Al Gore's Revenge, by Steve Barber
Monday, May 04 2009 @ 12:00 AM MST
Views: 337
Views: 337
'Political' AND 'scientific' humor from one of our favorite contributors. A double, so to speak. Enjoy...and please, don't squeeze the Village. Humor Editor
Al Gore's Revenge, by Steve Barber
I'm the furthest thing from a conspiracy theorist you'll ever find. The world's full enough of nutzoids and their nutzo causes, and it's not my nature to add to it. But when egregious crimes are committed under our noses -- or, more accurately, under our backsides, it's time for action. So I'm here to tell you there’s a conspiracy afoot, and it’s a bad one. It’s a toilet paper conspiracy. Laugh if you want, but it’s true. I've been hesitant to bring it up for discussion because people don’t like to think about toilet paper any more than they like to think their parents ever had sex (they did, you know). But I have to take that chance. Toilet paper is far too indispensible. This threat cannot be ignored any longer.
Before I get into it further, it's best to understand why toilet paper is important, so let’s get a little history of anal cleansing behind us.
Back in ancient times, people used clamshells, animal skins, non-poisonous leaves, bunches of grass or other vegetable-based material to “do the job.” The ancient Romans had sea sponges tied to sticks, and they soaked the sponges in salt water. I don't know if they were communal sponges or if each individual had his or her own sponge, but neither alternative sounds particularly appealing. Later on people made good use of corncobs and Sears catalogues. But sometime in the late 1800s, an enterprising company developed the idea of rolling up lightweight pulp paper and selling it as a personal cleansing product. From what I’ve been able to learn, the idea was well-received, especially once they figured out how to get rid of the splinters.
We soon came into the Golden Age of Toilet Paper, personified by Mr. Whipple and “don’t squeeze the Charmin®.” The race was on to find fluffier and even softer alternatives. It worked for a while. But times have changed. Which brings me to my point.
I went to a restaurant the other day and, after sufficient food and drink, nature called. So I worked my way into the restroom, found an unoccupied stall, and did what I had to do. Then I went to grab me some toilet paper.
The roll was sitting there in plain view, but it was locked inside a clear, plastic box. The box was bolted to the wall. I guess they were afraid someone might want to steal the box or the toilet paper. But that wasn't my real problem. My real problem was that I have big hands and this clear plastic box had a small opening. Somehow though, I managed to work two fingers inside and snagged a tiny edge of paper. I inched it down and managed to pull out enough to get things rolling.
Something was wrong. The paper didn’t look right at all, but I had to do what I had to do, so I made due. After I finished, I pulled off a six-inch long TP sample, stuck it into an evidence bag and took it back to my home forensic laboratory. For control purposes, I also pulled off an equal length of toilet paper from my home dispenser, which is neither locked nor covered by a plastic dispenser.
Here's what I discovered.
My home toilet paper measured 4 ¼ inches in width, and consisted of multiple plies. The restaurant's paper was only single ply and measured in at an anemic 3 ½ inches in width.
Yes, I measured them.
Now this difference in width might not seem significant to you, but I think it's important to note that my ass doesn't get proportionally smaller when I'm in a restaurant’s men’s room. So who's doing this to our toilet paper? And why?
Me, I blame Al Gore. Who else would value the life of a tree over hundreds of pristine American bottoms? Who else would be willing to invade our bathrooms and bring the full force of government to bear on our butts? Who else has the ear of Washington, D.C., and the time to carry out such a dastardly plan? He has the means, the motive, and the opportunity. How's that for an Inconvienient Truth?
Here's what I fear. I'm afraid he's only starting with restaurant toilet paper. I expect that soon he'll be moving on to office buildings, airports, and bus stations. Next will come schools and shopping malls. Government offices will probably be exempt, but those people always take care of themselves, so there are no surprises there.
The final straw will be when he brings the teeny toilet paper into the stores and pulls the good stuff off the shelves. Government agents will be in next to change and lock all the home receptacles. I'll bet they keep the key, too.
People, wise up. Change is in the air. And change isn't always such a good thing. Don't write your Congresscrittter or you'll wind up on a list somewhere and black helicopters will land on your lawn in no time. You're better off stockpiling your Great Northern®, Cottonelle®, or Soft 'N Gentle®. Stock up on your junk mail and corncobs too, and while you're at it you might want to print out and save this article. It might come in more handy than you ever dreamed possible.
Al Gore's Revenge, by Steve Barber
I'm the furthest thing from a conspiracy theorist you'll ever find. The world's full enough of nutzoids and their nutzo causes, and it's not my nature to add to it. But when egregious crimes are committed under our noses -- or, more accurately, under our backsides, it's time for action. So I'm here to tell you there’s a conspiracy afoot, and it’s a bad one. It’s a toilet paper conspiracy. Laugh if you want, but it’s true. I've been hesitant to bring it up for discussion because people don’t like to think about toilet paper any more than they like to think their parents ever had sex (they did, you know). But I have to take that chance. Toilet paper is far too indispensible. This threat cannot be ignored any longer.
Before I get into it further, it's best to understand why toilet paper is important, so let’s get a little history of anal cleansing behind us.
Back in ancient times, people used clamshells, animal skins, non-poisonous leaves, bunches of grass or other vegetable-based material to “do the job.” The ancient Romans had sea sponges tied to sticks, and they soaked the sponges in salt water. I don't know if they were communal sponges or if each individual had his or her own sponge, but neither alternative sounds particularly appealing. Later on people made good use of corncobs and Sears catalogues. But sometime in the late 1800s, an enterprising company developed the idea of rolling up lightweight pulp paper and selling it as a personal cleansing product. From what I’ve been able to learn, the idea was well-received, especially once they figured out how to get rid of the splinters.
We soon came into the Golden Age of Toilet Paper, personified by Mr. Whipple and “don’t squeeze the Charmin®.” The race was on to find fluffier and even softer alternatives. It worked for a while. But times have changed. Which brings me to my point.
I went to a restaurant the other day and, after sufficient food and drink, nature called. So I worked my way into the restroom, found an unoccupied stall, and did what I had to do. Then I went to grab me some toilet paper.
The roll was sitting there in plain view, but it was locked inside a clear, plastic box. The box was bolted to the wall. I guess they were afraid someone might want to steal the box or the toilet paper. But that wasn't my real problem. My real problem was that I have big hands and this clear plastic box had a small opening. Somehow though, I managed to work two fingers inside and snagged a tiny edge of paper. I inched it down and managed to pull out enough to get things rolling.
Something was wrong. The paper didn’t look right at all, but I had to do what I had to do, so I made due. After I finished, I pulled off a six-inch long TP sample, stuck it into an evidence bag and took it back to my home forensic laboratory. For control purposes, I also pulled off an equal length of toilet paper from my home dispenser, which is neither locked nor covered by a plastic dispenser.
Here's what I discovered.
My home toilet paper measured 4 ¼ inches in width, and consisted of multiple plies. The restaurant's paper was only single ply and measured in at an anemic 3 ½ inches in width.
Yes, I measured them.
Now this difference in width might not seem significant to you, but I think it's important to note that my ass doesn't get proportionally smaller when I'm in a restaurant’s men’s room. So who's doing this to our toilet paper? And why?
Me, I blame Al Gore. Who else would value the life of a tree over hundreds of pristine American bottoms? Who else would be willing to invade our bathrooms and bring the full force of government to bear on our butts? Who else has the ear of Washington, D.C., and the time to carry out such a dastardly plan? He has the means, the motive, and the opportunity. How's that for an Inconvienient Truth?
Here's what I fear. I'm afraid he's only starting with restaurant toilet paper. I expect that soon he'll be moving on to office buildings, airports, and bus stations. Next will come schools and shopping malls. Government offices will probably be exempt, but those people always take care of themselves, so there are no surprises there.
The final straw will be when he brings the teeny toilet paper into the stores and pulls the good stuff off the shelves. Government agents will be in next to change and lock all the home receptacles. I'll bet they keep the key, too.
People, wise up. Change is in the air. And change isn't always such a good thing. Don't write your Congresscrittter or you'll wind up on a list somewhere and black helicopters will land on your lawn in no time. You're better off stockpiling your Great Northern®, Cottonelle®, or Soft 'N Gentle®. Stock up on your junk mail and corncobs too, and while you're at it you might want to print out and save this article. It might come in more handy than you ever dreamed possible.