Tag Archives: high brow art

Toilet Humour

I feel incredibly guilty when I receive blog traffic from Total Politics. These users areĀ  looking for the proposed SNP-friendly political blogger advertised on their site under this address. I feel this guilt especially when I post blogs like the monstrosity below. Part of me – my inner conservative – genuinely wants to make this a proper, professional, journalistic blog. Sadly, this professional aspect is easily suppressed, which – since I often forget this blog is available through Google – may one day prevent me from entering the news industry. The remaining part of me would like to welcome you back to the journalistic hovel that is Easy Realism and hopes you enjoy your stay – even if you were looking for serious analysis of Sturgeon.

The new DSLR camera is great, thanks for asking! We’ve gotten on very well from the beginning – even though I was, and still am, unprecedentedly broke after buying it. Plus I still don’t really know what I’m doing with the thing. That is beside the point. Results so far have been visceral: I made someone throw up yesterday just by describing the results of my latest artistic project. Personally, I think it is a pretty interesting idea: I’m taking pictures of all the things that really piss me off about my family. I’m turning the negatives of family life into productive positives. Here are some of the early collections of images from this ongoing project, all based on my sister’s stomach-turning habits and ignorance of basic hygiene or decency:

1. These are some pretty bog-standard things to get pissed off about. I mean everyone forgets to flush now and again. That can be forgiven. It may even be an attempt to save water:

piss

Though for the sake of cleanliness, please for God’s sake, don’t let a pot get all orange and weird with mould. Because the internet is a totally inadequate medium for MY ART, I am unable to convey the smell that came off this thing. The mould had a smell:

pot

Our shower is broken. The “on” button is messed up. I improvised with some tape to get the thing working again, on the promise that it would be properly fixed within a few weeks. That was eight months ago. There is now some black thing presumably LIVING underneath the tape and the whole set up is frankly disgusting. I use the shower to clean, not to be contaminated by some tape-dwelling rank as fuck creature. The shower head itself also needs to be fixed as it keeps falling down mid shower and soaking the floor. I want to fucking kick the thing in every time it breaks while I am trying to wash and focus my anger on that fucking makeshift tape “on” button bullshit thing!

broken

Again, this must be some attempt to save the fucking planet by not using so much water: my sister has this fucking habit of spitting out her toothpaste and not washing it away. I THINK IT IS ACTUALLY RANK. Sometimes I have to wipe the toothpaste-spit away by hand before shaving. The thought of her spit inadvertantly touching my face makes me boke. I want to strangle her every time I see STUFF in the sink that should have been washed away. I want to fucking choke her. Here is an example of her having spit on the tap itself:

spit1

2. I spoke a few blogs back about having problems with food and in an attempt to reverse this food-aversion, I started buying more fruit. In particular, I started buying melons and grapes. Melon was the saviour of my stomach – until my fucking sister started taking my fruit for herself.

food11

I said she “takes” my melon for herself, not “eats”. As this picture clearly shows, she doesn’t fucking bother eating my food, she just fucking pokes at it, ruins it with her fucking teeth, and fucking leaves it behind. Not only does this mean she has to go and clean her fucking teeth and leave spit all over the tap like a fucking savage, but leaves her not-eaten dinner in the living room to fester and not be eaten and grow stinky mould all over it until I clean it up like the fucking butler. More melon, James??!?

food2

3. “Right, some cunt keeps leaving her fucking pants in my toilet!”

pants1

“I just came in here for a shite and look what I need to deal with!”

pants2

4. Not visceral enough for you? Here’s what she did when she took off her underwear:

yuckypissblood1WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?!? Yes, that’s right. It’s a half-congealed globule of period blood. On the rim of my toilet. Just left there to stare at me until I CLEANED IT OFF WITH A BIT OF TOILET ROLL. Here’s a close up for you:

yuckypissblood2That opaque shadow makes me want to fucking throw up.

5. So then, I came downstairs, and I saw this on the wall. I thought the toilet was following me – ghosts of periods past dripping their way down my kitchen cupboard like a menstruating Slimer.

wallpissBut no, it was actually worse. Some absolute manky twat had broken a glass and chucked it into the basin – already filled with crockery and water. Great, broken glass actually in the sink WHERE I HAVE TO PUT MY HANDS.

ksink3You absolute bitch!! Fucking clean up your own fucking mess! I am not your fucking butler!! I cut my foot on the floor because there were shards on it. My sister thinks everyone around her is a fucking tool. She came home and I asked her about this incident. She was the only one in the kitchen when it happened and it was pretty obviously her fault. She tried to pretend she had no idea what happened. ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT. There is no way this could have happened without her noticing. The official line that came out of her disgusting, Colgate mouth was “I had my work uniform… over there… it must have knocked it”. Call the fucking ghostbusters, Slimer has taken over her clothes as well.

ksink1And the worst bit? Kathy takes her fucking side; believes the ridiculous lie and is taken in by the farcical acting! I got the blame for the broken glass and stained sink – even though I was bleeding from the foot! Walking wounded!!

I have been considering options for what to do with these photographs. I’m thinking I should take photographs of every globule of menstrual blood for a year without telling my sister and turn it into a lovely calender, with a different period for every month. She’d like that. Or maybe I’ll just take a fucking shit under her pillow and resign as fucking chambermaid.

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