How is it that we’re able to put people in space, clone sheep, conceive a baby in a petri dish, wipe out crippling diseases like Polio, but yet we-- as a civilized society-- can’t develop a more humane way of holding our fucking rolls of toilet paper together?
And to be honest, I don’t even know why we have to hold them together at all. I mean, from the time I take it out of the tightly-packed plastic bag-like material in my closet and I walk it three feet to my bathroom, I honestly can’t imagine having any sort of tragic unravelling incident in the hallway that only the use of industrial-strength rubber cement would prevent.
Of all the moments in my day, I can think of no other time where I would rather fight with a roll of toilet paper less than while sitting on the shitter. Do the toilet paper companies think I’ve got a fucking Swiss Army Knife sitting next to the can? Am I supposed to?!? Because performing this meatball surgery with my fingernails only seems to leave me with a tattered fucking wad, with random little pieces of toilet paper jutting out willy and nilly, stuck to other sheets by some unknown hell-spawned industrial adhesive (that I’m now supposed to RUB ACROSS MY ASS BY THE WAY?!?). At least give me a little red zip string to pull, like they give you in packs of LifeSavers. Or. Or at the VERY least give me a little arrow that says “pull this way.” Cuz half the time I can’t even tell where the actual glued end is because I’m pretty sure they fold the end over once or twice before they glue it to the roll, just to fuck with me, so I don’t know which way the paper is even running! You diabolical fucks!
So right now, as I type this, there is a roll of toilet paper hanging off my wall with chunks of paper missing from the entire perimeter, a good half-inch deep in some spots. Not to mention, my battle with this fucking thing has damaged the cardboard tube in the middle so horribly that it’s really got no hope of ever rolling smoothly. That means for the entire life of this roll, I’m doomed to pull down not more than a square and a half before the tension created by the football-shaped tube rips it off in my hands, which will no doubt be trembling from anger and blood lust.
I’d propose a fucking boycott, but the only alternative I’ve ever heard of is a corncob. And I’m not exactly sure how I’m supposed to use that to wipe my ass.
Maybe I am just overtired but this is the funniest thing I have read in a while.
As much as I agree with the OP, sorry, I’m not down with the boycott. I am not trading in my quilted, padded, cuddly soft TP for a corncob or the Sears catalog.
I’m not exactly buying Fat Bob’s Super-Discounted Butt-Wipe Tissue Rolls; I get Scott Brand. Neither cheap nor at the bottom of Consumer Report’s list. Plus, aside from the mind-numbing adhesive at the beginning of the roll, I like the way it works. It’s not too…“thick.”
Some brands of TP here (South Korea) are held together via a very simple method: there’s a strip of regular paper wrapped around it. Other brands have the entire roll wrapped in non-decorated gift-wrapping paper. A pretty popular alternative to the paper is the bidet style toilet seat.
If you’re that satisfied with the paper, over-all, I’d suggest dealing with the problem from the other end. (Wait - the other direction? No, that’s just as bad) From another angle. You know that you’ll often have problems starting new rolls of TP. You don’t want to have to be fumbling for things when you need to get to the toilet, but this is really getting on your nerves. May I suggest putting a letter opener in the bathroom? Maybe attached to a chain, like pens in banks are - so it’s not something you have to remember, but something you’ve got in place for anytime you might need it.
Or even better, when you buy the package of them, open them as soon as you get them home and start them then. Then when you pull them out of the package to use, they’re ready to go.
Nice rant, though!
Where’s Oakminster? This one should have a rating.
And the award for the least amount of mechanical aptitude of all the SDMB memebers goes to:
::: Rips open envelope::: Happy Lendervedder
::: Wild aplause, band starts to play:::
Happy can’t be here tonight, he is stuck in the shitter, trying to start a new roll of TP.
Beautiful rant! And I’m a “Scott Girl” myself, so I can attest to the beauty that is the thin tissue. The thousand sheets saves me the hassle of changing the roll more than once a week. And I find it to be softer – much softer – than Charmin or the other major competitors.
Scott had it going on with the “easy start” roll for a while, but it appears that’s been traded in for the old style glued version you lament about in the OP. It truly is maddening!
Excellent OP! I use Charmin myself, and don’t have this problem.
However, have you ever tried to start a roll of cheap-assed puplic restroom paper? While forming a “claw” with your hand, trying to find the end that you can’t even see? While having to maintain a sitting position. I’ve even resorted to trying to pick the stupid lock on the dispenser. (It can’t be done with a fingernail, and I can’t reach my purse for a nailfile or anything.)
Why these janitors can’t start the roll for you before locking it in the dispenser is a mystery.
Forget the TP – first pass, use those adult wet-wipe things. Faster and far more comfy than TP, and you can use a bit of paper after to dry things up. They work way better than dry paper alone.
What are you supposed to do with the corn cob when you’re done with it? I’m guessing you can’t flush it. And I wouldn’t want to drop a shit-covered cob in the trash can without wrapping it in something first. (Obviously toilet paper is out of the question…)
John Spartan: [whispering to Lenina] Look, I don’t know if you guys know it, but uh… you’re out of toilet paper. Alfredo Garcia: [confused] Did… did you say toilet paper? Lenina Huxley: Um… they used handfuls of wadded paper back in the 20th…
[Lenina, Alfredo, and Erwin all laugh] John Spartan: I’m happy that you’re happy, but the place where you’re supposed to have the toilet paper, you’ve got this little shelf with three seashells on it. Erwin: He doesn’t know how to use the three seashells!
[Erwin continues to laugh, then calms down] Erwin: I can see how that could be confusing.
My mother purchases the communist grade of Scott Brand toilet paper, and I’ve never had a problem with freeing the attached sheet from the roll without toilet paper carnage. Maybe I’m just extra handy, but I don’t see what’s so difficult.
