Microurinalia - a word I just made up whereby one finds oneself in a precariously small space in which to urinate.
Enter Dimboola: a small town about 100km’s (+/- 200km) from Bendigo, Victoria.
If one wishes to depart with their dearly produced liquid waste in a claustrophobic micro-hallway then look no further than Dimboola. One may encounter the soft yet cold embrace of one’s new best friends at the right and left quarters, by the bowls club just off the main road.
While you squeeze your way through the narrow chamber you may have a similar revelation, as your dear Toilet Journalist did, that the designer of this interesting piece of bathroom obscurity may have been a bit mean. It seems as if they may have tried to simulate the feeling of being a soft piece of poo passing through a hardened bowel belonging (perhaps) to a drinker of many years that held in farts at tremendous pressures for long periods causing the body to react by strengthening said bowels. They may have wanted you to experience being a turd. Being a worthless piece of shyte. Conversely, this effect may have been intended for a far kinder purpose. To know yourself as a thing being pushed through a solid wormhole is to know yourself as you are in the universe, in space and time. Seeing yourself as a thing in a space that you can’t control and that may trap you and be your end, at the mercy of your environment, is kind of comforting. Or space/ labour/ building equipment/ building materials were expensive or something… I’m not a construction supervisor.