Bold truths from cable television

Although I am blessed with a love who does not barge in whilst I'm expelling waste products (however, we will NOT get into her behavior while I'm taking a shower), there are those males cursed with women who believe a bathroom door is an open door. This declaration, pulled from an episode of "Coupling," is an example of a treatise - nay, proclamation - for those cervix-impaired souls suffering...er...suffering...ummmm...

Is it just me, or is "cervix" the most unpoetic word in the English language? It sounds like a Star Trek planet. (Insert your favorite Fallopian joke here.) No wonder hardly anyone uses that word: it instantly kills the art in a sentence. It poisons entire paragraphs with just one mention. Yo, any gynos out there? Let's come up with a new name! I don't care what - you could call it "Betty Lou!" Anything is better than "cervix!" "Now, let's see which diaphram fits your Betty Lou...a 60, no, a 70...80? 105?!? What the hell?! Virgin, my ass! Have you been smuggling Mexican children across the border?"

Anyway, this declaration is for those men suffering from privacy-impaired mates who believe that the bathroom is a perfect place to discuss your relationship, especially if he's doing #2 and trying to read his Sports Illustrated in peace.

We are MEN.

Throughout history we have always needed, in times of difficulties, to retreat to our caves. It so happens, in this modern age, that our caves are fully plumbed. The toilet for us is..... the last bastion......... the final refuge....... the LAST FEW SQUARE FEET of "man space" left to us.

Somewhere to sit, somewhere to read, something to do. And who gives a DAMN about the smell! But that, for us, is happiness. Because we are MEN. We are different. We have only one word for soap. We do not own candles. We have never seen anything of ANY value IN A CRAFTSHOP! We do not own magazines full of photographs of celebrities with all their clothes... ON!

When we have conversations, we actually TAKE IT IN TURNS TO TALK!

We have not yet reached the level of EARTHSHATTERING BOREDOM and INHUMAN DESPAIR where we would have a haircut... RECREATIONALLY!!

We do not know how to get excited about really, REALLY BORING THINGS like ornaments... bath oil... the countryside... vases... small churches. I mean, we do not even know what, WHAT, in the name of GOD'S ARSE is the purpose of POTPOURRI!! Looks like breakfast; smells like your auntie. Why do we need that??

So please..... in this strange and frightening world..... allow us one last place to call our own. This toilet. This.... blessed pot, this...... fortress of solitude.

You girls..... you only go to the toilet in groups of two or more. We do not pass comment. We do not make judgement. That is your choice.

But we men..... will ALWAYS walk the toilet mile.... ALONE!

Comments

[eighmie]

I have only one thing to say, good to have you back. Wonderful rant, but if you are a man, and there is only one toilet in the house and other people are awake, show some retraint, I sometimes barge in an take a shower just so I can pee, but that is another story entirely... good to hear your voice again..