - I’d just like to know how a group of “adults” will use the women’s bathroom, and somehow manage to get whatever has come out of them, all over the seat and NOT NOTICE that they need to wipe it off!!
Am I missing something? My mom never taught me to aim at the seat, I thought it was supposed to go in the bowl…
Silly me.
Given a choice I would prefer to withstand a couple minutes of being in 95 degree heat over spending this same amount of time having to breathe in fart and poop odors from other guys.
"Dear snot wiper,
I don’t don’t where you were raised, but here in civilization, the only people who wipe their boogers on the wall are commie fag goat fuckers. To be perfectly fair, many commie fag goat fuckers are concientious about hygiene. If you have snot to get rid of, tear off a piece of the paper on your left, and put your snot there. Drop it in that big white seat in the middle of the stall when you are done. The rest of us don’t want to look at your boogers.
Sincerely,
Your Janitor"
I shouldn’t have signed it. I damn nearly got fired. A certain uptight big shot found the note, and he got really steamed.
miamouse, I can go you one better: We had a guy who used to take the newspapers from the cafeteria into the crapper with him-- and then return them. (Thank God he didn’t read the Globe & Mail.)
Finally a bunch of us called him on it one time when he was returning it during a particularly busy lunch-hour. “Mulligan! You had that paper in the toilet with you again, didn’t you?” “Uh, yeah.” “And you were just about to set it down on that table again, weren’t you?” “Of course.” “Do us all a favour and throw it in the garbage, please.” His look of blank incomprehension was met with an entire room full of people explaining to him in no uncertain terms why he was a disgusting S.O.B. who had probably cost the company a bundle in paid sick-days. I don’t remember ever enjoying someone else’s acute embarrassment quite so much. It was lovely.
. . . Brings a whole new meaning to “Mulligan stew . . .”
Does it skeeve anyone to find a magazine or newspaper thoughtfully(?) left for others to peruse in the workplace restroom? For me, personally, ick.
Digressing…Best urinal graffitti I’ve seen “Please do not throw your cigarette butts in the urinal, it makes them smooshy and hard to light.” Priceless.
a sign in a mensroom of a once visited hotel read, THIS IS A PLACE TO DROP YOUR GUTS, NOT BUST YOUR NUTS…KEEP IT CLEAN,KEEP IT NEAT. TAKE IT HOME AND BEAT YOUR MEAT.
My personal favorite-among all the I Love Joey and Mark + Stacie =TRU LUV 4EVR:
Give your guy a little class.
Don’t write his name where you wipe your ass