Scribbles on the bog door

On my travels back from the land of sheepshagging and close harmony singing recently (I think the two are related) I stopped off at a motorway service station to the south of Birmingham in order to top up the caffiene levels and take a dump. I don't know if you recall this but going to the lav in a service station 20 or so years ago was a journey into some Stygian abyss where you were met at the door to the bogs by a ferryman who would carry you in his coracle across the River Styx of urine that spread from a blocked loo across the floor.

Not so these loos which were, generally speaking, clean and reasonably pleasant, the hand driers worked and my cubicle was secured by a proper lock with a handle rather than a 2 inch screw hammered into what remained of the locking mechanism.

Now back in those dark and distinctly malodourous days the back of public bog doors seemed to be used as a general bulletin board. I am surmising that back in the days before the Intertubes came along people used to nip to the netty in order to post a message on topics of the day, mainly the status of their favourite football team or lack of form of a rival, politics - usually concentrating on the subject of The Troubles (such as "Fuck the Queen and the UDA", to which the considered political response was usually "Fuck off you Feinian bogtrotting cunt") and of course what everyone else uses the intertubes for, sex.

Specifically soliciting sexual encounters, normally between members of the male gender as, I assumed, that women of the heterosexual persuasion didn't tend to frequent the male loos, not even when there was a queue (and there would be) for the ladies.* I was never entirely sure what to make of these: I mean it seems a pretty odd way to advertise and I often wondered if they were all practical jokes truckers used to play on their mates - you know so Steve who had just got back from hauling a shitload of steel from Newcastle to Bristol was just bedding down for the night and gets a call asking to meet up at Forton services tomorrow evening for "Hot botty action".

Anyway back to 2008 and the interweb has triumphed; there isn't a scribble, no crude drawings of willies, no political slanging matches, no invites for participants in anal intercourse when, tucked up a corner, I spot this...



Not the best picture in the world but I didn't exactly want to turn the flash on did I! It was actually scratched into the veneer of the door and reads "Sicko wants to be bitch for large dogs"

Now I'm leaning towards "prank" for this one given the use of the word "sicko" but, even though there must be dozens of websites and forums for people whose interests encompass "being a bitch for large dogs" it is nice to see that even in this wired age there is still a place for the scribbes on the bog door.



* incidentally the one time I saw a queue for the mens bog and not the ladies was at the geekfest that is Microsoft TechEd.