Aldecaldos Camp shitter!

Even in the barren wastes of the Badlands, you can find beauty. This shitter is something special. It’s located in the Aldecaldos camp where squats Panam Palmer’s misfit family. This shitter is an example of how a little ingenuity and know-how can be the difference between living the high life and merely surviving. I’ll leave it to you to determine which one is happening here.

Notice the platform of plastic palettes that lift the shitters about 6 inches from the ground. This is an important step to constructing an outdoor shitter, because the scorpions, sand fleas, crickets, cockroaches, and other icky crawlers have a harder time getting near where you place your ass. Regardless, you’re gonna wanna lift and slam down that seat lid at least once before sitting, just in case. The spray left on the unit surfaces is a nice touch. The plastic curtain is okay, I guess, it at least gives the illusion of privacy and it’s better than anything opaque since you never know what kind of scum is lurking around taking pictures in the toilets. I’m going to guess the cartons are for holding various shitter sundries such as more pest control measures and toilet paper. The magazine on the ground is a No. That’s just more fuel for pests to use for nesting material, or to hide under. But let’s cut these folks some slack. At least they set this up, and that’s more than most would do in this situation. That’s saying a lot considering the average Aldecaldo education extends as far as “driving stick.”

Outside a club in Night City

Horrible Crime Against Humanity shitter!

IDEK what to call this bullshit. Let me set the stage for you here. Bradley Costigan was an “inside choom” at a Militech prison, but he decided he’s not into that choomery anymore and the Tyger Claws didn’t like hearing that. Unfortunately for his wife Lauren, that means she gets kidnapped and thrown into this absolute fucking travesty of a holding cell, and I have just one question - Where? Is? The Shitter? Taki Kazo, the United Nations wants to have a word with you because as the boss of this little band of criminally-violent street urchins, you are responsible for this shit!

Lauren is basically non-responsive when I find her in a filthy mess of cardboard and graffiti, but she perks right up when heroically rescued from this condemned concrete pit. Incredible how that works. I did this one as a stealth mission, but trust me when I say as soon as I completed it, I went back through here and taught each one of these Tyger Claw idiots a lesson in human decency.

Memorial Park Station shitter!

It’s another shitstorm of corruption, murder, and espionage in Night City. This time, some nobody on the Night City Council killed a journalist with computer magic. While sneaking around in the station that houses the CCTV footage you need, you find a man getting the shit beaten out of him in a bathroom. And the only real reason I’m here is to get snaps of the shitters, so when I shook him by the collar and demanded to know - “Are there any other shitters in the building?! Tell me!!” - he had the gall to say purely the most disgusting thing ever. Every shitter is unique and precious! Though this one has seen better days. What could compel someone to scrawl “No Future” on a substandard privacy barrier? I’m guessing it was the mystery meat kebabs.

Hippie Hideaway shitter!

Torres Piombo is listed as a “minor character” in the cast of Hitman, but if we’re getting honest, he’s probably the biggest character because he provides so much ocular spice. In the classy Mediterranean town of Sapienza, Torres Piombo is simultaneously just one man, and somehow also a buffet of eclectic colors, style, and aromas. The ankle bracelet-clad Bohemian alpha male exudes rainbow-hued bachelor aura waves from his penthouse apartment above the (checks notes) Town Hall? Lose yourself in the peaceful swirling and twirling to the music emanating from his Zen den. Marvel at his collection of cans, bottles, and Buddhist figurines, while partaking of his whacky weed. Sink your toes into the luxury of the garnet shag bathroom rug set. Get fired up to punch a Nazi after experiencing the unbridled testosterone of his Fascism-killing acoustic musical implement!

In this screenshot, submitted by bucket brigadier Swolito, we see beatnik lamb Torres needlessly slaughtered. At least his dearest companion in this life was at his side during his final moments! Alas, a shitter cannot give testimony in RICO trials.

D&D Tavern Shitter!

From our Bucket Brigadier of the Year 2021, Emrysin, here are two gendered toilet banks in an actual Dungeons and Dragons tavern map. This is a rare Birdseye View shitter. Says Emrysin: “That’s the tavern we were staying at while investigating a series of murders tied to un underworld crime syndicate. The well in the center of the room goes down into the sketchy place. When we entered the tavern the first time, some slimes and a troll came out of the hole. The tavern is known for the hole in the middle of it, it’s named after it, if I remember correctly.”

How do the toilets factor into the dice rolling? If you go in there and roll a 2, is that a good thing? According to Emrysin, “A giga-slime creature did come out of the toilet, that we had to fight too. It was all very questionable.”

Where you been, poo?

You may have noticed we have been AFS for some time, because a lot has been happening. I graduated, I moved on, and I have a monster load of shitter submissions waiting to be glorified on this blog. Thank you for your patience, I see you there in my analytics looking for new shitters and I validate you!

The biggest update I have for you is the promise of future fun - I’ve been recreating the blog in a new framework that will be faster, with more optimized images, and more features. I’m SO excited to share that with you, and hoping very much that I can get it all done before September, when I will whisk away to the university of my dreams to become even more powerful, legendary, and unstoppable.

So once again thank you for your continued viewership. This community means so freaking much to me, and honestly, we have made a big difference to our main squeeze, the World Toilet Org. That is a relationship I’m looking forward to also increasing and improving in the near future, so please look forward to that. Best wishes from this shitty blog!

April Fools by Jog Brogzin

Seal of approval!

Check out these lovely World Toilet Day Collector’s Stamps available from the United Nations. You can get whole sheets or a set of three unique stamps for around $5. Each stamp emphasizes a different aspect of the importance of a toilet: Fostering a healthy ecosystem, preventing disease, and keeping under-represented demographics in school! Yes, I will be framing this in my bathroom!

Delamain HQ shitter!

Delamain is the AI taxi service with a whole mess of problems. The fastidious, tight-laced queen running the show in blue lipstick keeps losing its shit, and there’s a rambling treasure hunt you must complete if you ever want to see this shitter.

Throughout the game, the storyline keeps trying to convince you that computers are the wave of the future, but Delamain is run entirely by computers and machines, and its rather a troubled beast. If you’re anything like me, when you got a look at this you asked yourself, “Why?” Who even is using this shitter, as there are no humanoid employees with humanoid, shitter-using asses within this corporation? Peek around in the old email logs and you’ll find out there used to be a lot of human employees until they transferred all the power over to an AI, which soon took over the company and fired everyone.

Oddly enough, the AI controls helper-bots of all shapes and sizes and yet never bothered to clean this room. Creepy and barely usable, one stall is entirely inaccessible and the other is just a very big NO. Reminiscent of the shitters from Prey, a dank-ass area rug half soaked in what could be any kind of liquid lays crumpled beneath the bank of sinks. Nearby stands a trough of urinals. The green tint of it all makes you wonder which of the strewn trash items will turn out to be a mimic. And this is where I start to question the power of artificial intelligence. Even if robot asses have no use for this space, they could have scoured it of the former human filth and garbage and reallocated its purpose. Seems as though the human programmers never considered the necessity of cleanliness and sanitation as part of their day-to-day, and thus did not program a janitor function. That “hacker stink” has roots in habitual negligence.

Fun fact! The book on the back of the toilet is a smut mag called “Sex and Chrome.”