Five types of pub toilet graffiti that just leave you baffled

GONE to the pub toilet without your phone? Don’t panic – there’s plenty of mystifying graffiti to keep you entertained instead. Like this:

Offers of sex

Pretty much every pub toilet will feature a message like ‘For sex call Alan’ followed by a phone number. The mystery is whether Alan is genuinely inviting you to give him a ring, or if the poor unsuspecting man is being pranked by a mate. And if it’s the former, has Alan never heard of Tinder? Or is it such a cesspit of human misery that he fancies his chances more in the bog of the Crown and Sceptre?

Art works

There is only one category of pub toilet artwork, and that’s penises. They’re usually huge, excessively hairy and squirting out an inordinately large amount of jizz. But are they accurate representations of their owners or something that the artist aspires to? It’s probably best not to attempt to find out.

Shit philosophy

Even the most nonsensical phrases sound like ancient wisdom when you’re pissed. ’You must first lose yourself in order to find yourself’ is complete gibberish when you’re sober, but after you’ve had a few Jägerbombs you return to your friends and excitedly pass on your this nugget of wisdom. Expecting them to nod their heads in sage agreement, you’re instead told to stop talking shite.


Many poets, from Dorothy Parker to Dylan Thomas, were massive boozers, but did they ever write a limerick on the wall of a pub toilet? Probably not, because the one you read in the gents about the man from Nantucket doesn’t scan, rhyme or make sense so being pissed doesn’t seem to help the creative process.

Strange abuse

‘Donna fellates potatoes’ catches your attention as you sit on the loo doing your business. Does she actually, you wonder. They’d have to be pretty small as a baking one wouldn’t fit in her mouth. And why? Is it a sex thing? Or a baseless accusation by a spurned lover. Before you know it, 20 minutes have passed and your mate’s come in to check you haven’t slipped in a pool of piss and knocked yourself out.

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All restorative benefits of Bank Holiday to completely wear off by lunch

EVERY positive side effect of a four-day weekend will have been undone by the time office workers scuttle out for a sausage roll at one o’clock.

By this afternoon meetings, emails and colleagues will have reset staff to the soulless husks they were before they enjoyed an extra-long weekend of eating chocolate eggs and watching TV hungover.

Office drone Martin Bishop said: “I thought I’d feel good for at least a fortnight. But even during the morning catch-up I could feel the misery creeping in.

“Fond memories of gorging on Cadbury’s finest and indulging in daytime drinking quickly faded away as I got down to a job I’ve remembered how much I hate, only to be replaced by the familiar emotions of dread, anxiety and existential despair.

“I fired up a spreadsheet to try and distract myself but that didn’t work. The rows and rows of empty cells were merely a grim reminder of the futility of existence.

“There’s nothing to look forward to now except the pathetic, three-day long May Bank Holiday. Then it’s unceasing hard graft until the stress of organising a summer holiday. Although hopefully I might be dead by then.”