This happened over a decade ago.
You'd think as wasteful as the government is in spending they could afford to buy some mother fuggking toilet paper that works. Not even close, and it appears to be getting worse. The paper I used this morning had the efficacy of wax paper coupled with the comfort of 220 grit sandpaper. You could sand the chrome of of a Harley with this schidt. As I started my fore to aft swipe, the grit gained traction and my fingers went sliding off, digging into my anus in the process. Thankfully I cut my fingernails last night and don't have to dig butt pudding out from underneath them. So at this point the forest product (you can actually see wood chips in the paper) I am provided to clean my ass with is just hanging from my goddamm crack. I pondered the best way to remove it. I got another piece off the roll to wrap around my fingers. As I did the holder broke, and with a decided thwack the roll hit the floor and scurried away just beyond arms reach and came to a stop in a puddle of what I hope was water near the base of the sink. I half stood and leaned over toward it. At this point the clump of paper lost purchase on my crack and fell dirty side down into my underwear. REALLY, can this get any fuggking worse?
Why yes it can. I sat back down and collected myself for a few seconds. I picked up the piece of paper that had fallen into my underwear. As I began swinging it into the toilet it unfurled and pendelum-like swung a chunk of doo onto my thigh. Exasperated at this point, I just threw it on the floor. Using the half saturated, half fiberglass textured paper, I managed to clean my thigh and underwear reasonably well before I settled back into the task of wiping my ass. You know, I just went into the bathroom to take a flipping schidt. I did not ask for and did not want drama. There was a sink right by the toilet, so I dampened the paper a little to take the edge off and smeared schidt all over my crack for a while until I felt like I had done as good a job as possible.
I stood up and turned around to flush. As if the pulled pork sandwich and onion rings I had last night weren't enough to choke a commercial grade toilet, there was now two hundred thirty six linear feet of 1X4 yellow pine in the bowl as well. The first stroke of the handle scarcely yielded a burble. After several rounds of plunger, flush, wait, I succeeded in sending the mess to its grave. I am a sanitary person, just short of being OCD about it. So I pressed on the liquid soap dispenser. NOTHING. I'm resourceful too. I figured there'd be some residual soap in the collapsible bag. NOPE, the bag had been removed. I decided copious amounts of hot water would suffice until I could make my way to another restroom. It took just shy of four minutes for the hot water to make it to my corner of the building and when it did it was McDonalds coffee hot. I almost didn't bother with looking in the paper towel dispenser. I just knew it would be empty. Then I thought there was no way my luck could be that damn bad, so I looked, and I was wrong. My luck is that damn bad.
I walked out of the restroom directly into the office looking like I'd been in a fight with Brock Lesnar. Of course everyone turned to look at me. Apparently some of my profane utterances and the noise had made its way into the office. Now I'm sitting here feeling like Ron Jeremy ass raped me with a cheese grater, and all I wanted to do was take a schidt and clean up like a normal person.
😂
