If You Have Problems with Poop Stories, Don't Read This
One night ago, I was getting ready for bed and I had to take my nightly poop. This is necessary in order to be completely relaxed and have a good night's sleep. Those of you who don't cleanse the pipes before bed really need to try it. Very therapeutic. Anyhoo, there I am taking my time listening to the radio, eating a Hostess Apple Pie and doing my taxes, when I realize, I haven't bought toilet paper. That's ok, though, cause I stretch my neck and check under the sink and there is a whole roll left, plus the partially used roll I have now. This is great. I have plenty of time to buy toilet paper. Luckily for me, I have a loving and wonderful girlfriend who lights up my days and after I am done using the bathroom and waiting 30 - 35 minutes, she goes in there to blow her nose. Logic dictates you use the roll that is out, but not Lauren. Her logic dictates that you use a new roll. When asked later why she used, said "new" roll, Lauren replied, because it is clean. Apparently I have been wiping my ass with dirty toilet paper this whole time, no wonder there has been an outbreak of ebola on my ass crack. Ok, sorry this is getting crass; back to the story. So she uses it and as opposed to placing it back underneath the sink where we all know that it goes, she puts it, not on the back of the toilet, certainly not back under the sink, not on the counter, but in the sink. IN THE SINK, PEOPLE! So as you can imagine the sink has to have a slight drip that over time soaks the toilet paper roll to high hell, and my last bastion of hope for a decent poop the next day, is gone. I will now have to ration the last remaining bits of the roll and that just sucks, since one has to make sure not to use too much or too little of the toilet paper cause either way there could be a very big mess on one's hand's. (pardon the literalness of that one) I don't know, I just don't think I can handle this pressure. And on top of all that now I have to shop for toilet paper at Albertson's . . . my store indeed.
drew
drew