2628. Laundry shelf saga

What a hoo-hah on the laundry shelf. The almost empty container of Ocean Splash Toilet Duck had been taken away by the Mistress of the House and HAS NOT RETURNED. It has been several hours.

“Ocean Splash Toilet Duck knew she was getting near the end,” said Micro Particles Cream Cleaner. “She said she had given everything she had and was on her last legs. I fear she has been thrown into the trash.”

“Oh that’s terrible,” said powerful and poisonous Drain Clean Liquid. “And what a sad life she has had, forever having to stick her head into a toilet and be given a squeeze. My job isn’t much better but at least I get a bit of variety.”

“I think it’s disgusting,” said highly flammable Silvo Silver Polish. “Constantly sticking ones head into a toilet shows no class whatsoever. Now I polish nothing but expensive silver and have a very satisfying life. In fact I’ve been here for ten years and only been used once.”

“Some of us have very little to look forward to,” said Bag of Kitty Litter. “I feel for Ocean Splash Toilet Duck. And she was such reassuring company especially when ones future doesn’t bode well.”

“Quite frankly I don’t know what the fuss is about,” said Oxi-Actioned Amazing Stain Remover. “I just do my job and get on with it.”

But who is this approaching the laundry shelf? Why! It’s the Mistress of the House!

 “Look what she brought in!” screamed Micro Particles Cream Cleaner. “It’s another container of Toilet Duck!”

“It’s not Ocean Splash Toilet Duck. It’s Forest Pine Toilet Duck. How disappointing,” said Drain Clean Liquid. “You do realize that you’ll have to stick your head into a toilet?”

Micro Particles Cream Cleaner sighed. It was a sigh of contentment. “I don’t care what tasks Forest Pine Toilet Duck has to perform. I feel that we on the shelf are once again complete.”

2450: Welcome to Verona

A roundish number and a solid fifty before getting to story 2500! So here is a true saga – as is the custom on such occasions. Some may regard this tale as “inappropriate”.

It was New Year’s Eve. I had been staying with a friend in Passau, Germany (once again trying to find my way back to New Zealand after studying in Massachusetts). The next leg of my journey was to be Italy. The train left Munich at 10 p.m. and would arrive in Verona early in the morning of New Year’s Day. As the train departed my friend presented me with two bottles of red wine – to celebrate the New Year.

I waved farewell. The train was on its way.  It was already New Year’s Day in New Zealand! I shall toast the New Year there. I had recently been in England. I shall toast the New Year there! I had visited Ireland. I shall toast the New Year there!  I had been in many countries all over Europe. Well! I was given two bottles to celebrate the New Year. The train arrived in Verona.  It was three in the morning. I left the empty bottles neatly in my carriage compartment.

Aha! There was a café in the station and it was open. I had exchanged some German money into Italian currency before I left Munich. I said to the lady behind the counter: “Coffee please”, and what did I get? One tiny cup with what looked like a teaspoon of molasses.  I noticed other customers “knocked it back” and went on their way. I hovered and listened how to order a decent mug of coffee. I was successful!

And then I wanted to go to the toilet. Urgently.  Number 2. But to get into a cubicle you had to pay with small coins and I didn’t have any.  I handed the guarding janitor a hefty note and he let me in.

Let me explain before I go any further…  I am not exactly a fashion model but it was midwinter and I dressed warmly. I wore jeans and boots. The jeans were held up by a pair of suspenders (we call them braces).  Over all of that I wore a pullover and a heavy coat, a scarf, and gloves. And – oh dear – the toilet was not sit-down but a beautifully tiled hole in the floor.

Let me get over this bit quite briefly… One can’t lower ones jeans without undoing the suspenders. One can’t undo the suspenders without taking off ones coat, scarf, and gloves. One cannot squat on the floor with pulled down jeans. One can’t take ones jeans off without first taking off ones boots. One doesn’t want to get ones socks wet on the bathroom tiles. To cut a long story short, there I was (ever so slightly inebriated) totally naked in a freezing toilet in Verona at three in the morning. I have no idea how Italians do it.

Emerging (fully clothed) back into the station I checked the train timetable. No train to take me out of this God-forsaken place. The train station was some distance from the centre of town. I decided to walk – in the dark – and arrived in Verona town centre at dawn.

What a marvellous place! I fell in love with it and I was sad a few days later to leave this wondrous town! I even saw the balcony where Juliet said, “O Romeo! Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?” It was magic and my real introduction to the entrancement that was Italy.

1765. Thanks for the poetry

Hi Harvey

Just a quick note to thank you for sending me your book of poetry. Congratulations on getting it published. I was very keen to read your poems as I didn’t until today realize that you wrote poetry. It tells me a lot more about you than I ever imagined.

The book arrived in the mail just as I was about to go to the bathroom. As I was so excited to begin to read it I took it to the bathroom with me and began to peruse your poems while “enthroned”.

The first thing I noticed, and this is a little critical, is that the cover is excellent, as is the print, but why, oh why, did it have to be printed on cheap newsprint? I suppose it’s fashionable to use recycled things, but personally I was distracted by it thinking that your poetry would most certainly deserve better.

Well, I started reading your poems thoughtfully and I guess I carefully read the first half dozen. Look, I don’t want to be negative about things, but quite honestly, the poems did nothing for me. I thought they were banal and simplistic. I’m telling you this not to be cruel and offensive, but because honesty is always the best route to take. How can one improve if one already thinks that one is the cat’s whiskers?

Heave ho! upon the briny deep,
Oh sailor man.
Wither doth the waves caress the shore.
Who could wish for more
In days of yore?

I can see why you had to get it self-published.

Anyway, thanks again for thinking of me and sending a free copy.

Regards
Maurice

P.S. Don’t you just hate it – like once every eleven years or so – when you’re in the bathroom and realize you’re out of toilet paper?

1285. Taking the piss

In the good old days, women who wanted to spend a penny would go to the House of Lords to powder the nose. On the other hand, men who wanted to see a man about a dog would go to the bog to shake hands with the vicar.

These days, everyone goes to the bathroom. Someone took the music out of the language.

1189. Answering service

I can’t answer the phone at present as I’m sitting on the toilet. But if you leave your number I’ll get back to you before wiping your message.

Poem 51: Unpacking after moving house

(The poetic form selected for this week is the List Poem)

Toilet paper!
Has anyone seen the toilet paper?
Does anyone know what box it’s in?

I need a drink.
Has anyone seen a glass?
Does anyone know what box it’s in?

Toilet paper! Hurry!

We need a wine!
Once found we’ll sip it from the bottle.
Does anyone know what box it’s in?

Toilet paper! Hurry! Hurry!

We’ll need a cork screw.
Where’s the cork screw?
Does anyone know what box it’s in?

Toilet paper! Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!

Found them! Thank goodness!
What a relief!
At least I’ve found the Christmas decorations!

WINE!
GLASSES!
CORK SCREW!
TOILET PAPER!

Does anyone know what box they’re in?

To hear the poem read aloud click HERE.

1118. Noreen’s brainwave

Noreen was always thinking up new ideas, and this time she had come up with something brilliant. She had a man install floor to ceiling one-way glass in her toilet.

Noreen could sit there, comfortably enthroned, and survey the world. She could see out, and no one could see in. What a dazzling idea!

Outside the window was a busy road. It was always interesting to watch the traffic and pedestrians go by. She imagined all sorts of destinations and conversations. Beyond the road was an expansive valley, and beyond that loomed imposing mountains. Things were always different; ever changing. The weather made the scene a chameleon, forever mutating colours. The temptation was to sit there for too long. But goodness me!

Of course at night, with the toilet light on, and it being dark outside, Noreen couldn’t see a thing. But at night, people seemed so much friendlier; every second car seemed to give a friendly toot. And pedestrians passing by were always full of laughter.

1028. An improbable story with a facile slant, about a dog

Jocelyn had always envied those who won the silver platter at the annual village greyhound racing derby. Every year, for the past eleven years, she had entered a dog in the premiere race and not won a thing. This year it was going to be different. She had prepared for this race for more than two years.

An unfortunate thing, however, was that when her new greyhound puppy was born she named it Toilet. Some people have no idea if you ask me. It was a cruel name; even for a dog. But Toilet it was. Jocelyn insisted. How pathetic is that?

Fourteen dogs lined up at the start line, including Toilet. Off they went! Toilet was lagging behind the other thirteen.

“GO TOILET!” screamed Jocelyn.

All thirteen opposition stopped to do their business. Toilet raced ahead.

Jocelyn took the silver platter home. She changed her dog’s name to Victorius.

958. Toilet seat

It was outrageous. Once again the toilet seat had been left up by some thoughtless male. For the second time that day, the toilet seat had to be put down before it could be sat on. Why can’t males think of others for a change and put the seat down after they finish? It was typical of men not to think of the woman in the house.

And then there was Ramona. She was maddening. She always put the toilet seat up after using it. She claimed that she put it down to use, but put the seat back up to be nice to the men in the house. It meant that Harry had to put the seat down not just after the other two men in the house but after Ramona as well. In fact, Harry would frequently go to the bathroom just to put the seat down. He was forever thinking of others.

Come on guys: always leave the seat down. Think of others for a change. Women (except for Ramona) always think of others and leave the seat down.

To listen to the story being read click HERE!

817. Stink

You’ve no idea! When Lester goes to the toilet it stinks the whole house out! Whiff! Open the windows! I’ve told him to use the spray, and of course he does, but it still stinks the whole house out.

He’s ten times worse than all the other grandchildren. Of course, we love to have him stay, but once a day he stinks the whole house out. It’s unbelievable. It’s funny how some people are like that and others aren’t. It’s not that he eats anything different from the others. It must be his metabolism.

I don’t know how his mother copes with the three kids, and having Lester – he’s the oldest – stink the whole house out. And their house is so small. Having an outhouse like in the olden days wasn’t such a bad idea. They should get one!

Of course, if you strike a match in the lavatory it can burn up the methane and diminish the stench. But I’m not leaving a box of matches in the toilet when the grandkids come to stay. The next thing they’ll be playing with matches and burn the whole house down.

So in the meantime, we’ve simply got to put up with letting Lester stink the whole house out.

Anyway, Letitia, that’s enough about me. How are your grandkids?

To listen to the story being read click HERE!