Биотуалет Thetford "Porta Potti Excellence White"

Then, my dad noticed my younger brother wandering away. БЂњWhere are you going?БЂ«БЂњI have to pee.БЂ«Soon we were all standing on the grillwork of the car peeing into the radiator. БЂњSteady, boys. ThatБЂ™s a damn Jap Zero youБЂ™re aiming at. DonБЂ™t waste a round.БЂ«It was enough. Smelling like an overripe Porta-Potty, our hissing wagon limped into a gas station. The gagging mechanic asked if something had died under the hood. On another occasion, overheated brakes threatened our descent from a mountain pass. No doubt recalling his earlier success with the radiator, my dad had each of us boys pee on a wheel to cool the brakes. Nobody has ever used urine as skillfully as my father. These were wonderful and formative times in my life. I became my parents. I had to know what wasbeyond БЂ¦beyond the next mountain, beyond the next bend, beyond the next canyon. There wasnБЂ™t a national park, monument, snake farm, meteor crater, volcano, or rock shop we didnБЂ™t visit. The side-rear windows of our car were covered with the colorful decals of our journeys: gift-shop stickers of YellowstoneБЂ™s Old Faithful, the jagged spires of the Grand Tetons, the Grand Canyon, Glacier National Park, Canyon de Chelly, White Sands, Death Valley, Monument Valley, Glen Canyon, and innumerable other sights on the byways of the west ...»