Yesterday I asked my Facebook peeps what today’s post should be about. They really came through for me. They suggested toilet paper, squirrels and a capricious rating system for cookies. Yup…these are my friends and family y’all and this is why I love them. (Now you know where my randomness comes from; they feed it frequently.)
I’ve thought long and hard about how to join those three topics (just like I somehow managed to marry Cannibal Poptarts & Goose-Step Salute) and when I say “thought long and hard” I mean I’m word-vomiting this entire thing on a whim. I like a challenge.
A cousin pointed out something I think we all know about toilet paper; there are 57,000,000,000 different kinds. Why? Why does there need to be a different brand of toilet paper for each county in America? Why does toilet paper range from 1-ply to 3-ply? What is a ply exactly?
All you do is wipe your butt with it…it’s far from an elegant item so why are there so many choices ranging from ‘poor folks’ to ‘pampered ass?’ (See what I did there? *wink wink*) Also, why does toilet paper have commercials? There is no one in America who is not using this stuff!
I realize cheap 1-ply TP is the equivalent of attempting to wipe your butt with the thinnest shreds of tissue paper you can find in a 3 year old, moth-eaten gift bag so why even make it an option?
If it tears mid-wipe (& it will), you’re in some serious trouble and probably shouldn’t shake anyone’s hand for at least 5 years or 2,000 gallons of bleach, whichever comes first.
Having a finger break through the paper right near the defecation excavation site every time we made a trip to the Super Bowl has the potential to grant one a very specific type of PTSD. Not to mention scratches…my grandma was a great woman; she taught me about John Wayne toilet paper.
Let’s just get rid of 1-ply toilet paper for the health and sanity of all mankind. It would even contribute to the betterment of the economy because we would no longer be forced to waste time and resources on subpar butt paper.
I’m not even going to talk about 2-ply because it’s the middle child of toilet paper and everybody knows they never get enough attention. (Oh, don’t be so uptight…that was a joke.) 😉
That makes the 3-ply TP the youngest child, and therefore the softest and most awesome. Much like my parents, the TP companies created perfection with the last one and so they stopped. 🙂 Kidding again…in all seriousness though, I believe they only kept the one and two-ply so they could make the 3-ply more expensive. So now, unless you’re Bill Gates or my mother, you have to buy 1-ply because that’s all you can afford (and if you’re my mother 1-ply is all you can afford, too, but you don’t care), but you have to buy more of it because everybody has to use 75 feet of it in order to feel clean and in that way, the butt companies make more money off the 1-ply. (Hello run-on sentence…)
One of those butt companies is making all their money on a family of bears. (That sentence sounded better in my head.) Sure, these bears are all cute and precious with their soft toilet paper and sparkly clean backsides, but we all know they don’t actually look like this. Bears are actually like this: ROAR. (Incidentally, that describes Katy Perry, too.) That is false advertising and I think Bears everywhere should sue for slander because the media is making them look like pansies. Bears are not super cute, dainty pansies who wipe their butts with baby-soft paper. You know what would be super cute using toilet paper and by “using toilet paper” I mean being used AS toilet paper? You guessed it. Cookies. And by “cookies,” I mean squirrels. (Sorry, I had to make sure you were paying attention.)
I addressed the fact that there are too many ply-choices, so now I think I’ll attack the ridiculous number of brand choices. People are wiping their butts with bears, puppies, babies, koalas, cats…I googled it.
Despite what this book says, it’s the right year for wiping your butt with a squirrel. It would serve them right for doing the deer wrong. See, the squirrels had an insurance gig, but they straight up sabotaged the deer & stole the whole thing right out from underneath them, I know it. I just need to prove it so that I can get the deer a better deal with Progressive. (Dear Flo, I’ll be needing that endorsement check now. M’kayThanksBye!)
Once we prove the squirrels are undermining swindlers and make amends to the deer, you, me, the bears and the deer will sit around drinking wine while making fun of squirrels and eating cookies. We’ll have a bake off and rate each others confections on a scale from John Wayne to puppies. The determining factor will be how much of our new squirrel paper we have to use to…well…never mind the details. All I’m going to say is that any type of cookie containing coffee or meant to be dipped in coffee before consumption is going to be closer to the puppy end of the scale while anything classified as a pastry containing milk or cheese is sure to be on the John Wayne end of the spectrum.
So that’s that, people: Toilet paper, squirrels & cookies. How’d I do??
L’esprit de l’escalier.
It’s French & if the snippet of the (photo of the) newspaper that I read is accurate, it is translated as ‘staircase wit.’ Staircase wit is what it’s apparently called when you think of a clever comeback after it’s too late to deliver it.
Story of my life.
It’s at the top of my list of reasons why I prefer writing over actually talking to people. I can think about what I want to say before all kinds of unwelcome thoughts just spew out of my mouth like word-vomit. Organization, making sure what I’m saying is actually what I mean; that’s what I need. Versus when I’m having a conversation & I say something stupid & realize that is not at all what I meant or else that it’s what I meant, but not the way I meant to say it.
Speaking of saying things, I really need someone to tell me how to pronounce that French word because when I say it, it sounds like I’m hacking up a gallon of phlegm with a thick southern drawl & vaguely Spanish consonants.
However, I can say “vis ma vie” quite clearly.