Toilet Paper - Over or Under?

Toilet Paper - How do you put it?

  • Total voters
    108
TheNinja

TheNinja

Steel Belt
@Steel
Joined
Mar 8, 2005
Messages
29,679
Reaction score
19,039
Toilet Paper - Over, Under, Don't pay attention, don't use a holder

tp-static-image-1553113807.jpg
 
Under. The entire point is you have to pull your paper.

Over, if you pull too hard, the roll keeps going. Over is anti-physics and WRONG.
 
Senzo Tanaka said:
Under. The entire point is you have to pull your paper.

Over, if you pull too hard, the roll keeps going. Over is anti-physics and WRONG.
Click to expand...
Over is actually correct from a santiary point of view, and since that is the primary consideration in a bathroom, this question has a right and wrong answer. You answered wrong, my friend.
 
Over is the correct answer. If you do it under then you will be bumping against the wall, cabinet, or whatever your TP dispenser is attached to.
 
FyrFytr998 said:
Over, but the real answer is Wet Wipes.
Click to expand...

Let me disabuse you of the "real answer" with a story that should be a cautionary tale for any other clowns here who believe verbatim product labels.

Before I moved to Colorado I was about to sell my house in NJ. My bro visited from abroad in January and we were doing showings in Feb. Him and I went to Costco to get a few things for home and he saw wet wipes and his eyes instantly lit up. "What the fuck is it", I thought, when he explained that he greatly preferred wet wipes for his toilet throne pilgrimages, as their texture and moisture made every defecatory adventure feel royal, and his anus was treated to a majestic cleaning experience unlike any a peasantly dry TP could produce, no matter the softness or ply count.
Not knowing any better, I acquiesced to what to me was a strange flight of fancy, but I'd been away from my homeland for so long by that point that I could not meaningfully argue that the request was unusual - what did I know what they wiped they taint with back there, after all these years? The label said they were flushable, and all that mattered to me at that stage was to uphold my reputation as a gracious host and a good brother.
Fast forward to February. My brother had departed back to homeland, his anus squeaky clean and, I imagine, pleasantly fragrant. My house showings were coming up on a Saturday. On Wednesday prior, I had noticed that the toilet downstairs had a bit of trouble flushing, the water level rising and then ever so slowly going down. "Peculiar, but not quite alarming", I thought to myself, ignoring the issue and simply putting a piece of paper on top of the toilet with a message to my real estate agent not to have potential buyers use it during the showings. I left for the next few days, enjoying an Airbnb with my wife and dogs in South Jersey, eating local pizza, pounding local brewskis, and watching Karate Kid on VHS the house had. Quaint.
Upon our return, no longer thinking about the toilet and more focused on 4 offers we got for the house, all of them solidly above asking. We decided on the second highest because the top one looked as shady as a guy offering you a hotdog they pulled straight out of their pocket. The offer we took was good, and we had two weeks before an inspection would occur. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, as the saying goes.
But the Lovecraftean deities that run our wretched existence had other plans, plans that would reveal themselves with a slow inevitability that gives away very little insight into the scale of the impending calamity, until the very last moment when the true nature of horrors is all at once revealed.
The Tuesday after we accepted the offer, wife noticed water pooling around the shower cabin in the same toilet that had previously presented an issue flushing. "What cursed fuckery is this now?", I thought as I reached for a plunger, naively hoping that my predicament could be resolved with a $15 stick suction cup. "Smells weird", wife casually quipped as I was trying in vain to get the water to drain. A few minutes into my pointless exercise I decided I'd stop and check in an hour and see if the water would go away of its own accord, an act of naive denial well familiar to camp horror movie fans everywhere. And, of course, after an hour the water was indeed gone. My job done, I decided to reward myself by opening a beer and relaxing with wife and dogs watching Impractical Jokers. Why do I remember what we were watching? Because what was about to unfold was the biggest joke of all - less so for me than for the timeless horrors that observe us all from without.
On Wednesday morning I did not go downstairs. I didn't need to, as that was where the laundry room was, and our living room, master bedroom and kitchen were upstairs. What business did I have going downstairs on a Wednesday? Wife and I got ready and went to the gym. Upon returning, I took a quick shower, the episode from the night before well gone from my memory. But not for long.
Deciding to bring my gym stuff downstairs to the laundry room will haunt me for as long as I live.
I walked downstairs, lights were not on so it was semi dark. I stepped off the last stair, and before dread and panic had the chance to envelop me fully, I heard a sloshing sound. Slosh. Slosh.... slosh. I hesitated to turn the lights on because I did not want to give credence to the notion that was rapidly forming in my head. But I had no choice.

The entire lower floor of the house was an inch deep in water. And not any kind of water, which by itself is enough to make an adult man cry, but fucking sewage water. The smell that up to that point somehow didn't yet invade my brain suddenly arrived like a tsunami. I felt dizzy for a moment, but fortunately found enough fortitude to not collapse, stepping back onto the staircase until I could make sense of what had just transpired.

The next 24 hours even now feel like a blur, something that happened to someone else, my brain having detached me from it in a manner not dissimilar to that experienced by trauma victims.

I eventually went into the downstairs bathroom to better understand the situation. As by now everyone can guess, the cursed toilet was where the water came from. All of it. Shit water from what at the time looked like the entire tri state area. What do I do? Water had receded in the toilet after having flooded, leaving behind a bowl 3/4 full of shit and things worse than shit. In a last-ditch, desperate hope that the carnage has ended, using my two latex-gloved hands I dredged shit into a can until none was left. I used every towel in the house to immediately soak up the shitwater on the floor, and tried to wipe shit off the walls and cabinets. Once I felt somewhat in control, I called a crew to come over and unclog the wretched throne. Arriving with a 7 hour delay due to a snowstorm, the two stocky veterans of many a toilet war found their first weapon (hand snake) outmatched by the severity of the clog and had to drive forth and back another 3 hours to get the heavy artillery. After eventually draining the ever-loving shit out of the toilet (literally and figuratively), they left, $500 richer, but at that point I'd have paid many times more just to bring an end to the ordeal. After they left, I spent the next 8 hours cleaning, removing my entire lower floor's laminate flooring board by board to get all the water, disinfecting everything with enough Clorox to commit a genocide, using industrial-grade fans to dry everything, and, ultimately, collapsing in a heap in my upstairs bathroom, praying for the sweet release of death.

The crew that unclogged the toilet said the majority of the clog was caused by flushable motherfucking wipes. They told me that the company that sold them was being sued because, surprise, surprise, the fucking things are not flushable.

Things eventually worked out and the house was fixed and sold, but the real cost of the ordeal I carry like an invisible cross every day of my life, a cold sweat bead emerging on my forehead every time I see someone put those fucking things in their cart at the supermarket.

Do. Not. Fuck. With. Flushable wipes.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Latest posts

Forum statistics

Threads
1,280,990
Messages
58,333,683
Members
176,002
Latest member
Shock7

Share this page

Back
Top