Los Servicios.

Since I am absolutely against paying to use a toilet and often traveling, I just do like all the other Hondureño males do.

My baño is frequently on the side of the road, between two trucks, on a dirty wall, or in a semi-private corner. Try to watch the slash-back off the concrete.

Although I've yet to nonchalantly whip it out in San Marcos where I live. Trying to maintain a little respect at home.

Art, fashion, design.

With a reputation of flashy fashion, high society, and elitist attitudes, you'd think the Milanese would have sexier places to relieve themselves. Nope. They use the same dirty stink pots that commoners do.


Maybe this one has Carrara marble on the inside.

Disappointment.

Rest stop closed? Guess I'll just go in the grass next to my car.

Revolution or devolution.

Here is the future.



And here are the facts.

At least now men of the world can unite and pee green.

Sorry ladies, this eco-friendly pissing thing is a gentleman's only club. In fact, as progressive alpha males, we could solve this issue by ditching the toilet all together and going behind a tree. In the bushes. Between parked cars. Behind a dumpster.

Or maybe with some black-socked, beer-guzzling Germans along a fence... next to the porta-potties.

But who wants to relieve themselves in a smelly, plastic box that's been roasting in the sun all day? Not me. I'll embrace the group session along the fence.

Broke.

Sad. I know. Let's just remember it as it once was. In its time of glory.

Prehistoric pot.

The ancient Greeks had it all, over 2,500 years ago.

But was I doing this horribly wrong? Were the archaic sitters really squatters?

In any case, it must've been great to do your business where all your buddies could see.

Way, way worse.

Now... it could have been dirtier and smellier. And at least I wasn't flanked on each side by squatting, grunting old men like in Belgrade. I did have my privacy. I'll give them that.

The worst part was the flush. Use the red contraption under the faucet. Wash it away... wash it all away, out of sight.

There. Don't you feel better now?

Under construction?

To the unadvanced eye, this may seem like the urinals have been ripped out. But to the extremely advance eye, now you just go where they used to be. I mean, they still got that drain on the floor, right? Either way, you don't gotta flush here. Things'll take care of 'emselves... I'm sure of it.

Goal.

Celebrate Koelsch Karneval with a penalty shot.

This one was fun, especially when you've got a full bladder after a full day of Karneval drinking. See how many balls you knock through that net. I must've scored upwards of 30 or 40 goals.

My house in Cologne (when I studied aboard there) even had its own urinal right next to the normal toilet. That was probably the most fruitful period of my life. Or most convenient after Freibier* at Roonburg.

Maybe Cologne is just a special place in the world when it comes to urinals.

*Freibier = Unlimited Koelsch for 2 hours

Peeing in public.

A more sanitary and discrete update from my last post, although in theory quite similar. Those Dutch are so liberal and forward-thinking... nothing bothers them.

Poor man's pot.

A tried but true classic. The brick wall behind the parked car.

During nights of drinking in Parma, this is bound to happen. No lines. No piss covered floor.

No flush necessary.