ladies Loo - one for the men

[LilabellHoney]

I received this email today (sent by a male friend) and I thought I would share it!

It helps me understand something I'd wondered About for a long time.

She says "My mother was a fanatic about public toilets. As a little girl, she'd
bring me in 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. And 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. But by this time, I'd have
wet down my leg and we'd go home.

That was a long time ago. Even now in our more mature years, The Stance
is excruciatingly difficult to maintain when one's bladder is especially
full. When you have to "go" in a public bathroom, you 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, also crossing their legs and smiling politely.

And you finally get closer. You check for feet under the stall doors.
Every one is occupied. Finally, a stall door opens and you dash, nearly
knocking down the woman leaving the stall.. You get in to find the door
won't latch. It doesn't matter. You hang your purse on the door hook,
yank down your pants and assume "The Stance." Relief. More relief. 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 it, you reach for the toilet paper. The toilet
paper dispenser is empty. Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny
tissue that you blew your nose on-that's in your purse. It would have to
do. You crumble 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 and your purse whams you in the head. "Occupied!" you
scream as you reach out for the door, dropping your tissue in a puddle
and Falling backward, directly onto the toilet seat.

You get up quickly, but it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact
with all the germs and life forms on the bare seat because YOU never
laid down toilet paper, not that there was any, even if you had enough
time to. And your mother would be utterly ashamed of you if she knew,
because her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because,
frankly, "You don't know what kind of diseases you could get."

And 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 and then it suddenly sucks everything down with such force that
you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged to
China...

At that point, you give up. You're soaked by the splashing water. You're
exhausted. You try to wipe with a Mars wrapper you found in your
pocket, then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure
out how to operate the sinks 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 unable to smile politely at this
point.

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!!! You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it the woman's hand
and say warmly, Here. "You might need this."

At this time, you see your man, who has entered, used and exited his
bathroom and read a copy of War and Peace while waiting for you. "What
took you so long?" he asks, annoyed. This is when you kick him sharply
in the shin and go home!

This is dedicated to all women, everywhe

 

[Pompal 09.]

Good grief, you girls are primitive creatures!!!! A quick clockwise twirl (anticlockwise in Australia) and we're dry and ready again to rule the world.

I don't think that asking the gent in the urinal next to me, "Excuse me, could I borrow a tissue", would go down very well.


Leo

 

[bobsagetpeanutbutter]

Ah, I remember it well. The caring mother, the loo paper on the seat - Bronco it was back then, that crispy stuff that was around long before labrador puppies got famous in commercials, when a small child ran the risk of sliding off sideways onto the floor, or jack-knifing down the pan.

Leo may well claim to be dry and ready to rule the world ... but why does he think those fluffy U-shaped pedastal caressers were invented - just to match the one on the lid? I don't think so..... I rest my case. Goodnight!

Holistic

 

[Yngwie Malmsteen]

Dear Holistic,,

you miss the point:

We men DON'T have to sit down. It all goes back to primitive man when he had to be upright and alert and looking for enemies or food, even if one hand was ocupied.



Sorry, me no understand!!!!! There is nothing fluffy about any toilet that I have seen.. sounds most impractible to me. As for the horseshoe shaped toilet seats,, all men aren't created equal,, i won't expand on that.

Leo

 

[?M?? ???????]

I think Holistic means those toilet mats on the floor to catch the drips that only men can make!!

Lesley

 

[?PRiSCiLLA]

Oh dear!!!! Of course!!! How very silly of me!!!


HMM I think I had better slink away and hide myself in a deep deep hole... what a silly billy.


Leo

 

[you dig my swag*]

Yes, quite right, serves me right for being obtuse. Thank you so much for that. I had hoped Leo would get the message from my hoped-for subtlety, but obviously not. However, now that you've kindly spelled it out in plain English, I think perhaps we might be making progress.

Leo: You NEVER sit down???

Holistic

 

[Pompal 09.]

Holistic, please!! I am trying to hide the shame of my ignorance, are you so cruel as to drag from me my most personal secrets.

I already stand, or sit, as representative here of the dribblers, the soilers of carpets, the polluters of tiles:

men!!!

Must I now give lists, rosters, of my modes of micturation: percentages of standings and sittings? You are too too cruel; leave me please with some vestige of pride intact.


Leo in begging mode, kneeling, very messy.

 

[Bebee]

Arise, Sir Leo, and sit upon your throne!!!

Your humble subject,

Holistic

 

[B Dash]

I have to spell it out to both the males in my house, several times a week, so why should Leo be any different!!!

And as for men standing up, haven't you heard that was the theory as to why women generally live longer than men!!



Lesley

 

[Metallica]

Love it!!! Especially as I work for the company that uses the puppies in their adverts!!!!

[sm=nuts.gif]

Love

 

[toad]

Ladies,

I have it on very good authority from a great p. artist friend of mine that the fault of the appalling standard of marksmenship in the modern young male, lies not with them, but with economics.

In the golden days of yore, the main manufactures of men's urinals was Doulton a company of illustrious history. Each urinal was lovingly marked with their symbol, a fly at mid height. It was a matter of pride in those heady days that as soon as he was off the potty, son learnt from father how to "kill the bluebottle".

Then of course local authorities started to cheapen on all their amenities and BRITISH goods were replaced by shoddy foreign imitations. There was no 'bluebottle' on which the growing young man could hone his skills and you, dear long suffering ladies, AND your bathroom floors are the worse for it.

At about the same time, local authorities introduced "Continental" appliances that looked like saddles and stuck out from the wall at waist level. We were given absolutely no instruction as to the use of these things. I remember with a sympathetic ache in my buttocks how lines of we men, desparate to do 'the right thing' and SIT, would try and jump up onto the contraptions, turning through 180 degrees as we did so. Those that managed it, only stayed there for seconds before sliding off onto the hard wet floor and those who didn't found that the resulting collision of sensitive body parts with pointy porcelain, invariably resulted in a visit to casualty.....

Believe me ladies we men HAVE tried to do it right and we have sorely suffered for it.

Leo

 

[yas47]

How interesting. My dinner service was made by Royal Doulton. There are no flies on it, just .....

..... whoops, too late, oh dear how embarrassing, please excuse me while I go to the airing cupboard for a dry pair. [&o]

Holistic