Pottered off to Brighton at the weekend on a wee train that stopped pretty much everywhere on the way. I think we only missed out Adlestrop and Hobb's End. Nice corporate hotel with nice corporate plasterboard walls and nice corporate bar prices, filled with matching sets of stag and hen parties
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Of course, because they were all wandering about in jumpsuits, it was clear that in that timeline going to the bog was a solved problem. No-one went to the toilet in the early 80s for similar reasons.
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They went to the bog annually.
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Checkerplate flooring looks 'tastic, but is a bitch to clean. Yes I know that's horribly practical, but it is something to consider.
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So what happens is that the forces of w0rng are cleaning up the pub bogs. Outwardly for sensible reasons, and those doing the cleaning have the best intentions of all concerned at heart. However, the existence of the portals has been kept from them.
Rough bogs = more people staggering wild-eyed from the back of the pub, looking as if they've been in the place for twenty years, but you don't remember them walking in the door at any time in the evening. It explains the enduring quality of squatpunk/crusty/metaller fashion, too. If you're going to walk into a pub in 2008 and end up in the Owl or the Ballroom in 1996, you don't want to be worrying about failing to fit in.
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