Porta potty car game

The Potty racers 2 is an action game that was created by Gonzo games. It is a game for players who like action games but want to play games that have simple designs and rules.

The Potty racers 2 is the second version of potty racers. Except for the rule, all the features of potty racers 2 are different from potty racers such as the design and the controls.

It is still a game that is easy to play but not easy to win. Design When you click start a half of the globe appears. In the globe, there are for places for you to play the game. You must follow as what you are guided, visit the places and complete the goal in each place. Only when you complete the goal in the place you are in, can you visit other places for other missions. Missions In the game, you play as a man who have desire to fly by a porta potty and your main mission in the game is to help him fly.

The concept of port-a-potties spread quickly to construction sites in the coming years, then to fairs, festivals and sporting events. It's impossible to overstate how seismic the addition of portable bathrooms has been to society, especially sports. But in interviews with bathroom experts -- yes, there are brilliant minds devoted to the topic -- and even port-a-potty companies themselves, it's remarkable how little of portable bathroom history has been recorded.

So it's a field that has barely been studied. This much we know: By the s and s, most large events had begun to hire companies to bring in temporary bathrooms for outside stadiums. Tailgating had become a new American tradition, with attendance at college football games alone surging from The other thing they talk about is port-a-potties -- they want them close, but not too close. They just want to be able to make a beeline for them if they need to.

But back then, organizers usually didn't devote much attention or money, so long lines and disastrous facilities were the norm.

Many events appear to have aimed toward one portable toilet for every or so attendees. Nowadays, port-a-potty companies recommend about one stall for every 50 people at an event. And if alcohol is being served, that number drops to 1 for every 40 attendees. He's especially well known for attending 68 straight Rose Bowl games, home to one of the largest collections of portable bathrooms in the world -- around 1, for the Parade of Roses, with 1, at the game itself. So he's seen the critical rise of the sports port-a-potty.

Talking with me about them recently, he says, he's come to a realization: "You know, thank god for port-a-potties," he says. He tracks a big jump in the number of sufficient port-a-potty facilities to the mids.

You used to see people just go off to the side of the road on the way into games. It was pretty disgusting. There's a very good chance that that is a direct result of sports organizers watching the biggest port-a-potty disaster in human history: 's Woodstock. That's when , people showed up at a farm in upstate New York and had to use toilets -- an absurd 1 bathroom for every people. In his Oscar-winning documentary, "Woodstock," one of filmmaker Michael Wadleigh's most memorable sequences is when he captured a jovial man named Thomas Taggart of the Port-o-San company cleaning out a row of portable toilets.

His happy disposition, contrasted with the epic chaos and grossness of a half million people in the mud and sewage of Woodstock, became an enduring image. One striking thing about the Woodstock footage is how little port-a-potty technology has progressed.

Taggart, at a music concert in , and Ben Cansdale, at a Bills home game in , walk into nearly identical plastic shells, with toilet paper latched into holders on the side. Taggart uses a long hose and tank to suck out a shallow porcelain bowl, which closely mirrors Cansdale's process. The only notable difference is the bowls of -- they're made of plastic, much wider and can hold about 10 gallons.

The Modern crew is supposed to wait until the Bills-Colts game kicks off, but every second counts when it comes to cleaning portable bathrooms in 90 minutes. Cansdale gloves up, then walks around to the compartment outside the truck that holds a few dozen rolls of toilet paper.

He uses the same assembly line system as many of his teammates -- he does all of the TP replacement down the row, then five straight half-sucks, then scrubs all of them. It's much faster than if he tried to do each one completely before moving on to the next.

A roar rises from inside the stadium as the Bills run onto the field. Cansdale takes that as his starter's pistol. Fireworks blast off overhead and a military jet buzzes past the stadium as Cansdale takes off, carrying a mound of toilet paper rolls.

He makes it through the first two stalls when he throws open Door No. Cansdale smiles and shakes his head as he closes the door.

He'd said on the ride over that people have no qualms about using a toilet during the cleaning process, and that's exactly what plays out over and over again for the next hour and a half. Now it's time to get rid of "the volume," as Cansdale calls the contents of the port-a-potties. He has a big vacuum tube connected to an empty gallon tank on the trunk -- it looks like if a Ghostbusters proton gun and a leaf blower had a baby. Cansdale warns in advance that of all the gross things he sees and smells in his job, nothing compares to the initial blast of air that comes out of the vacuum before it reverses flow.

It's so much worse than he described. The wave of warm air is like opening up a degree oven that has been baking full baby diapers all day. When it hits, a guy standing nearby gets a whiff and immediately dry heaves and starts half-jogging the other way. For the next hour, Cansdale moves with surgical precision as he sucks out each toilet.

They're much shallower than you'd think -- an empty stall looks a lot more like your kitchen sink than a bottomless pit. He hangs up the hose at around p. When it gets a little colder, he'll fill his truck with salt water so it doesn't freeze.

He grabs discarded White Claw and beer cans with his gloved hands and throws them away. As he works his way down the line, Cansdale's hose begins to clog, so he reaches down with his gloves and pulls out Later, he fishes out two iPhones floating at the top of separate stalls. When he gets done with the last one, he walks down the row and drops in a small blue dye pack. The plastic packs have some deodorant in them, but their job is mostly to color the water so people can see as little as possible of what lurks beneath.

Cansdale flings open the first door, gives a quick scan, drops in a pack and lets the door slam shut behind him. Then he checks toilet No. When he gets to the final one, he pulls the door open and finds the guy in Zubaz -- yep, he's back -- who didn't lock the door again. He shrugs and heads for the truck, on to the next row of port-a-potties on the other side of the parking lot.

Cansdale throws his bucket on the truck, climbs in and looks over with the devilish smile of someone who has, literally, seen some s Terry Kogan is a University of Utah law professor and a founding member of Stalled! Over the past century, Kogan says, many of society's most important conversations about diversity and inclusion have ended up centering on the bathroom.

But you can tell a lot about a society by how it configures its bathrooms. And now, in the middle of a national conversation about gender, bathrooms again have often become a focal point.

Kogan and his colleagues believe we still send discriminatory messages with men's and women's restrooms, usually with images of a person in a skirt or a person with pants that signals what a man or woman is. On the Stalled! For a stadium restroom, Stalled! On the other side of that wall, there'd be an open area for anybody, regardless of gender, with mirrors, benches and sinks. And in the back, there'd be rows of closed-off stalls, with no visibility into them, where you'd have no idea who was in the bathroom beside you, and it'd be noisy enough that even sheepish people wouldn't have to worry about the sounds associated with using a restroom.

As prehistoric as their design can feel, portable bathrooms are, oddly, where society may be headed. But in Buffalo, one of the most popular places for Bills Mafia members to convene is Hammer's Lot, where owner Eric "Hammer" Matwijow considers it a perk that he labels two stalls for women only.

On the day of the Colts game, Hammer spends a large chunk of his morning barking at lot workers about the bathrooms. In conversations with more than 20 women outside the Bills' stadium, cordoning off restrooms got a unanimous thumbs-up.

So you gotta have 'em, and you gotta make sure they're not a mess, too. That can be an issue in private lots. Almost half of the total Modern port-a-potties near Bills home games are in private lots, but the drivers can't squeeze their trucks into smaller lots like Hammer's when they're full of cars. Cansdale had to clean that one the next day, and says he needed a power washer to clean barf off the sides of the walls.

Across the street in another lot where port-a-potty maintenance seems to be less of a concern, a couple walk up to two stalls holding hands. Near the doors, they release their hands and open their respective doors On Nov. The band warms up on game days, then has a tradition of scattering around the tailgating lots to play the fight song. As Carichner mowed through a soggy cheeseburger, a friend approached and showed him a viral clip of his band.

About 50 members had hidden near 10 port-a-potties, waited until they were sufficiently occupied, then jumped out and started blasting the second fight song.

The clip shows kids putting fingers in their ears as perplexed toilet users meander out into the blaring noise of "ISU Fights. If you're going to be in there, don't you think it's a little nicer with some music playing in the background? There's also a horrifying subgenre of YouTube videos featuring people trying to run across the top rows of port-a-potties. The most infamous examples seem to happen at Triple Crown races -- especially the Kentucky Derby -- where daring adults attempt a toilet sprint.

Many videos feature fans throwing full beer cans at the runners, and eventually most either fall down on top of the toilets or down through the ceilings.

The roofs of port-a-potties are quite thin and can support only about pounds of pressure before they collapse. The day of the Bills-Colts game, Cansdale and other crew members stand around at Modern's local headquarters and rattle off an endless stream of stories about port-a-potty shenanigans. The rundown, of course, begins with the tipped-over port-a-potty.

McKenna doesn't finish his sentence, and he doesn't have to. The crew members all nod their heads, a solemn remembrance of what makes for the longest, darkest moments of any port-a-potty cleaner's day. The whole crew sighs in unison when one of them mentions how at almost every construction site, some clever worker puts on his best Cousin Eddie voice and yells down at them, "Hey, is the ster clogged?

McKenna then mentions that lately they've had a few instances where people either light port-a-potties on fire or blow them up entirely. He gestures for us to follow him, and he walks back between a few dozen port-a-potties surrounding the garage area that have been returned, sucked out but are in need of a full clean.

McKenna stops in front of a stall that will soon be going to port-a-potty heaven. He approaches one with side walls that are still mostly upright, but the entire middle, including the toilet seat and bowl, was blown to pieces by either dynamite or a significant amount of fireworks.

Somebody from Modern put a fluorescent green traffic cone at the bottom that serves as a temporary tombstone for this poor fella. The five trucks have successfully half-sucked almost portable toilets, and the guys are exhausted. Their "volume" is emptied into one big tanker, which then takes it over to the Buffalo sewage treatment facility.