stand up to your feces and the Government

It doesn't surprise me that toilet paper is white. You know why? I'll tell you....It's just another way for the Government to keep your flourishing minds in check. What better way to suck the confidence out of it's headstrong, forward-thinking, romantic, tough-loving, spiritually wealthy citizens than to force them to see their shit on a virginally white piece of toilet paper?

When I buy clothes, I think about what color I'm buying and what a mess is going to look like on it. When people buy cars they think about the same thing. Is white going to cause me to go to the car wash every other day? Yes. So we choose dark so that stains and dirt and the like will not show up every time we make a mistake. Why then, when toilet paper is made very specifically to encounter the worst of all messes daily, is it white? The color of God, Marriage, the "light" people calmly drift towards when life is expiring, christmas snow, Snow White, printing paper, cocaine, and last but not least, traditional American socks! I know you're thinking, "Anthony, you silly goose, it's made out cotton. Cotton's white." Well, dear friend, you are correct. Cotton is white, but we seem to be able to dye it when ever we need to: shirts, slacks, trousers, long shorts....etc.

See? They could make T.P. brown or maroon or black or something. On white, we as humans are guilty of looking every time. You'd be weird if you didn't. And sometimes you have to look every time, because your B.H. seems to be defying the laws of lessening feces. Meaning, the mess gets bigger every time you wipe. It is on those HUMAN occasions that we get a bit depressed with every snapshot of accumulating poo (and the image sticks with us, whether we admit it or not), and leave the bathroom at work, the bookstore, the library, the magazine hut, etc. feeling like we should just take some time alone and let our bodies settle down before we go try to have a conversation, get a pop, or touch a lover. We are paranoid that everyone is going to know that we just got done having a panic attack while staring at all the inexplicable poop happening inside our beautiful bodies.

There should be no recovery period people! Get back to work! The world needs you! Don't let the cotton tycoons/governmental minions have their way with your conscience. Bring your own T.P. or color each slice brown bef0re you use it. Walk out of the bathroom with a sense of relief, rather relentless depression.

Also, is it weird to read a newspaper that someone has left in the stall? That was my real question. Sorry it took me so long to get out.

COMCAST, you know what I'm gonna do to you?

First I'm gonna buy some steaks and throw them on the grill and invite you over for a romantic style cookout on my 35th floor candle lit deck. I'm gonna stare you down sensually while I poke them and flip them in the grill. I will blow slow kisses right at your face and hair, I'm gonna talk to you softly and rub your WHOLE body, not just the fun parts like some amateur. Shoulder rub, forehead kissing, back stroking, then on to what surely is going to be the sweetest love making you have ever been exposed to. Then I stand you up and stare in your eyes. "Brace yourself Comcast, cause I'm gonna rock your knees."

Then I push you off the balcony and eat my steak.

night night