All Things Bright and Beautiful

All hangovers are vile, but those which also entail a nasty dose of the squits are particularly revolting.

After a heavy night on the tequila sunrises in Cyprus last year, I was unfortunate enough to experience the full blown pig behind the eyes/erupting intestines experience. This would have been bad enough in Blighty, but given the Greek Cypriot genius for drain construction it was hellish.

It mystifies me why these people experienced 80 odd years of good belt and braces British governance, and still can't sort out their sewerage arrangements. Their drains are so useless that they won't accept a single sheet of toilet paper without blocking and disgorging their contents all over your en suite bathroom. Consequently, you are expected to dispose of your wipings in a metal bin thoughtfully provided next to the big white telephone.

This is a distasteful practice at the best of times, but it is most emphatically not on when one is suffering a nasty attack of the squits.

This was my predicament. In my befuddled state I decided to go into a nearby hotel and avail myself of their facilities. Better some effluent on their floor than mine thought I. As I reversed my posterior onto the khazi, I happened to glance down only to see three cockroaches emerging from the toilet brim with their feelers a go- go.

These weren't any old cockroaches, these were Giant American Cockroaches and the bastards had WINGS. I was out of there quicker than an Olympic sprinter with a wasp up his arse.

They have Giant Hissing Cockroaches in Madagascar. Apparently there are sickos out there who like to keep them as pets. I think I'll give Madagascar a miss.