I think that if I ever decided to become a sadist, and really took the hobby seriously, I’d probably go get a job in a toilet paper manufacturing company. I’d like the job of sealing that first precious sheet of paper onto the roll.
If I were a good sadist (I mean good at what I did), I’d make that starter sheet stick so tightly to the roll that even the most seasoned bathroom-goer would go batty trying to figure out how to get the roll started.
I got hold of a sadist-produced roll this morning. It took me about two hours (or, so it seemed) to get the paper going. I got so frustrated, I was about to rip the whole roll off the wall and use it as need be. Finally after twirling the roll several dozen times, I found that there really was a starter sheet.
I was beginning to think I had found a roll that defied the laws of physics and had no beginning. I was thinking it was one of those whatchamaycallits – you know that thing that has only one side. I know at least one of you out there knows what I’m talking about. Had I not been sitting in the bathroom, I’d have been proud to make such a discovery. But there are certain times in a person’s life (two to three times a day, in my case) where one is simply not interested in scientific discovery. In fact, at those times, most normal people would rather not discover anything that was new or unusual.
Something I did discover as I had my face up against the toilet paper searching for a starting point is that toilet paper has a scent. Why? I would think that if used as intended, toilet paper would be about the last item on earth that would come anywhere close to its user's nose.
I have blown my nose on the toilet paper once or twice in my life, but I learned recently that there are special tissues just for that. I came across a KLEENEX tissue that said it contained cold medication. I swallowed three of the tissues before someone explained their proper use. I still can’t understand how blowing one’s mucus on tissue paper with cold medication in it is supposed to help.
But, back to toilet paper. I really would appreciate it if someone would explain the rationale behind scented toilet paper. I’ve smelled it before, but never knew where it was coming from, until my close encounter of a (There’s a great pun here, but I won’t use it. Maybe you can figure it out) toilet paper kind.
Actually I’ve always associated that toilet paper scent with a bathroom smell, so when I smell it, it somewhat nauseates me. At least I know now that it’s something the toilet paper people have deliberately done. I told you they are sadists.
I wonder who came up with a particular scent and then determined that it would be a great smell for toilet paper. Who makes such decisions? It’s probably the same people who come up with the scents in those horrid bathroom deodorizer sprays. I hate those smells. I don’t care if they do call them such names as Piney Pleasure or Woodsy Wafts, they give off an odor that says, “Hey, this is what a forest suffering from IBS would smell like.
Well, I guess I’ve said more than I should. But, I had all this time for reflection as I was trying to peel off the toilet paper. Maybe next time I’m on a roll, I’ll actually be on a roll.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
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5 comments:
Steve, you think too much. Although I really like the results... JH
Hmmm. Let me think about that for a moment.
Call me Ishmael, but I assume you meant a mobius strip, which sounds like what a person does in preperation for the toliet.
Careful with the Mobius strip, Cap'n Ahab got a paper cut u know where when it rolled away, and ever since, has been hunting for the allusive starter sheet...
Ishmael, that is exactly the word I was seeking - actually it's two words when you think about it. And your reference to Cap'n Ahab was somewhat painful. I'm very susceptible to suggestion.
I loved the TP paper ramblings. I can relate to the one about the forest w/IBS. Why, it's enough to make a grown man disavow any relationship with his 'POLO' aftershave, ever again.
Steve, try not to give YOURSELF IBS of the column. Save some for tomorrow......or I may have to cure this strange addiction.
old hag
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