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The Restroom Blues and the Talking Toilet

Biding your bidet time Amiga? Forgot to lower the seat Amigo? Don’t throw that Tampon in there, this ain’t Tampon Tampico you know or even Tampon Tokyo..ok start singing, “My Tampon from Tokyo”. There are toilets of all types, flush type, composting type, dry type, chemical type and all manner of high tech gadgetry to goes into the process of eliminating waste so it can’t find it’s way home. (Thanks to Steve Winwood for that inspirational sentence)


It is called the “throne” for some reason that must have to do with the home being a castle of some sort. The temple that it resides in is sometimes referred to as the “reading room” as if it were the porcelain version of the Library at Alexandria holding all the writings of the ages an not merely tattered copies of Nat Geo and Turkey Hunting in the South. It used to be the TV guide that was the bathroom bible and a Sears Catalogue did double duty in the commode mode. Today, Lands End has taken it’s literary place in the Stall of Sound!


If you’ve seen any of the Terminator series films, you will appreciate the fact that the Machines can take over. We used to flush the holy chalice of the vast wasteland hand, old world craftsman style. Today in many public restrooms (Who the hell rests in there? I just want to get in and get out before the guy next me decides to open a conversation with me) I don’t go in there to powder my nose or any other part of body..well, maybe once but that was in San Francisco and I didn’t want to shine!) The American Standard Rise of the’s here now John Conner!


You take your stance in front of the gaping yaw of the urinal…he carefully unzip so as not the Bobbitize yourself on the way up when done…then you let loose…a fine stream that could snuff out a fire in Smurfland. When you’re and go..and wait..this is the cool you turn away from the senses you and flushes automatically. It knows more than it lets on…it has you marked and tagged for extermination. I once went back to peek in the empty restroom after it flushed and swore the toilets were toiling and talking among themselves about their day…”All day Mac, zip, unzip, and they gotta be cute about it and aim for the drain openings like it was a firing range and their trying to qualify for sharpshooter or something. And that one guy, did you see him? Man, I swear he had plastic penis surgery and gave him a Mr. Potato head look. Watch out for him..he sprays like a shotgun all over the place and I want my Out of Order sign handy in case he comes back!”


Other complaints I’ve heard are from Rehabilitated Outhouse toilets in therapy. “Hello, my name is knotty pine and I’m an addict!” Some urinals have gone overseas to have a sex change operation and come back as post-op bidets. You know the Bidet Bardots of feminine hygiene You know the kind that squirts water into the female genital region for the fresh as spring zing. Some are gentle as the spring rain and others are more Moby Dick Thar She Blows types. I heard one bidet say, (What did one Bidet say to the other Bidet?) “The pay is lousy but the view is worth it’s weight in gold!” The bidet has a close familial relationship with it’s cousin the douchebag and they have turf wars everyday over who gets to watership down first.The douchebag does have one major advantage over the bidet. It’s gets to explore and be Vasco de Vaginal De Gama. “I’m inside now. Going deep! I don’t need to be a submarine to enjoy this view in her octopussy garden!


Now…guys…I have heard numerous complaints about our non-compliance when it comes to putting the seat back down at home after we have taken a whiz if ever there was a whiz that waz…you ain’t the whizzer of Oz so but the seat back down, yeah it’s like the jaws of an alligator that could lop off a piece of your prized territory so stand back and let ‘er drop…be a man…slam it down…yell, YEAH at the top of your lungs and man up…go right up to HER and in your best defiant manly voice..look her in the eye and say…”I put the seat down Honey, so don’t be mad.” That’ll show her.


Now we come to terminology…women powder there nose…we go to take a leak.What is that..”Excuse me sir. Where are you taking that leak? I saw you try to steal it now where are you going with it” as though we’re shop lifters at Leaks R Us. “Uh, nowhere, I meant to pay for it, not steal it. I’ll put the leak back so that way I can leave a leak and not take one!” I would never take a leak …honest…never. The toilet is still undergoing evolutionary changes. Maybe someone will invent the Crapper know like the light switch thing..clap your hands once and the seat goes up…clap twice it comes down..perfect for Fathers Day along with a card that says…”I do give a shit about you darling!”


The Tampon Disposal is still a quandary. That may never be solved in toilet terms in our lifetime…the tampon is lucky though as it gets to go where some men have been’s monthly mission…to be all it can be! Oh to be a tampon! Cue Lt. Uhura it’s space tampon time to do a little star trekking of it’s own.


Toilets may come and go…but men…the seat must come down! You’ll pay dearly for it if you forget. Ever sit on the cold porcelain rim in the dead of night when you forgot to put the seat down and take out the trash? I rest my case of the restroom blues….now FLUSH and if it talks back and says in a deep voice “GET OUT!” you are now pissing in a possessed toilet in Amityville! Remember..shit happens!

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