Okay. It's Friday night, my wife has gone out, grasping two bottles of wine to her bosom and carrying a concoction of baked couss-couss (if that's how you spell it) and over-browned vegetables for "Book Club" with the girls. I drove her off to the secret girls rendevous and had to circle back because she forgot to take the book. 'Nuff said.
Anyhow I have just had three glasses of wine while watching a recorded session of The Drum and am now prepared to speak frankly. Here is the naked truth:
If you are a bloke, sit on a bomb aimer and accidentally pee a bit, it will go straight into your pants. And possibly into your boots as well. If you are sufficiently endowed to the point that your three piece suite always points to the ground, then please ignore this post.
But for the rest of us using a bomb aimer, you have to take precautions.
1. Take your pants off and hang them on a tree.
2. Take the aforesaid boots off and place under said tree.
3. Do your best to pass a brownish facsimile of a Council parking inspector and perform the requisite cleanup.
4. Realise that the hole you dug isn't big enough for the brown Council parking inspector. So dig another hole beside it and transfer said parking inspector across to the deeper hole.
5. Light the match to burn the bum fodder and realise that the new hole is a bit too close to the tree.
6. Try to retrieve pants from said burning tree.
7. Manage to rescue boots only and return to camp in shame behind a 20 acre fire.
8. Suggest to family that the dingos/ sand flies/mossies/crocodiles/tourists have got a bit much and it's time to strike camp. Drive off quickly, always hoping that the family does not notice that you are wearing no pants.
That, gentlemen and ladies, is why I am building a camper with a dunny in it.
Keith
