Romans went to war on diet of pizza, dig shows

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scotsman

John Innes

ROMAN soldiers went to war on egg and pizza according to archaeological analysis of Roman army toilets in Scotland.

Scientists also have discovered that the soldiers also appear to have gone to the lavatory in pairs.

Further analysis of the 2,000-year old remains of the legionnaires’ breakfasts may produce more clues to the diet and eating habits of the troops led by Gnaeus Agricola. They forced their way to the north of Scotland and victory over Caledonian tribesmen at the battle of Mons Graupius in 84 AD.

But archaeologists still puzzle over why the 15 latrines unearthed in a dig at Kintore, Aberdeenshire - 15 miles from the site of the battle - were dug in pairs. Theories range from a Roman liking for military symmetry to the suggestion that they simply enjoyed a good conversation.

Apart from the latrines, which revealed traces of defecated egg, the dig has revealed 120 individual bread ovens, the largest number ever found on one site in Britain.

The keyhole-shaped ovens lined with stone at one end are early versions of a pizza oven. Stone-lined pits were heated up, the ash raked out and a raw dough, probably mixed with any available vegetable, baked.

-- Anonymous, August 27, 2002

Answers

From the title of the thread I thought they were fighting because they had to eat pizza and wanted something else.

I'm not going near the latrines.

-- Anonymous, August 28, 2002


I'm still not going near the latrines, however I thought you might get a kick out of this.

PSYCHIC TOILETS by Donna Gephart, Palm Beach Gardens, FL.

2nd place in 2001 THE MONA SCHREIBER PRIZE FOR HUMOROUS FICTION & NONFICTION

My mother was a fanatic about public toilets. As a little girl, she'd bring me in the stall, teach me to wad up toilet paper and wipe the seat.

Then, she'd carefully lay strips of toilet paper to cover the seat. Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, never sit on a public toilet seat."

And she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consisted of balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without actually letting any of your flesh make contact with the toilet seat. But by this time, I'd have peed down my leg and we'd go home.

That was a long time ago. I've had lots of experience with public toilets since then, but I'm still not particularly fond of public toilets, especially those with powerful, red-eye sensors. Those toilets know when you want them to flush. They are psychic toilets. But I always confuse their psychic ability by following my mother's advice and assuming The Stance.

The Stance is excruciatingly difficult to maintain when one's bladder is especially full. This is most likely to occur after watching a full-length feature film. You know what I mean. You drink a two liter cup of Diet Coke, then sit still through a three-hour saga because, for God's sake, even if you didn't wipe or wash your hands in the bathroom, you'd still miss the pivotal part of the movie or the second scene, in which they flash the leading man's naked derriere.

So, you cross your legs and you hold it. And you hold it until that first credit rolls and you sprint to the bathroom, about ready to explode all over your internal organs. And at the bathroom, you find a line of women that makes you think there's a half-price sale on Mel Gibson's underwear in there. So, you wait and smile politely at all the other ladies, also crossing their legs and smiling politely.

And you finally get closer. You check for feet under the stall doors. Every one is occupied. You hope no one is doing frivolous things behind those stall doors, like blowing her nose or checking the contents of her wallet. Finally, a stall door opens and you dash, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.

You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter. You hang your handbag on the door hook, yank down your pants and assume The Stance. Relief. More relief.

Then your thighs begin to shake. You'd love to sit down but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold The Stance as your thighs experience a quake that would register an eight on the Richter scale. To take your mind off it, you reach for the toilet paper. Might as well be ready when you are done.

The toilet paper dispenser is empty. Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny napkin you wiped your fingers on after eating buttered popcorn. It would have to do. You crumble it in the puffiest way possible. It is still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch doesn't work and your pocketbook whams you in the head. "Occupied!" you scream as you reach out for the door, dropping your buttered popcorn napkin in a puddle and falling backward, directly onto the toilet seat.

You get up quickly, but it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with all the germs and life forms on the bare seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper, not that there was any, even if you had enough time to. And your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if she knew, because her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, "You don't know what kind of diseases you could get."

And by this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, sending up a stream of water akin to a fountain and then it suddenly sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged to China. At that point, you give up. You're finished peeing. You're soaked by the splashing water. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a Chiclet wrapper you found in your pocket, then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

You can't figure out how to operate the sinks with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past a line of women, still waiting, cross-legged and unable to smile politely at this point. One kind soul at the very end of the line points out that you are trailing a piece of toilet paper on your shoe as long as the Mississippi River.

You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and say warmly, "Here. You might need this." At this time, you see your spouse, who has entered, used and exited his bathroom and read a copy of War and Peace while waiting for you.

"What took you so long?" he asks,annoyed. This is when you kick him sharply in the shin and go home.



-- Anonymous, August 28, 2002


Oh, VERY true! I have adopted the Queen's method of dealing with peeing. She doesn't drink anything for several hours before a public engagement and she drinks little or nothing when she's confronted by a public meal. I bet she has kidney problems--whaddaya think? Anyway, I do ty to pee before I leave home and avoid public conveniences where at all possible.

When I was a little girl I thought the Queen had gold toilets encrusted with precious stones and wondered if the seat was uncomfortable (all those pointy jewels) and cold.

One night The Hungarian and I went to a super estate sale and we got there at 2 a.m. We had done this before and had to lose our parking place when we needed to bugger off and find a gas station loo at dawn. This time, we were wearing Depends!!! I kid you not! We were cozily ensconced in sleeping bags so the offending garments were easily removed after use and deposited in jumbo ziplocks!

Back to the pizza. If the Romans could conquer half the world on pizza and eggs, what could we do? Except for the crust (one hopes it was thin), sounds like an early version of the Atkins diet.

-- Anonymous, August 28, 2002


Potty curbs darken mood at distillery

Some workers wet themselves at Jim Beam plant

By Bruce Schreiner

THE ASSOCIATED PRESS

CLERMONT, Ky. - Employees at the Jim Beam bourbon distillery are getting sour over restrictions on bathroom breaks.

Workers on the bottling line are fuming about being limited to four breaks per eight-hour shift, only one of which can be unscheduled. Extra trips to the bathroom can result in reprimands. Workers with six violations can be fired.

The United Food and Commercial Workers local said some of the 100 affected employees have urinated on themselves because they were afraid to leave the line. Some wear protective undergarments, and others have feigned illnesses to go home and avoid getting violations, said Jo Anne Kelley, president of the union local.

The state has slapped the distiller with a citation. Jim Beam appealed; today, a hearing officer is expected to recommend to a review commission whether to sustain or overrule the citation. The commission's decision can be appealed in court.

Jim Beam Brands, headquartered in Deerfield, Ill., said its policy strikes a balance between employees' physical needs and the company's productivity needs. The company, which consulted a urologist before imposing the limits, said the time between breaks will generally be about two hours and never more than three.

"Our policy is fair and reasonable, and it does respect the real needs that our employees have," said Jack Allen, human resources director at the Clermont plant, in the Kentucky hills about 25 miles south of Louisville.

The policy, which took effect in October, was instituted only at the Clermont plant because some workers abused the privilege of unlimited bathroom breaks, the company said.

Workers can be exempted with a doctor's note. So far, 29 have gotten waivers for medical necessity and can go as often as needed, Allen said.

-- Anonymous, August 28, 2002


I doubt that we would have recognized it as pizza. Tomatoes originated in South America and were not introduced to the Old World for many more centuries.

-- Anonymous, August 28, 2002


I know some folks who have to go about every 80 minutes: this is due, in part, to the medicines they take.

I've had pizza and eggs for breakfast before. That's better than day- old beer on wheaties! (:

-- Anonymous, August 28, 2002


one wonders why they have to pee so much...

I can usually manage to get thru a night at work without peeing. when I can't, I go right before lunch. I'm in there washing my hands, so I can go and then wash again. I certainly don't want to be touching myself with 'mail-hands.' Who knows what I could get infected with?!

More than you wanted to know? Same here. This thread's a real pisser, ain't it?

-- Anonymous, August 28, 2002


LOL, Barefoot!

I'd absolutely hate working at a job where you had to get permission from someone or worry about getting fired if you had to use the rest room more often than management says for some reason. Too much like high school! Hall passes! Yucko.

-- Anonymous, August 28, 2002


Besides, everyone (every woman) knows that the Ladies Room is actually the Women's Executive Board Room, where we MUST congregate to conduct our business.

-- Anonymous, August 28, 2002

Um, tomatoes on pizza is a relatively recent innovation. Some popular pizzas in Italy still don't contain tomatoes, either in sauce or sliced form. You put on whatever's available and top it with cheese. Think "white" pizza. Kinda like the trenchers of medieval England.

If there is any person who, when single particuarly, did not eat leftover pizza for breeakfast, I say there is an anal personality. I still eat leftover pizza for brekkers--but never with eggs. Yet.

-- Anonymous, August 28, 2002



My favorite Christine Lavin song...

"Cold pizza for breakfast In a pinch cold spaghetti will do There's nothing in the world that I like better Than eating cold pizza with you..."

-- Anonymous, August 28, 2002


Hey, I've been known to eat for breakfast whatever was leftover from dinner, especially on days when I had heavy gardening or moving on the schedule. Meatloaf on toast is good for any meal!

About the only things I won't eat for breakfast are tuna sandwiches, liver, or ice cream -- those tastes are too extreme for a first meal.

Most days, I eat oatmeal and a piece of fruit, or when it's cold enough to be baking bread, I'll have toast -- my breads are hearty.

-- Anonymous, August 28, 2002


Not that I need to mention that I am not going near the latrines, but, I'm not. LOL

Restroom writings

-Friends don't let friends take home ugly men. ---Women's restroom, Starboard, Dewey Beach, DE.

Remember, it's not, "How high are you?" it's "Hi, how are you?" --- Rest stop off Route 81, West Virginia.

No matter how good she looks, some other guy is sick and tired of putting up with her crap. ---Men's Room, Linda's Bar and Grill, Chapel Hill, North Carolina

Make love, not war. Hell, do both, get married! ---Women's restroom, The Filling Station, Bozeman, Montana

A Woman's Rule of Thumb: If it has tires or testicles, you're going to have trouble with it. ---Women's restroom, Dick's Last Resort, Dallas, Texas

No wonder you always go home alone. ---Sign over mirror in Men's restroom, Ed Debevic's, Beverly Hills, CA

Beauty is only a light switch away. --- Perkins Library, Duke University, Durham, North Carolina.

Fighting for peace is like screwing for virginity. ---The Irish Times, Washington, DC

It's hard to make a comeback when you haven't been anywhere. ---Written in the dust on the back of a bus, Flagstaff, Arizona.

If voting could really change things, it would be illegal. ---Revolution Books, New York, New York

Don't trust anything that bleeds for 5 days and doesn't die. ---Men's restroom, Murphy's, Champaign, IL

Please don't throw your cigarette butts in the urinal. It makes them soggy and hard to light. ---The Janitor

What are you looking up on the wall for? The joke is in your hands. ---Men's restroom, Lynagh's, Lexington, KY

-- Anonymous, August 29, 2002


Observed by Old Git in her Young Hippie incarnation.

The Abbey, Decatur Street, New Orleans

My mother made me a lesbian

(In different hand and medium)

If I get her the yarn, will she make me one too?

So funny I've remembered it for over 30 years.

-- Anonymous, August 29, 2002


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