Urine The Doghouse Now, Boy
By Pete at http://pete.nu/blog/
In my new house (well, I’ve been there for six months, but it still feels quite new) we don’t have a toilet roll holder. The shape of the bathroom doesn’t really lend itself to a conventional wall-mounted toilet roll holder, so until we come up with some jolly brilliant idea, the toilet roll just stands on the top shelf of a trolley next to the throne.
Many many years ago, when I was a kid, I used to go camping with my mum. She’d always tell me to only take a handful of toilet paper to the toilet block, and one day I discovered exactly why. Though I have mentioned before that I was an obedient child, it appears that I occasionally weakened, for on one occasion I took the entire roll, and dropped it into the toilet bowl. Naturally it instantly absorbed all the water, and was ruined.
This weekend, the inevitable happened. I had just finished micturating into the bowl (stood up, naturally, for I am a man, and a manly man at that). I tore two sheets off of the end of the roll to dry off the end of my magic wand, but fumbled (possibly due to the glass of wine at lunchtime). I caught the roll by the loose end, and watched as it gracefully sailed towards the yellow ocean.
“Oh bother, ” I said, as the roll (which, fortunately, was into the last quarter of its life anyway) landed with a small splash and started soaking up water at a ferocious rate. Not wanting to risk blocking the pipes, I saw no choice but to manually fish my wee-soaked toilet roll out of a pool of my own wee, and tear it up into small bite-sized chunks that would flush easily.
This is just one example of how glamourous my life is. I could offer more.
April 12th, 2007 at 8:06 pm
Um… no, really, you’ve done enough;)