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HtmlToText

t.src=v;s=b.getelementsbytagname(e)[0];s.parentnode.insertbefore(t,s)}(window, document,'script','https://connect.facebook.net/en_us/fbevents.js'); fbq('init', '1807902649438956'); fbq('track', "pageview"); pages home about me pr requests product reviews things i've learned sunday, 8 april 2018 the confessions of a public toilet butler if you’ve followed my blog over the last 5 years you’ll have probably noticed i have written a lot about dung. specifically, dung that has been produced by semi-feral children. in this latest instalment, i’ve come to realise that kids are amazing at not only desensitising you completely to brown matter, but also making their excremental movements an entertaining topic of conversation. am i right in thinking there’s just something about their absolute joy in the pooing process that unless you’re a miserable git, you can’t help but laugh? picture the scene, i’m in m shed museum in bristol and i’ve got both kids when the brown alert gets parped by the eldest, and i’m dragged along to the toilet. we’re in a spacious cubicle. i can’t describe the stench, so i won’t bother. it’s sickening. this is a day’s worth of filth festering inside an enclosed space. i’m holding the baby just hoping this is going to be a quick one but knowing in my heart this is going to be a 10 minute job. aside from the sensory overload from the flavoursome aromas i’m happy because i’ve missed the boy and just picked him up off his grandparents and i’m looking forward to taking him sledging. this is par for the course of parenting. grit your teeth and get on with it. the conversation begins. “daddy i’m not gonna poo unless you leave the room” “ok fine. i’ll stare at the wall.” “i want you to go though. go away.” “no, don’t worry, look, i’m staring at the wall.” panic sets in. there’s no way i’m leaving this cubicle. i need to see he’s washed his hands, and i’m not sure he’s familiar enough with locks yet. i mentally picture a scene of carnage with him locking himself in. fatherhood is full of paranoia like that. the seconds pass and i hear the gentle plops of progress along with satisfied grunts. i mimic the grunts. can’t help it. laughing ensues. but now i’m just getting impatient. “please hurry up.” “no. i want to sit here and poo alllll night long. hahahaha.” i hide my smile. that’s a good one. “seriously mate, it’s really hard holding leo up all this time, my arm’s killing me.” frustration in my voice. i’ve been carrying him for ages, and it’s not like i can put him on the piss soaked floor of this hellhole. he’s also bored and doing his universal struggle movements to signify “put me on the damn floor so i can explore.” nothing good ever comes of putting a baby on the floor in a public toilet. when you’re on your own with one you have to pee sitting down while they flail around in your lap, grabbing at the toilet roll. i lift him up onto my shoulders in a desperate attempt to keep him “entertained” and i take a toilet selfie because this is the type of crap a dad blogger feels like he needs to do in ridiculous situations like this. absolutely fed up. charlie sees an opening to get one up on his baby brother. “it stinks in here dunnit. why don’t you put leo on the floor so he can get all smelly and get pee on ‘is clothes!” “no way, i’m not doing that!!” more laughing ensues. haha, very droll. “please hurry up. how much longer are you going to take?” “i dunno, i think i got about 10 more poos to go.” “ok. keep going.” “daddy, what happens when all the people in the world die and there’s no one left in the world?” [audible loud laughing from man in neighbouring cubicle] “uhh. wow. that’s a good question.” where the hell did that come from? i thought of stephen hawking’s prediction that life on earth will become unsustainable, and i pictured elon musk’s happy face, colonising mars. “well maybe, well, what if everyone didn’t die, but actually some of them escaped to a different planet so they could live there instead of dying here...?” “but why would they do that?” “i guess they didn’t like the idea of dying! look mate seriously it stinks here, it’s gross, we need to get out of here. please hurry up.” [laughing in next cubicle intensifies.] after 10 minutes the ordeal was over. i could start a podcast, ' awkward conversations i have in public toilets for the amusement of stranger s'. it happens a lot. maybe this is weird, but i enjoy these scenarios, all the weird moments we get thrust into as parents. one day, my eccentric lord won’t need his butler’s stimulating conversation or helpful advice when we’re in public toilets. so i’d better make the most of it. i’m just glad i don’t need to wipe his arse any more. posted by at 13:16 4 comments: email this blogthis! share to twitter share to facebook share to pinterest labels: musings location: bristol, uk saturday, 17 march 2018 burnham-on-sea: cheap thrills, chips and charity shops. if you ask me what my perfect day out with a baby is, i'll say get the little guy in a sling and take him to a run down seaside town for an afternoon of gawping at england's most interesting and weatherbeaten people, and shameless browsing of charity shops. my wife hates shopping but i love it, in fact i'd go as far as saying one of my simplest pleasures in life is to go at a snail's pace through a load of charity shops and whittle away time. luckily, i have a very obliging baby who seems to be cut from my cloth, and enjoys the browsing experience as much as i do. today we went to one of my favourite haunts, burnham-on-sea in somerset. let me tell you, this is a paradise for the chazza shops. it's a god damn mecca! quirky road leading to the high street, aka shoppers' paradise it's a joy to walk around. you've got a decrepid high street where almost every shop has random capitals on their signs that make absolutely no sense. they have also been given logos that look like they were designed by a child . burnham-on-sea is eye porn, pure and simple. it's a feast for the senses, and your inner typography nerd will be screaming! it's also full of pensioners, who inevitably croak it. their lifelong hoards of awesome, unusual or terrible items are then gifted to the charity shops, so when you wander round them, your senses are assaulted with all things 80s, toys you remember playing with as a kid, and also things that are so tasteless you wonder how the hell anyone bought them in the first place. they are a collection of unseen stories, from the tragic to the awesome. you'll see things that are weird, bizarre, cool, retro, awful, trashy, and wonderful all at the same time. you can't see the stories but you can feel them in your hands. what else do i find interesting about them? maybe it's the smell of dead people and house clearances coupled with the tk maxx effect: you never know what you're going to find, and one day you find that one item that speaks to you on a primal level and screams "i am yours, motherfucker. take me home!" locking on to target, please wait take me baby. i'm solo dadding for the next three nights while wife has a girly holiday. today in burnham was fucking excellent because i did all the things my wife would never agree to, charity shops included, she absolutely hates them! it was the perfect adventure with mini-me (the eldest is at his grandparents for the night, lucky me!) i decided we'd do this properly, and find a greasy spoon, after all it's character building for the young lad. this place did not disappoint and the locals were extremely welcoming. he lapped up the attention of course, and had a procession of lovely old ladies shaking his hand. this reminded me of when he was a newborn, and it's an old lady's god given right to shake your baby's hand, pinch his cheek and politely enquire about his weight. oooh yeah! but what or who is bos? did they forget an apostrophe? anyway, the kid was getting all the attention, and milking the shit out of it. no interest in his fish fingers and chips whatsoever,

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Whois Information

Whois is a protocol that is access to registering information. You can reach when the website was registered, when it will be expire, what is contact details of the site with the following informations. In a nutshell, it includes these informations;

Domain name:
dadsdiary.co.uk

Registrant:
Harry Oram

Registrant type:
UK Individual

Registrant's address:
188 Hanham Road
Bristol
Bristol
BS15 8NU
United Kingdom

Data validation:
Nominet was able to match the registrant's name and address against a 3rd party data source on 09-Nov-2013

Registrar:
123-Reg Limited t/a 123-reg [Tag = 123-REG]
URL: http://www.123-reg.co.uk

Relevant dates:
Registered on: 09-Nov-2013
Expiry date: 09-Nov-2019
Last updated: 02-Nov-2016

Registration status:
Registered until expiry date.

Name servers:
ns.123-reg.co.uk 212.67.202.2
ns2.123-reg.co.uk 62.138.132.21

WHOIS lookup made at 17:12:39 04-Aug-2017

--
This WHOIS information is provided for free by Nominet UK the central registry
for .uk domain names. This information and the .uk WHOIS are:

Copyright Nominet UK 1996 - 2017.

You may not access the .uk WHOIS or use any data from it except as permitted
by the terms of use available in full at http://www.nominet.uk/whoisterms,
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repackaging, recompilation, redistribution or reuse (B) obscuring, removing
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register. Access may be withdrawn or restricted at any time.

  REFERRER http://www.nominet.org.uk

  REGISTRAR Nominet UK

SERVERS

  SERVER co.uk.whois-servers.net

  ARGS dadsdiary.co.uk

  PORT 43

  TYPE domain

OWNER

  ORGANIZATION Harry Oram

TYPE
UK Individual

ADDRESS
188 Hanham Road
Bristol
Bristol
BS15 8NU
United Kingdom
Data validation:
Nominet was able to match the registrant's name and address against a 3rd party data source on 09-Nov-2013

DOMAIN

  SPONSOR 123-Reg Limited t/a 123-reg [Tag = 123-REG]

  CREATED 2013-11-09

  CHANGED 2016-11-02

STATUS
Registered until expiry date.

NSERVER

  NS.123-REG.CO.UK 212.67.202.2

  NS2.123-REG.CO.UK 62.138.132.21

  NAME dadsdiary.co.uk

DISCLAIMER
This WHOIS information is provided for free by Nominet UK the central registry
for .uk domain names. This information and the .uk WHOIS are:
Copyright Nominet UK 1996 - 2017.
You may not access the .uk WHOIS or use any data from it except as permitted
by the terms of use available in full at http://www.nominet.uk/whoisterms,
which includes restrictions on: (A) use of the data for advertising, or its
repackaging, recompilation, redistribution or reuse (B) obscuring, removing
or hiding any or all of this notice and (C) exceeding query rate or volume
limits. The data is provided on an 'as-is' basis and may lag behind the
register. Access may be withdrawn or restricted at any time.

  REGISTERED yes

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