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Yosemite National Park
1 out of 5 stars
I went camping alone to test my manhood, and also because Jotaro didn’t pick up the phone. First, there were no bears around to fight. I kept being told not to do things because of bears that I couldn’t see and couldn’t even begin fighting. After giving up on finding bears, I set up camp. Things started looking up after I opened some wine, started a fire, and bit into some disgusting American chocolate.
But then I had to go take a shit. The bathroom was all the way at the other side of the campground, and there was a sign on the door warning me that the squirrels carry plague. Why do people talk about invisible bears when there are actual plague squirrels? I investigated the seat for squirrels (and it was a pit toilet, but at least I didn’t have to squat).
It all took a turn for the worst when I closed the door and found out that the door didn’t go down all the way. What kind of privacy is this? Why don’t Americans have doors that go down to the floor? Who needs to see my beautiful underwear? I sat on the toilet, feeling trepidation.
I heard scuttling. I sent Silver Chariot out to protect me at my most vulnerable moment, but that plague squirrel dodged right underneath the open divider and I came within two leaps of the black death. I had to cling to the top of the stall to escape its viciousness.
Absolutely do not recommend taking a shit anywhere in the United States, but certainly nowhere with the plague.
Hong Kong Biking Tours
2 out of 5 stars
I came to the opposite end of the world to get away from the plague squirrels. I didn’t actually know this was a biking tour until I arrived and I was given a bike and a helmet, which would’ve messed up my hair so I refused to wear it. The bike ride was pleasant, except for the part where I ended up getting sunburn and now there’s a white strap across my chest. Host offered me a coat and I refused that as well because resisting the elements is a test of warrior spirit.
Now, the bathroom. It was all squat toilets along the trail. I thought that I’d gotten better at them, but every time I went for a deuxième coup, I’d slowly fall backwards. A Russian finally took pity on me and showed me an alternative squatting method, and Polnareff was no longer backed up! Thanks for the squat tips, Alexei!
Kari’s Hákarl
1 out of 5 stars
If I gave 0 stars, I would. I was having a pleasant time in Iceland, looking at the lava flows, admiring the sheep, watching the waves. Then I got hungry, so I dropped into the first place I found. I thought it smelled a little off, like a Rocquefort left outside. The owner of the place saw that I was French and immediately became interested in serving me the house special, shark meat. “It’s a real warrior’s meal,” said the owner. I told him to give me a plateful.
Hákarl humbled me, and got me slightly drunk. I ate all of it because I don’t retreat from a fight, no matter what DIO says, but the owner could tell I was in a world of regret, so he directed me to the bathroom. I was suddenly surrounded by frosted glass on all sides, facing the main street, watching men and women pass by right in front of me. I knew they couldn’t see me, but it was too much pressure. I couldn’t even piss.
Awful!
A field in Languedoc
4 out of 5
It was wonderful to be back in France! The bathrooms are predictable, no squatting, no frosted glass, no plagued squirrels. I was all set to enjoy my nation’s toilets until nature called me along a road in Languedoc and there was nothing for it but to stop the car and run towards the nearest outhouse.
It was a really peaceful experience, listening to long grass swaying in the wind, until a cow forcefully poked her head in. I don’t know why she wanted to observe, but beyond licking my face, I was able to finish what I’d started.
English rest stop on the way to Gatwick
1 out of 5
I was in England. What else do I need to say? I got out of the plane and was surrounded by English people, smelling of pasties and mutilated baguettes. Why must the English put pickled turnips in sandwiches? No carbohydrate is safe, not that I’m eating any, because I’m on keto for gains.
Of course all the gravy gets to me. I rush through the rest stop, past the hordes of slow-moving American tourists looking for historical sites along the A23. Why are they all walking along the right side?
I arrive at the bathrooms. There are so many of them, and all the doors go down to the floor. Could the English have done something right? I gratefully enter and lock the door behind me, unleashing hell.
But then I go to flush. Where the hell is the flush mechanism? I have never encountered the same flush anywhere in the UK. It’s like they delight in making someone feel foolish with their pants down. After thoroughly caressing the top of the toilet, I finally depress something that flushes.
Take that, England!
The Kujo Household
5 out of 5
Finally reunited with Jotaro! He seemed uninterested in combat and instead, when pressed to speak, talked about shipping bluefin tuna from Italy to Japan and whether the population would ever recover. I wish Kakyoin was still here to talk about videogames instead.
4 out of 5
I’d like to downrate the Kujo household. Toilet works fine and it talks to me, but it’s non-threatening. I like the bidet. I’m able to comb my hair without Iggy jumping into my face and farting.
3 out of 5
Mr. Joestar arrived. Holly accidentally set a place for Avdol and we all pretended she hadn’t.
1 out of 5
Jotaro seems to be aging in reverse and that constipates me.