picture it (well actually don’t). just cast your own minds back to when you were last in the toilet to do a big job.
there i was this morning – there has been the sound of a solid splash followed by the contented smile of a man who has had the weight of the world lifted from him.
from this nirvana like state i was quickly brought back to the terrible reality that is the western world. i had run out of bog paper. there was paper there last night, i distinctly remember it being there. the clock is ticking and i know i am going to be late for work. frantic looking around. i know there was paper last night, surely i didn’t sleep wipe?
what am i going to do.
then salvation – a copy of the evening standard. i can’t do crossword, can’t do sudoko and i disagree with it’s politics what better way to use it than to wipe my arse on it .
job down.
off to work. (of course there is always the worry that if i am knocked down not only may i have skidders, but now i may have a headline on my arse as well…..)
(and yes i have noticed a scatological element creeping into recent posts - it's growing up watching carry on films that is the cause of it all you. )
1 comment:
My eldest son and I consantly argue about the huge amount of paper he uses. He bunches it up into a large ball before wiping. I have meticulously shown him how, if you fold the loo paper it's equally effective and uses less paper, but he's having none of it (or all of it, depending on how you look at it). My latest thing is to take the loo paper expense out of his pocket money. Harsh it may sound, but we get through the stuff like *snicker* nobody's business...
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