maxshenk <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
Old habits Die Hard.
--- In [email protected], Diane Lochner
<[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
>
> Well, this ought to jumpstart the puns...
>
>
> maxshenk <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
> Arrest this man for battery!
>
> --- In [email protected], "James" <ttlsccr@>
> wrote:
> >
> > In fact they seem to Energizer. Thump thump, thump thump.
> >
> > --- In [email protected], "Ellen"
> > <ellengoodman6@> wrote:
> > >
> > > Deprecating comments from people who live hundreds or thousands
> of
> > > miles away that I wouldn't recognize if I tripped over them
don't
> > > affect me much, no.
> > >
> > > --- In [email protected], "maxshenk"
> > > <brianmargo67@> wrote:
> > > >
> > > > Well, you've survived this chat so far, so I'd say you're
> pretty
> > > much
> > > > bulletproof.
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > --- In [email protected], "Ellen"
> > > > <ellengoodman6@> wrote:
> > > > >
> > > > > well I've survived this long without any major health
> problems,
> > > so
> > > > I
> > > > > figure if public restrooms haven't killed me yet they
> probably
> > > > > won't. I think it is like not swimming after eating and
all
> > > that.
> > > > > Epidemics were more common back then.
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > --- In [email protected], "dvm8375"
> > > > > <muellerdana@> wrote:
> > > > > >
> > > > > > My grandmother instilled the FEAR OF THE PUBLIC TOILET
GERM
> > in
> > > me
> > > > > at
> > > > > > a very young age, and try as I might, I will never
overcome
> > > it.
> > > > I
> > > > > > can't even force myself to sit on a toilet at work, which
I
> > > know
> > > > is
> > > > > > very clean. However, what I find odd, is that I have no
> > > problem
> > > > > > sitting on a hotel toilet seat. Somehow that doesn't
seem
> > > public
> > > > > to
> > > > > > me.
> > > > > >
> > > > > >
> > > > > >
> > > > > > --- In [email protected], Diane Lochner
> > > > > > <dlochund@> wrote:
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > A friend forwarded it to me...so I have no idea who
wrote
> > it
> > > or
> > > > > > what the original source was. I remember my grandmother,
I
> > was
> > > > > > about nine or ten, instructing me in proper public toilet
> > > > > behavior.
> > > > > > To this day, the very first thing I do is check to see if
> > there
> > > > is
> > > > > > t.p. in the dispenser.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > Ellen <ellengoodman6@> wrote: where did you get this
> > from?
> > > I
> > > > > > personally was never instructed to use
> > > > > > > toilet seat covers and/or hover, so I haven't had the
> > extent
> > > of
> > > > > > this
> > > > > > > experience, although lack of hook, lack of door lock,
and
> > > lack
> > > > of
> > > > > > > toilet paper, as well as automatic flushers and
automatic
> > > sinks
> > > > > are
> > > > > > > constant irritations. I always thought the toilet seat
> > cover
> > > > > > business
> > > > > > > was ridiculous--I don't think the part of your body
that
> is
> > > > > > actually
> > > > > > > in contact with the toilet seat is the part with the
> > germs.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > --- In [email protected], Diane Lochner
> > > > > > > <dlochund@> wrote:
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Prior Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Peeing !
> > > > > > > > Women's Trip to the Restroom
> > > > > > > > Is this true? I think it's just a cover up for why u
> all
> > > take
> > > > so
> > > > > > > long! New & Revised 6 P's:
> > > > > > > > My mother was a fanatic about public bathrooms. When
I
> > was
> > > a
> > > > > > little
> > > > > > > > girl, she'd take me into the stall, teach me to wad
up
> > > toilet
> > > > > > paper
> > > > > > > and
> > > > > > > > wipe the seat. Then, she'd carefully lay strips of
> toilet
> > > > paper
> > > > > > to
> > > > > > > cover
> > > > > > > > the seat. Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, NEVER sit
on
> a
> > > > public
> > > > > > > toilet
> > > > > > > > seat.
> > > > > > > > Then she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consisted
of
> > > > > > balancing over
> > > > > > > > the toilet in a sitting position without actually
> > letting
> > > > any
> > > > > > of your
> > > > > > > > flesh make contact with the toilet seat.
> > > > > > > > By this time, I'd have wet down my leg and we'd have
> to
> > go
> > > > > home
> > > > > > to
> > > > > > > > change my clothes. That was a long time ago. Even
now,
> in
> > > my
> > > > > > more
> > > > > > > > "mature years, The Stance" is excruciatingly
difficult
> > to
> > > > > > > > maintain, especially when one's bladder is full.
> > > > > > > > When you have to "go" in a public bathroom, you
> usually
> > > find
> > > > a
> > > > > > line of
> > > > > > > > women that makes you think there's a half-price sale
on
> > > > Nelly's
> > > > > > > > underwear in there. So, you wait and smile politely
at
> > all
> > > > the
> > > > > > other
> > > > > > > > ladies, who are also crossing their legs and smiling
> > > > politely.
> > > > > > > > You get closer and check for feet under the stall
> doors.
> > > > Every
> > > > > > one is
> > > > > > > > occupied. Finally, a door opens and you dash in,
nearly
> > > > > knocking
> > > > > > down
> > > > > > > > the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the
> door
> > > > won't
> > > > > > > latch. It
> > > > > > > > doesn't matter. The dispenser for the new
fangled "seat
> > > > covers"
> > > > > > > > (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but
> > empty.
> > > > You
> > > > > > would
> > > > > > > > hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one,
but
> > > there
> > > > > > isn't
> > > > > > > - so
> > > > > > > > you carefully but quickly hang it around your neck
> (Mom
> > > > would
> > > > > > turn
> > > > > > > over
> > > > > > > > in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down
> your
> > > > > pants,
> > > > > > and
> > > > > > > > assume "The Stance."
> > > > > > > > Ahhhh, relief. More relief. But then your thighs
begin
> to
> > > > > shake.
> > > > > > You'd
> > > > > > > > love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time
> to
> > > wipe
> > > > > > the seat
> > > > > > > > or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance"
as
> > your
> > > > > > thighs
> > > > > > > > experience a quake that would register an eight on
the
> > > Richter
> > > > > > > scale. To
> > > > > > > > take your mind off of your trembling thighs, you
reach
> > for
> > > > what
> > > > > > you
> > > > > > > > discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In
> your
> > > > mind,
> > > > > > you can
> > > > > > > > hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you would
> > have
> > > > > tried
> > > > > > to
> > > > > > > > clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no
> toilet
> > > > > paper!"
> > > > > > Your
> > > > > > > > thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that
> you
> > > blew
> > > > > > your nose
> > > > > > > > on yesterday -the one that's still in your purse.
That
> > > would
> > > > > > have to
> > > > > > > do.
> > > > > > > > You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It is
> still
> > > > > smaller
> > > > > > than
> > > > > > > > your thumbnail.
> > > > > > > > Someone pushes open your stall door because the
latch
> > > > doesn't
> > > > > > work.
> > > > > > > The
> > > > > > > > door hits your purse, which is hanging around your
neck
> > in
> > > > > front
> > > > > > of
> > > > > > > your
> > > > > > > > chest, and you and your purse topple backward
against
> > the
> > > > tank
> > > > > > of the
> > > > > > > > toilet.
> > > > > > > > "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door,
> > dropping
> > > > > > your
> > > > > > > > precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle, and
> sliding
> > > > down,
> > > > > > directly
> > > > > > > > onto the insidious toilet seat. You bolt up, knowing
> all
> > > too
> > > > > > well that
> > > > > > > > it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with
> > every
> > > > > > imaginable
> > > > > > > > germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU
> > never
> > > > laid
> > > > > > down
> > > > > > > > toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you
had
> > > taken
> > > > > > time to
> > > > > > > > try.
> > > > > > > > You know that your mother would be utterly ashamed
of
> > you
> > > if
> > > > > > she knew,
> > > > > > > > because you're certain that her bare bottom never
> touched
> > a
> > > > > > public
> > > > > > > > toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't
> KNOW
> > > > what
> > > > > > kind of
> > > > > > > > diseases you could get."
> > > > > > > > By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the
> > > toilet
> > > > is
> > > > > > so
> > > > > > > > confused that it flushes, sending up a stream of
water
> > akin
> > > > to
> > > > > a
> > > > > > > > fountain that suddenly sucks everything down with
such
> > > force
> > > > > > that you
> > > > > > > > grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of
being
> > > > dragged
> > > > > > off to
> > > > > > > > China. At that point, you give up. You're soaked by
the
> > > > > splashing
> > > > > > > water.
> > > > > > > > You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper
> you
> > > > found
> > > > > > in your
> > > > > > > > pocket, and then slink out inconspicuously to the
> sinks.
> > > You
> > > > > > can't
> > > > > > > > figure out how to operate the faucets with the
> automatic
> > > > > > sensors, so
> > > > > > > you
> > > > > > > > wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and
> walk
> > > past
> > > > a
> > > > > > line
> > > > > > > of
> > > > > > > > women, still waiting, cross-legged and, at this
point,
> no
> > > > longer
> > > > > > > able to
> > > > > > > > smile politely.
> > > > > > > > One kind soul at the very end of the line points out
> > that
> > > > you
> > > > > > are
> > > > > > > > trailing a piece of toilet paper on your shoe as long
> as
> > the
> > > > > > > Mississippi
> > > > > > > > River! (Where was it when you NEEDED it??) You yank
> the
> > > > paper
> > > > > > from
> > > > > > > your
> > > > > > > > shoe, plunk it the woman's hand and tell her
> > warmly, "Here,
> > > > you
> > > > > > just
> > > > > > > > might need this."
> > > > > > > > As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has since
> entered,
> > > used
> > > > > and
> > > > > > > exited
> > > > > > > > the men's restroom and read a copy of War and Peace
> while
> > > > > > waiting for
> > > > > > > > you. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and
why
> is
> > > > your
> > > > > > purse
> > > > > > > > hanging around your neck?"
> > > > > > > > This is dedicated to women everywhere who have ever
had
> > to
> > > > deal
> > > > > > with a
> > > > > > > > public restroom (rest??? you've got to be kidding!!).
> It
> > > > > > finally
> > > > > > > > explains to the men what really does take us so long.
> It
> > > also
> > > > > > answers
> > > > > > > > their other commonly asked question about why women
go
> to
> > > the
> > > > > > restroom
> > > > > > > > in pairs. It's so the other woman can hold the door,
> hold
> > > > your
> > > > > > purse
> > > > > > > and
> > > > > > > > hand you Kleenex under the door.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > ---------------------------------
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> > > > > > >
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > >
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