Jacks

Tri wrote: »

Would your arse not get cold??

course it doesn't get cold, big hairy arse on me, so I can take as long as I want when Im dropping the cosbys off to the swimming pool.

Now hold on a second. As men, we all work hard, we get nagged, we get asked questions and we have to do stuff.

The *holy* sanctuary of the sh*tter must never be spoken of in a negative light. Sitting there, with the door locked, the satisfaction of unloading yesterdays dinner, reminiscing of how that cheeky little pea made a break for it and almost made it off your plate..the way the mash was so soft and warm...the steak, the supple sacrafice of the steak, it's a celebration.

Then you have a moment to take stock of your life. Think back to any significant events of the last 24 hours, "how could I have done that better? Could I have done things differently?" or "The way I handled that was text book. That's going down as the official code of conduct for next time". It's a learning curve of life, a process if you will.

Then the playful side of the dump can come up, ohhh...remember that hotty in the supermarket earlier? Ho ho, I've been saving that one in the w@nk bank for quite some time. Time to cash in. Post poo **** are an art form. During the poo, the different usuage of muscles directly conflicts with eachother - scientists believe it is not possible to have a **** and poo at the same time. General guidelines suggest a courtesy flush as the smell of your own ass can be off putting. Some choose to combine this with their wiping time so as to cut down on crustation time and also, just to get it out of the way, as there's a whole new mess coming in a minute and you don't want to leave too much work to the end so as to deminish the experience and you certainly don't want the two mixing in anyway at any part of your body.

It's also a good oppertunity to actualy learn something, to read a book. If we remove ourselves to the couch their are too many distractions - other people, the TV, the dog, whatever it is - no man has ever read a book on a couch or comfortable chair - every piece of knowledge has been obtained in the toilet. I have covered a number of novels over several months of pit stops. (The DiVinci code has a poo stain on page 118 - I learned to my horror after my brother in law pointed this out to me after lending him the book - the perpitrator is still up for debate, I don't think I would be so reckless so he could have been making a pre-emptive strike in case I go through the book again - which I never do - I remember what happens and it'll happen exactly the same if I read the book twice) I don't think I have read more than 3 paragraphs of any publication outside of the toilet.

Yet I am aware that herbal essence combines the fruits of the amazon with mountain dew freshness to bring to you the ultimate "exotic" bathing experience. It also supports an anti-vivisection campaign by Uncaged Campaigns. I could only have learned that on the toilet.

So the question isn't why do men spend so much time on the toilet, the real question is why don't we have an office in their.

PSP + Final Fantasy VII (Or wireless router <cof cof>) = me standing still for quite some time when I finally get around to wiping. Standing there. Motionless. For at least ten minutes waiting for the pain in my legs to subside. Not pleasant.

As a bonus you do get lovely red marks on your thighs.