At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Monday, September 11, 2017


There are two issues which more than any other fuel discord in American households, and because of them I think you are all nuts.
Irreversibly insane.

Toilet seats and how to hang the roll.

Fastidious struggling of the inner soul, moral torture, and existential crises. Special ops. Cerulean trousers. Chins up, men, and trousers down.
And little personal things like smelling your own armpits.

My apartment mate and I have never argued about this, and solved both problems admirably without realizing the sheer heresy of doing so.
Or doing it in the manner we did it.

The seat goes whichever way is best for the person in the bathroom at that moment, the roll stands on a nearby surface.

We are both from outer space, and observing this planet for the invasion fleet; when our job is done the ship will come to take us home. Okay?

The rest of you are quite batshit.
You know that, right?

"There's that marvellous unpunctuated motto over the lavatory saying, "Gentlemen lift the seat". What exactly does this mean? Is it a sociological description, a definition of a gentleman which I can either take or leave?
Or, perhaps it's a Loyal Toast?

---Jonathan Miller, The Heat-Death of the Universe, Beyond the Fringe

All of this comes to mind because I have not seen or considered the nudity and frequently linked thereto bathroom usage of any man or woman other than my own self in one hell of a long time. And, consequently, I have no idea how other households cope with either issue (seats and bumwad).
In this apartment we have not devoted much thought to it at all, and we use bathrobes to maintain propriety, but it is, apparently, a major source of tiff and howling among the masses. Who at this hour are engaged in screaming at each other over the bathroom, and plotting vengeful mayhem.

Or so many people tell me. Mostly women.

Gentlemen lift the seat.

The first cup of coffee does marvelous things to the mind.
And makes one think of bathrooms and rolls.

Rather rangy marsh birds.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.


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