No one's given any thought to the syrup leaking in the pissoires here eternally without pause. The supermarket was bad enough, through the festive season particularly. But one was more prone in the conveniences, more exposed and vulnerable. It was always taken in stride in this republic, not a flicker, slipping completely beneath the radar. How much something, something just this afternoon at OneKM, love or kisses sweet. Brief pee; limited damage. Couple uncles were at the mirrors with their combs; couple cubicles occupied. It would be impossible to quantify the derangement. Were those tunes in fact AI creations? The bland dribble certainly fitted. There was a beautiful, lightly coloured chanteuse highlighted on BBC, huge commercial phenomenon, with the question hanging whether she was in fact flesh & blood, a bona fide citizen of the meatworld? It was still unknown, it seemed, even after record breaking success. A kind of Elena Ferrante of the musical scene, twisted couple notches here. Years the tickle had been continuing at the better class malls, where the plush, roomy conveniences, the a/c curtains made powerful, powerful draws. There was nothing of the Japanese courtesy products that they deployed in their loos in Nippon involved; the tone was almost whisper thin in this case, breathily cooing into your ear. Impossible to mask unwanted eruptions with that kinda pitter patter. Did they flute tuxedo smoothies in the ladies here, tickling the gals where it hurt? It needed investigation.
NB. See Japanese bathrooms online. It was a wonderland; Disney level. You could bet the systems were installed all through Mar-a-Lago, and no doubt the remodelled White House, along with the chandeliers & gold leaf.
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