That title is pure plagiarism - it was the title of a book that I decided not to buy. I still regret not having it. Oh, my aim's pretty good and my boots stay dry, but it's the sort of thing I like having on my bookshelf if only for the quirky title.
It also reminds me of a lady I once knew. She was one of those women who is very pleasant to look at. It took some work, mind: I personally watched her change her clothes three times before she was sufficiently satisfied with her appearance to venture out - on a picnic.
I should have known better than to drag her up a mountain, and so should her boyfriend. Oh, she made it to the top and looked absolutely gorgeous there, but as we were standing admiring the view (As one does) she upped and said she needed the toilet.
'Widdle?' I asked thinking that the situation needed some clarification: sometimes, it really IS necessary to go the actual WC. She nodded, blushing. As you know, beautiful women do not widdle. That is for ordinary people, so she was rather embarrassed.
I pointed out a convenient bush and suggested that I keep cavey for her, but no: top of the mountain or not, it was a toilet of the water-borne sort that she wanted.
Her slightly less smitten than before boyfriend accompanied her down the mountain and to the nearest filling station with a rest room. I imagine it must have taken close on an hour to get there and her bladder must've been so full that her eyeballs were bobbing.
Respect. For me, there are limits to how much I will suffer for being a lady, but this girl deserved the 'lady' award with brass knobs on plus a medal.
Takes all sorts to make a world, you know.
Today's pic: miles and miles and not a WC to be seen (and I'm not talking about 'Winston Churchill' either - just in case all this MLK-ing has confused folks)