Pigeon On A Urinal
The sun is shining over Soho Square. It’s Saturday.
What better thing to do than… sit on a urinal? WTF?
But that’s exactly what Philip decided to do:
“Phil, mate, what the fuck? Doesn’t it stink of piss up there?”
As it turns out, Phil’s nasal passages were damaged years ago after becoming trapped by the chord of a hairdryer.
“It was right next to a pile of shit. Nightmare. I was stuck there for hours. Couldn’t move.” He said. “Had to hold my breath for that long, nothing ever smelt the same again.”
Phil describes this affliction as a ‘gift’ as it means he has practically all of London’s urinals at his disposal.
“It’s great. Wherever I go, I can always find a place to sit. Sometimes, they can be quite warm too.”
Smell or no smell, mate, rather you than me!