150 years ago, it was reported that the âcommon manâ, the man who would have been on the Clapham Omnibus, had he been able to afford the fare, was frequently found to have up to 3â of raw sewage floating round in his cellar. He had a cesspit, but it cost one shilling to have the ânight-soil manâ haul it away, and with daily wages of around three shillings, it was cheaper to let it overflow into the cellar of the house that he didnât own anywayâ¦.
The sewage often leaked into the water supply, and hundreds of people died in a series of Cholera epidemics. Our Victorian forefathers clubbed together and arranged for the sewage to be piped out into the oceans, where we didnât need to think about it anymore. We didnât drink the sea water â so that was alright thenâ¦.
The British have always had a love/hate relationship with their shite. We like to pretend it doesnât exist. Where the Germans have toilets that allow them to closely inspect their shite for worrisome signs of worm riddled undercooked pork sausage, the British prefer an âout of sight, never existedâ model.
Only our own shite, of course, we remain fascinated by what fellow bottoms get up to â the âTour of the Brighton Sewersâ is alarmingly regularly sold out – it can only be a matter of time before the first civil partnership ceremony is held in the recently revamped Sewer Tourist Centre under Pier 260â¦
The Brighton Sewers have had to have special lighting installed, water tight doors, and alarm systems fitted to comply with Health and Safety rules governing the well being of the passing Turd watchers. Our Victorian forefathers didnât think of thatâ¦
Quite what happens when the local skate-boarders discover that the circular tunnels and sloping walls are just perfect for their sport doesnât bear thinking about. No doubt the Water Board will only be allowed to pass water at approved hours, specially sanitised, with on-site First Aid centres for skate-boarders who get carried away by the excitement.
Some idea of what is in store for the Water Authorities can be gleaned from the SAS. Not that SAS, another one. This SAS can sit motionless (sic) for days on end, watching, waiting; occasionally gleaning whispered information from a fellow conspirator. Until finally the butt clenching moment of exhilaration, the moment their anally retentive lives have been borne for. A wave is coming ashore!
They rush into the sea clutching their surf boards, paddling through the foaming surf, and stand erect, majestic, conquerors of the gallons of sea water; but wait, what is that â a small brown speck on the horizon. Yep, âtis a small turd. The output of someoneâs bottom. The fly in their ointment.
Back to the shore they rush, and demand that no further turds be allowed to spoil their sport. Millions must be spent sanitising the entire ocean, turds must return whence they came, no longer to despoil the common manâs sport. If necessary we must keep our output in our cellars, anything but in the way of their surf boards. Surfers against Sewage was born.
A militant lot they are, but well organised. Some amongst their number have formed a Charity, that must-have accessory for the well-accoutered disgruntled citizen. They have a Surfing Museum, paid for by grants from âLeader 4, North Devon AONB, Devon County Council (Exeter Airport Fund) (Ed: If you find the toilet facilities at Exeter Airport not up to standard â now you know where the money wentâ¦), ooh, and âcommunity grantsâ from the new Fullabrook Wind Farm (and who funded the Wind Farm I ask myself, just whoâs money is being dished out to these turd dodgers? Yet couldnât be bothered to find the answer.)
The Museum is there to display âhistorical artifactsâ from the Surfing community, which has been in existence for all of 40 years; and to âeducate the publicâ, presumably of the horrors of surfing amongst the common turds. Still, fair play to them, they netted near 70 grand of grants and are sub letting part of their building back to the council for more dosh. The guiding light appears to be one Peter Robinson, who will beÂ âdonating the majority of his own collection of historical artifacts âat a suitable pointâ in the future. When heâs not busy being Company Secretary, or being appointed Museum Director âon a 0.8FTE (Full Time Equivalent) post, in order to manage the new Phase 2 design & build project, develop the fundraising & collection, and work towards full time openingâ. (Ed: I am reliably informed that a 0.8FTE post means that you only have to work four days a week, and still have plenty of time to sit on the beach
turd surf watching)
They are very right-on and ambitious for the future; they have enlisted the help of Ben Fogle to publicise their new campaign â not just reclaiming the oceans for their enjoyment, but the beaches too!
Help Keep Britainâs Beaches Barefoot Friendlyâ¦sponsored by Barefoot Wine from California.
Is it not every right-on surfers right to walk barefoot on the beach, unhindered by signs of human life? (Ed: Canât you stub your toe on a razor clam, or a weaver fish, or half an oyster shell then?) Last year their volunteers picked up 2.5 tonnes of litter to keep the surfing beaches barefoot friendlyâ¦I quote from their literature.
One of the most found items of litter is cigarette butts with approximately 4.5 Trillion cigarette butts are littered across the world each year. Laid down end-to-end they would reach around Great Britainâs coastline over 4000 times.
Disgusting creatures, human beings; non-surfing, crapping, smoking, non-right-on, they shouldnât be allowed to leave any trace of themselves on our beautiful beaches.
Itâs our âuman rite, innit?
Coming shortly: Para-gliders demand an end to windfarmsâ¦
Anna Raccoon (Having lowered the tone of the place, creeps back into obscurity again…)