Useless Objects: The Toilet Lid

From time to time Fryday indulges itself in questioning the veracity and purpose of apparently useless objects. Previous subjects we have scrutinised include eyebrows and male nipples. This week we look at toilet seats.
We begin by getting our terminology right. I talk of toilet seats for ease of reference; I am in fact talking of the toilet lid, which, whilst it forms part of the seat, has far more dire consequences if mistakenly left closed while in use. I can find a use for the seat, mainly comfort while seated, but what is the purpose and function of the lid?
However, before we get to the bottom of that, a slight digression as we look at an eminently practical toilet seat design and the meritorious body that governs it: the open-front toilet seat. The International Association of Plumbing and Mechanical Officials' Uniform Plumbing Code, section 409.2.2, requires that "all water closet seats, except those within dwelling units or for private use, shall be of the open front type". The code has no legal force, but because it is followed by many public authorities, many public toilets feature open front toilet seats (also called "split seats”). The purpose for this seat design is to allow women to wipe the perineal area after using the toilet without contacting the seat. It also omits an area of the seat that could be contaminated with urine, and avoids contact between the seat and the user's genitals.
Who knew? And who knew that there was The International Association of Plumbing and Mechanical Officials? I wonder how often they sit?
But back to lids. Apparently toilet lids provide a very important and sterile service—one that most of us have probably not thought about. Here I am indebted to Fryday’s scientific advisory panel http://www.littleherbal-international.co.nz/ (highly recommended). This makes for troublesome reading, I admit, and you need go no further if you wish, but it has come as a surprise to many I have mentioned this to, that: “After flushing a toilet with the seat up, significant quantities of microbes float around the bathroom for at least two hours after each flush, much like a bacterial and viral aerosol. These microbes then settle onto surfaces, including toothbrushes. So if you don't want to be brushing your teeth with the contents of your toilet, best to keep that seat down when you flush.”
So, toilet lids are there for a purpose. And really, if we are wise, they should be used for that purpose. And whilst it may be galling for we wee men to say it, women have been right all along. We wee men need to put the toilet seat, and its lid, down
And to finish. In researching this item I put in possibly my most improbable Google question ever: “How to use a toilet seat?”
Guess what?
Google gave me 7,690,000 responses!
Who knew?

The Handsome Sampson Diaries: The One That Sucks.

It is just as well no-one will read this diary.
If they did,  Aucklanders would really know what I think of them.
They suck.
We should call this place Suckland. First off reason is Suckland’s reaction to the 9.9% rates increase. For goodness sake, don’t they realise that is only an average? Some will get a lesser increase; some higher. But the average will get what they deserve—an average. Ironic, really, because what they get in return is an average council (Ha Ha, Bev would like that).
But that is not my fault. The council are mean people and it seems all but the Pennies have dropped on me. What about that proposed move to build a new Council Chamber? Yes, they all wanted it. Once. They all said they didn’t like the four-minute walk down to the Town Hall, especially when it was raining and especially when it was with me with all that abuse and all. What was it you all said—it was bad enough being rained on, but shat upon too? Worth spending a few million dollars of ratepayer money to avoid that. That is what you said.
Now you say you didn’t say it. And now I have to say I didn’t say it. And it is left to the CEO to say he said it, because I said to say it because I didn’t want me having to say I said it. Or having said to him to say it.
Why is it that these days nobody takes anything I say (even if I didn’t say it) at face value? Answer me that Bevan. Oh, you are not reading this are you? Wish you were. I wish a lot of things. I wish Bernard Osman would stop picking on me. I wish Stephen Joyce would go away. I wish Ports of Auckland would go away. I wish Auckland Transport would go away (and give me a carpark at Henderson). I wish I had my time over again with Bevan—over and over again.
Most of all, I wish everyone would go away and leave me alone. Just because I am an elected official, does that make you think you own me? Obviously, you think it does. But, be warned (even though you are not reading this. Are you?).
If you persist on picking on me, I will not stand again. And what will you get? John Banks?
You deserve him.
Suck on that Suckland.

Everything Trivial

There is no doubting and, increasingly for some, no avoiding the popularity of quiz nights. Many of us have participated in at least one, for quizzes proliferate in a number of guises, whether weekly down at the pub, less often for charity, and as fund-raisers for schools, clubs and associations.
Most often they are great fun, a great night out, in great company. Yes, they can be extremely competitive and some people may enter them with a greater intensity than they, the quiz and their fellow team members deserve. That was one factor in the demise of the home board game Trivial Pursuit.
But if we go into them with good intent and with a good team—and by good, I mean friendly—a well-run quiz can be deeply, though not initially obviously, satisfying. For example you may not feel that you have a great general knowledge and, as another example, of sport have none at all. But you will be surprised—nobody knows everything, and everybody knows something. Your team may be asked 30 questions; I am prepared to bet you that among them there likely will be at least one to which only you know the answer. That is why in the professional and lucrative world of quiz shows on TV the most feared teams are those with a gender and age balance—they cover all the bases.
Conversely, if you get a question wrong and by force of persuasion got your team to agree to it, then a good team will offer up no recrimination—after all, we all make mistakes and it is like a cricket fielder who drops a catch; you dare not criticise them for that, for the next catch may be your own—for the same result.
I was invited to a few quizzes earlier in life, but nothing regular. These days—or, to be more specific, these Wednesdays—I am to be found regularly down at the local with a team that can number as few as three or as much as seven. Our success is mixed, but we are always thereabouts and last week we won it and, separately, the bar-tab. We won the bar tab again this week, but were third to last on the quiz, such are the vagaries of quizzing. Our team is about as balanced as we can make it: three journalists (which some may say is the least balanced of all professions), an extraordinarily gifted heath practitioner, a teenager and a Vicar. With that combination, we can usually cover most bases and when we can’t, well, God (is there to) help us.
There are less trivial pursuits I could undertake, but at my age and with my mania for minutiae, quiz nights suit me well enough. Besides, there is little better vocation than forging lasting friendships, and in that regard my Wednesday quizzing has been wonderfully successful. No question about it.

Hamilton Public Library Book of Lists: 2015.

Chilly nights and clear days again herald the advent of winter, and with it the Hamilton Public Library’s Annual Book of Lists—those books, periodicals and other media that captured the interest of the good folk of Hamilton over the past 12 months. As always, Fryday is indebted to the librarians of Hamilton for whom a book is both a passion and a blessed escape.

1. Most Popular Career Book (Female): A Life in Hairdressing.
2. Most Popular Career Book (Male): A Life in Hairdressing.
3.  Most Popular Entertainment Book: Hamilton—The Inspiration for Rocky Horror Picture Show, by Richard O’Brien.
4.  Most Popular Autobiography: My Life as a Hamilton Hairdresser, by Richard O’Brien.
5.  Most Popular Cook Book: KFC Menu.
6.   Most Popular Sport Book (Equal First): The Chiefs—Almost Making Us Proud to Live in Hamilton.
7.   Most Popular Sport Book (Equal First): The Fall and the Fall of the Auckland Blues.
8.   Most Stolen Book:  A Guide to Auckland’s Most Expensive Homes, and Their Security Systems.
9.   Least Popular Book: Living in the Shadow of Auckland.
10.   Most Popular Magazine (Male): Straight Furrow, The Magazine for Heterosexual Farmers.
11.   Second Most Popular Magazine (Male):  The Next Best Thing—Bovine Beauties on the Farm.
12.   Most Popular Magazine (Female):  Time of the Month—Working With Your Hairdresser.
13.   Most Popular Computer Book: A Step-by-Step Picture Guide to Finding Google on Your Computer
14.   Second Most Popular Computer Book: A Step-by-Step Picture Guide to Turning on Your Computer.
15.   Second Most Popular Magazine (Female): She’s a Cow!!!!! How to deal with his bovine infatuation.  A Seven-Part Series.
16.  Most Requested Book: Short, Back and Sides From the Front—Gallipoli Inspired Hairstyles for the Lesbian Community.
17. Best War Book: What a Do!—Hamilton Hairdressers who served at Gallipoli.
18. Best Farming Periodical: Why Only Cows? A Study of the Post-Colonial Genderisation and Stereolisation of the New Zealand Dairy Industry as it Equates to the Objectification as Cows as the Sole Providers of Dairy Milk. (A Waikato University Women’s Studies Department Publication).
19. Most Popular University Document: Auckland University Enrolment Form.
20. Most Popular ‘How To’ Book: Knots—What We Can Learn From Fifty Shades of Grey.
21. Most Popular Council Publication: God is not that thirsty—Hamilton City Council Liquor Licensing Laws.
22. Most Popular Life Affirmation Title: God Knows— Homilies for Hamiltonians (updated to include Hamilton City Council Long Term Plan).
23. Most Popular Military Title (still): Fags, Fogs, and Frigates—Hamilton’s Contribution to the Royal New Zealand Navy.
24. Favourite Parenting Book: Kids and Cows—God’s Gifts To Us All.
25. Favourite DVD: Fast & Furious—CCTV Footage of Auckland Drivers.
26. Favourite Music DVD: K-Tel’s Kuntry Klassics Vol.1 (also available on VHS and Beta).
27. Favourite DVD (Adult Section): Country Calendar Uncensored.
28. Favourite DVD (Young Adult): Twerking, It is, like,  sooooo NOW!!!
29. Most Anticipated Book: Hello Sailor—A Follow Up to Fags, Fogs, and Frigates.
30. Most Popular Book of the Year: Fifty Shades of Grey — Where It All Began, A Homage to Hamilton, by E.L. James (in appreciation).

Going down in the last shower

It is said that one can successfully dampen one’s rampant sexual desires by taking a cold shower. That may well be true, though I am yet to see or seek credible scientific evidence of it.
Nor do I see, at this aged time of life, a need to dampen sexual desire.
Quite the reverse.
However, there may be those who find it helpful—among them, those committed to a celibate life, those for whom any form of sexual desire is a moral affront and a personifestation (sic) of the male subjugation and objectification of women (Waikato University Women’s Studies) and anyone living at Gloryvale.
For the rest of us, attempting to stem rampant desire is a most often needless and, more often still, impossible exercise. One would have to give up watching Game of Thrones, for example. Or find some other rationale for the existence of Kim Kardashian.
So, it is with mix of sympathy and empathy that we read in this morning’s Herald of the couple whose car rolled off the end of Birkenhead Wharf last night and into the Waitemata Harbour—with them in it. Fortunately, no-one was injured and the car and couple were successfully recovered.
Now, there may be any number of reasons why car and couple were parked up on Birkenhead Wharf at 9.00 at night. The couple say they were about to go for a walk—a most laudable vocation. There may also be reasons the car decided to go for a walk of its own—the police say it may have been the hand-brake taking a break.
But forgive me for opining that a more “amore” scenario would have been that ardour was such that a handbrake was kicked, and chance and circumstance and car collectively decided that a cold shower was called for.
So they provided it.