My comfort level was at an all time low. After hours of a gurgling tummy, I had decided to release the beast. A party at an acquaintance's house was hardly the time or place, but I had run out of options. I did the poo waddle down the hallway attempting to dodge all conversation and awkwardness.
Success. Reaching the bathroom door felt like summiting Mount Everest - I had reached the beautiful mecca and now must begin my decent. With the door locked, mind prepared, and sleeves rolled up, I sat down for what I knew would be the end of days.
Satan had released a play thing in my bowels. Out demon! Out, I say! And before my tush had enough time to warm the porcelain, it arrived. An explosion of epic proportion rocked the tiny apartment bathroom. Splatter everywhere. The splash damage was immense. My bowels unloaded the intestinal time bomb in very quick order. Zero to poo-pocalypse in under four seconds. The sphincter, tired from the undertaking, gave some pathetic aftershocks. It was over.
Relief came with mixed emotions. Jubilation for removing the unagreeable monstrosity. Remorse at the damage done to the acquaintance's bathroom. Fear the party had heard my transgression. Concern that cleanliness could only be attained with a shower.
Anxiety hit when I reached over for some toilet paper. The cheapskate had stocked up with one-ply.
One-ply? One-ply?!!? This was no time for one-ply! I'm not even sure what to do with one-ply during a regular BM let alone the atomic bomb of all movements.
The TP dilemma isn't limited to one-ply, but rather to all plys. Practice makes perfect. Once a shitter becomes familiar with a certain ply, they hone their cleaning skills with that tool. All plys serve a purpose but without proper knowledge of use or cleaning technique, a defecater may face defeat.
One-ply
As mentioned above, the cheapest of the cheap. The flimsy butt floss is the preferred paper product of masochists hellbent on rubbing their assholes raw. Proper cleaning technique calls for using half the roll per wipe. One-ply was created by accident. During mass production of two-ply, a ply machine broke down and thousands of rolls of one-ply were created before the machines could be shut down. One-ply is provided to prison inmates and Guantanamo Bay detainees - if they're using it, you shouldn't be.
Two-ply
Double your pleasure; double your fun. Two-ply is strength on a budget. While the product wouldn't be considered soft, it is strong. There is 100% more paper separating fingers from asshole. Proper cleaning technique calls for seven sheets. Two-ply gives the user a satisfactory clean and is approved for use by 9 out of 10 proctologists.
Three-ply
Soft. Supple. Like a cumulus cloud floating by to wipe the sphincter. This paper achieves uncompromising comfort and undeniable strength. With just a few sheets you'll be able to accomplish a clean not seen since that bidet encounter during your European excursion. The Most Interesting Man in the World doesn't always take shits, but when he does, he prefers three-ply.
Four-ply
Ridiculous overkill guaranteed to clog most toilets. Four-ply is the elusive Bigfoot of TP, but I can confirm its existence. Imagine taking a travel size pillow and wiping your ass with it. Proper cleaning technique calls for one sheet. Proper flushing technique calls for an industrial strength toilet. Four-ply is the Rolls-Royce of TP and is about as easy to flush as one, too.
Different strokes for different folks and all that garbage. But when you're presented with the task of cleaning a dirty asshole and have the unfortunate circumstance of an unfamiliar paper product, the little chore can become a momentous hassle. For this reason I argue that all papers should be standardized. Screw these different numbered plys. Pick one and commit.
xoxo,
ShavedGolf
How do you feel about two flushes?
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