Thursday, October 19

The Bog

Tell me, men, what is it exactly that you guys do on the toilet? No, seriously, what is it that compels you to spend half an hour to forty minutes on the porcelain altar? I have a housemate - not to mention past boyfriends - that actually spend this kind of time on the bog.

I'm compelled to question this strange behaviour until I am presented with a satisfactory response. Are there no better places to read a book/study your toenails/decipher skin and hair patterns on the tops of your feet? Because surely these are pasttimes better suited to other rooms in the house. So, really, WHAT IS IT YOU DO?? Are you communing with the gods? Are signs of the future to be read in your stool?

Anyone.

Please explain this strange compulsion.

13 comments:

Lily said...

Maybe its the sheer pleasure of being able to dangle unconstricted that keeps them there?

Lammervanger said...

The liberation of the perfect stool is one of the most satisfying things that can happen to me on any given day. And I'm prepared to wait on the runway for it. Even if the subsequent lack of circulation means that I have to crawl back to whatever I was busy with before.

dorothy said...

you see - maybe this is just me - i never have to wait for it. my colon starts speaking to me, i listen, respond quickly and efficiently (no matter how much pleasure) and then the conversation is over.

Michael-john said...

Okay - think of it this way … nobody is going to disturb you … it is the one place where you can sit, chill, daydream ….whatever … without external interference. Then there is the satisfaction of “the liberation of the perfect stool” …a feeling of total achievement … it is almost zen like !

dorothy said...

hey michael! haven't seen you about in a while.
you see, i'm still not satisfied, because it seems bizarre that someone would sit in a loo for forty minutes contemplating a turd.

Michael-john said...

Welcome back yourself ! …

Lets see ! “contemplating a turd” …

No ... we could be contemplating anything. the easiers way to think of it is well ... think of it as a little bit of escapism… a place to get away from it all …..

Lily said...

Oh come on now Dorothy, bet sometime in the past you've spent forty minutes contemplating a waste of space (did you see what I did there?)aka 'man in my life'?

Lily said...

Ahem, 'person in my life'. Apologies for the heterosexist assumption. Was thinking of one's own experience while posting post.

joser said...

Once that bathroom door closes, it's a different world of it's own. Time does not exist once that door closes. I'll grab a book or magazine and take my time reading. No rush. 40 minutes seems really long, but at times, I might sit a while because I didn't let it marinate. Then it's the waiting game, but as long as I got something to read, it's all bueno.

Sparky said...

you forget, that all you women folk have equally disturbing toilet traits.

when last did you see a herd of straight men run to the toilet in a giggling horde? We don't do that...but women do.

dorothy said...

lily - you sound like you have some very interesting stories about contemplating tur- i mean, men - in your life :)
sparky - pishposh, i can't remember when last i saw a bunch of girls clamouring for the bathroom together. you've been watching too much tv. :P

Lammervanger said...

Dorothy, I'm not actually contemplating the turd while sitting on the throne. What I'm doing is to try and devise yet another futile attempt to view the trophy. A perfect stool usually has the capacity to gain enough momentum to navigate the U-bend by itself, nanoseconds after impact. It is then as if it never happened. A crime scene without a clue... The cleaning up afterwards is not unlike having a hearty, enjoyable meal either - a mere dabbing of the corners of the mouth and then simply toss the napkin into the plate...

I hope things are more clear now.

Pienk Zuit said...

dorothy, why did you have to let lammervanger loose on a subject like this?