The Most Interesting Part

I would much rather be stuck in a broken down car on the side of the road in the dead of winter than on the toilet without a roll of toilet paper. Many find this an insane notion, and for the very good reason that no sane person wishes themself to be stuck on the side of a road with a car that doesn't work. But I argue that that same person would be just as likely to deny themself the opportunity of sitting hopelessly on a toilet with no way to cleanse their recently tarnished bottom.



In order to decide which is actually worst than the other, one must weigh out the cons and pros of each. Obviously, both are terrible situations to be in, and so pros are a hard thing to come by when thinking about them, but I can assure you at least one can be found in each. Let's begin with the car.



It is most likely that if one finds themselves broken down on the side of the road during the coldest days of the coldest time of the year they probably had the heat on prior to being in such an unfavorable situation. And so they will have the heat to sit in for at least 5 minutes before cold air begins slowly seeping its way into the vehicle. Along with heat--providing the battery is not what has caused the breakdown--the driver will also be able to entertain themselves with music to help pass the moments before a tow truck arrives. Finally, if said driver is smart, they will have a warm coat, boots, gloves, and hat with them for situations just like the one they find themselves in to help keep warm.



As for the toilet situation, I can assure you it is the most miserable thing one could ever do in a great many of their years. It begins with the realization. No one ever checks for toilet paper BEFORE they sit down, because that would just be ridiculous, and we are all so often caught up in the hundreds of thoughts that come with being alive in this crazy world, and so we just expect the toilet paper to be there all the time. It is this assumption that causes the situation to be so utterly awful. It is not until one reaches for the toilet paper--only to find nothing but cardboard--that they feel so insanely silly for not having checked to make sure that they had a way to clean the extra poo from their buttocks.



It is at this moment that the person is overwhelmed with a wave of different emotions and thoughts. A common example is to blame whoever came before you, for they knowingly left that roll of cardboard there for what seems to be the single purpose of causing you distress. It is almost as if they are trying to say something: "Here, because you didn't take out the trash last week, you get to sit while poo dries and hardens on your lower sphincter".



The next thought to come is one of despair: the insane notion that one is going to be stuck on this toilet seat until the end of time, cursing themselves for not having checked the toilet paper before beginning to relieve their intestines. The only option appears to be to simply use the cardboard--or possibly even one of the magazines sitting several inches away. However the point of desperation has not yet been reached, and so a slight bit of discomfort from using cardboard or ink paper sounds far out of the question.



The next series of thoughts come slightly more composed and with a hint of problem solving. One begins to calm themselves down and start going through a small--very small--list of otions as to how to get out of this predicament they have found themselves in. The first option is to waddle pantsless across the bathroom and take a roll out of the cupboard, but that would smear poo across the cheeks, causing even more discomfort. The only thing worse than poo is smeared poo. The second option is to call for someone in the house to invade your privacy and get a roll of toilet paper from the cupboard for you. This would be the most practical decision, and yet it is made highly undesirable by the inevitable humiliation which would take place directly after the assisstance of another(this is a very important note, as help from another on a borken down car is usually appreciated and accompanied by very little humiliatin, but more relief). The final option is to simply sit there until the poo has finished drying, pull up your pants and continue on with your day--taking care to have a very thorough shower as soon as possible.



At the end of it all, the first two options usually prove efficient enough to solve the problem, despite the discomfort and humiliation they may bring.



The most interesting part about this entire thought process is that it takes place in a mere matter of several short minutes. And I have taken a most unnecessary ten minutes out of my day to write down the said process for your enjoyment, and you have no doubt spent a closely similar amount of time reading it. I believe it is safe to say that we have wasted a combined amount of close to twenty minutes on this short piece of writing, when we both could have simply gone and plopped ourselves down on a cold toilet seat which lacks an accompanying roll of toilet paper to experience the thought process for ourselves.

What an incredible thing the human brain is.

Awful Realities

Tonight's the kind of night where I have an awful urge to write something, but I find no writing related ideas floating around in my mostly empty head. It is these kind of nights and moments where I often come up with the most bizarre and awful ideas I think anyone on the face of the planet has ever come up with. Well, other than hitler. His ideas were not only awful, they were stupid to the point of suicide.

For this paragraph my plan was to share some of my awful ideas from the past, but because they are such awful ideas they tend to kill themselves the moment the poor things come to fruition so as to protect the world from wasted time. I always try to tell them to go out with a bang and do a suicide bombing in the Disney Channel's headquarters, but they never listen. If the ideas aren't quite awful enough to end themselves, then I usually do the dirty deed myself. I'm not very fond of killing, however, so every now and then I let one or two live just to see what will happen. Mostly they just die of old age, but a few of them have gone on to become nicolas cage and/or M. Night Shyamalan movies. And remember, those aren't even the ideas that were bad enough to kill themselves. That's the gist of how awful these ideas really are.

Not really sure what my plan was for this paragraph.

Right now the amount of birthing and dying ideas in my brain must be coming close to infinity as pen meets paper, and I'm doing everything humanly possible to keep them from escaping through the pen with which I compose this pointless piece. Uh-Oh

A guy walks int oa bar and starts shooting people with an AK-47 which had in his pocket. He kills a zillion people per second until the world ends. An ancient warrior goes in search of a long lost love he never met. A robot has sex with a unicorn: Evil Baby robot unicorns terrorize the earth. A ship gets attacked by a giant octopus. A mega shark shows up to save everyone--and then eat them for itself. Only one man can stop the end of the world, and he's a most unlikely hero. Choose Forrest Gump over Shawshank Redemption. Make a reality tv series about jacked and tanned douchebags with stupid accents. Make resident evil into a movie--maybe a couple movies. Vampires fall in love with teenage girls and have to choose; throw a werewolf in the mix. Make a sequel to Avatar

Dammit. Sorry you had to see that.