General Jamban

I like visiting my in-laws but the shit thing is, there is no place to park my car in that neighbourhood except for the neighbourhood’s communal toilet - a grassy patch stretch along the roadside, where all the pet’s from that neighbourhood and other neighbourhoods nearby pay their debts to nature.

You see, that’s okay when the sun is still your visual aid. But when night falls, the moon’s inherent ability as a visual aid pales in comparison, you see.

So, walking back to my car, I have to entrust my Blackberry to moonlight as a torch, which, in this case, provides little reinforcement to er, moon light, to somehow help me through this shit-uation. In a futile feat to navigate a clean path around the faeces convention that is present each night, one only can leave it to luck on whether one will end up with clean soles or unclean soles.

When luck is ditches you, it's better just to have one shitty sole.

Or better yet, one shitty sole that is not smudged on cat poo.

Or better yet, one shitty sole that is smudged on dried out cat or dog poo.

Or better yet, one clean sole but you’re not hopping into your own car.