Toilet Paper Roll Playing
I wanted to write a bit about the toilet paper situation in our house. There’s a natural order to things, even toilet paper. You might find the topic boring but as your intrepid blogger I’m willing to take a swipe at it.
There’s a three-tier system of toilet paper deployment in our home. I’m not talking about “ply.” That, of course, is something that varies wildly over the course of time and cannot be predicted. If you’re not careful some rolls blow away like dandelions in the wind. These are known in the industry as 1-ply, micro-ply or nano-ply. Others are decidedly thicker and look like what you might expect if you dissected the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Common varietals include 2-ply, 4-ply, 8-ply, 16-ply, 32 ply and 64-Mbps-ply (if available in your area).
Which tier of the system is for you? It depends on your level of desperation.
In no particular order we begin our journey with an exploration of the Top Shelf Tier. This toilet paper is located at the very top of a cabinet in the bathroom. Despite the lofty name this location has been carefully determined based on being totally inaccessible to the standard occupant in a sitting position. You can reach up and strain your arm but it ain’t gonna happen. This stash is basically emergency use only. It’s the bathroom equivalent of breaking the glass in case of fire. If push comes to shove you’ll have to stand up to get it.
Next we find the Everyday Tier. This is one or more rolls scattered about the room in very accessible positions. This may be the edge of the sink, balanced on the towel rack, or even on the floor. The point is, like an old friend, it’s there when you need it. This is your low-hanging fruit and bestest buddy in the toilet paper realm. But it’s also a dying breed. Your wife will terminate it on sight. That makes Everday Tier a precious commodity and a trusted friend.
Last, but certainly not least, is the Official Tier. This stuff is so highfalutin that it even has it’s own rack. And it’s mounted right on the wall! La-dee-dah! The placement of this rack, however, leaves something to be desired and is, perhaps, the most visible indication yet that this house was designed by Dr. Reed Richards of the Fantastic Four. I know that’s a stretch but evidence suggests his superpowers are required to reach the damn thing. Putting the toilet paper right behind the toilet? Utter brilliance. That ranks right up there with a floor plan design that reveals a direct line-of-sight to the urinals when the restroom door is opened at the pub. Clever!
The point I’m trying to make is that I hate the Official Tier and avoid it unless absolutely necessary. I keep banning it from this realm of existence but it, somehow, always returns.
One time I had a girlfriend move in with me. I kept the master bath for myself and she took ownership of the other bathroom. It was the bathroom adjacent to the living room by the front door. It was informally known as our “public” restroom. The only rule? That it be kept well-stocked with plenty of toilet paper for visiting dignitaries and out-of-town guests.
Then, one day, my best friend went to use the facilities and ended up taking a shower. What the hell? I grilled him when he exited and he claimed he had no choice. There was no toilet paper! No sheet! See? If she had used the three-tiered system that never would have happened.
Avoid pain and humiliation for you and your friends. Get on the three-tiered system today.
Roll them Scrapples
My day job is negativist. In my spare time I try to earn some scrillas for survival. After that, the bulk of the remainder of my time is spent philosophizing and inventing. And pondering the ways of love. And packing lots and lots of boxes.
What I’m saying is I invented a new gambling game and I’m giving it to the world for free. In that way I’m just like the fellow that found the cure to polio and didn’t try to exploit it for big bucks.
Yeah, we need more gambling, so I hope this catches on.
Like most of my inventions, necessity turned out to be one fantastic mother. And, like most of our most harrowing tales, it all started one Christmas not too many years ago…
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DIY: Britney Spears’ private phone number

What are the odds Britney and I would have the exact same outfit? Dammit! Image source: OMG! Why? Why? My eyes! (Wikipedia.)
What if I told you there was a way to obtain the private phone number for anyone you want? And what if it was completely legal? Now how much would you pay?
Imagine it. You could call anyone you wanted. Maybe even someone like Britney Spears.
[ringtone] … hit me baby one more time … [click]
Britney: Hello?
You: Hi, Britney. OMG, OMG, OMG!!! I can’t believe I’m really talking to you!!!
Britney (irritated): Who the hell is this?
You: It’s me.
Britney (speaking to someone else): Dammit. How the hell do they get this number? I was in the middle of lighting a cigarette, too. [click]
You: Britney? Britney? Are you there? Are you there? [pause] Britney, I love you! [pause] Oh, shit. [pause] Okay, it’s my move in Warhammer 40,000. Okay, okay. Let me finish up the paint job on this Tyranid Trygon first.
If you want conversations like that and so much more, make the jump for my secret, surefire technique. The probabilities are that you’ll love it.
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