Please Don’t Squeeze The Charmin!

Posted: July 14, 2013 in Community, Family, Humour
Tags: , , , , , , ,

charmin

I don’t normally shop the sales. It’s not my thing. I usually just buy what I need, and then I’m done with it. But in these economic times, it’s wise to check out if there are any good deals to be had. And last week, there was a doozy.

While reading the ads, I saw that my favorite toilet paper was on for half price. HALF PRICE! You don’t get that every day, I can tell you. And so I set off to get some. Naively, I thought I would buy 3 or 4 packs, but before I got there, the place had been practically picked clean. There was one lonely pack left, and I managed to snag it just before someone else did (she was in a wheelchair and only had one eye, so she never really stood a chance). I was so proud! Bill shopped a sale!! And got one! Woot woot!

And so, there I was, walking proudly with my toilet paper, when I noticed people just looking at me. ‘How rude!’, I thought to myself. It’s just toilet paper. As I proceeded to the checkout counter, I was still getting stared at. Oh, when I looked back, they looked away, but make no mistake, they were staring. I was starting to get mad. I mean, this is 2012, people! We all buy toilet paper!

While walking out the door, people walking in were looking at me and giggling. ‘Take a picture, why don’t you!’ I exclaimed. And some did, with their smartphones. How immature. Surely these people wipe their bums? It’s not like I was carrying a bucket of vomit around. This is toilet paper. Everyone has some in their houses. Sure, I know there are varying degrees of quality of toilet paper, but this stuff is prime! So why all of a sudden the scrutiny. Do we not all know that Bill Gingras occasionally has to go boom-boom? Do I not put on my pants one leg at a time, just like everybody else? If you cut me, do I not bleed?

I have always been a bit of a rebel, and this was really making me burn. Naturally, I couldn’t just let this go. No, no, no. It was much too late for that. I decided enough was enough. So I parked downtown, and walked around with my toilet paper. I went to the bank. I went to the Post Office. I had them put stamps on envelopes for me, all while I held my toilet paper proudly.  People kept looking. Let them look!! I have toilet paper, and I am not ashamed! I will not let your petty little minds shame me from this.

I paraded up and down King Street with this pack of paper. I tried to get the Tribune to come out and take a picture, but they were busy. This was a protest for all of you out there who have had to carry something you once thought embarrassing. Do it! Carry it out in front of you. With spirited magnificence, I was showing our local citizens that yes…I poop…and I WIPE!

Or is that too much information?

Anyways, I quickly grew tired of the blatant stares, the giggles, the torment. And so, I put my pack of TP back in my truck, stood on my running boards, and gave a big Trudeau Salute to all those who could see it. It was epic!

I returned home, ready to regale my family about this latest ordeal I had had to endure. As I opened the door, my son Mackie was there. Mackie! A kindred spirit if I ever knew one! He would understand. He would ‘feel me’. But before I got to tell him all about it, he said to me ‘Hey dad….did you know your fly is down?’

Oh.

I was wearing black pants and white boxers. I guess people weren’t at all looking at the toilet paper. It would seem I owe some people an apology especially the lady downtown with her three young children that I chastised about staring at me for no reason. It now seems they had one.

 

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