Well, today I had a steak dinner. Two steaks in fact. Third day in a row of steaks – thanks to my new meat budget.
It was all good until it came time to evecuate the contents of my bowels. It all came out fine, but when I reached for the toilet paper – there was none. Finding out that there’s no toilet paper when you are taking a shit is like being dumped at the altar. It’s awful.
I eyed for spare rolls, perhaps the plastic from the toilet paper would work, thought about wiping my ass with the empty roll. I have done it before and if there’s a single piece of toilet paper left on it, it’s not so bad. You don’t get shit on your hand, you get a good solid grip of all the errant shit and it goes down the toilet with a few vigourous flushes.
When my brother was out of toilet paper he once took an old sweater and a pair of scissors and placed them next to the toilet
But no, I managed to find some very coarse school-grade paper towels. My nether regions took a cruel, dry, rough wiping.