thoughts on the throne

The time has come. It must be said.

I generally like to space out my weird, just give it in small doses, a little here, a little there. I figure I'm doing a service for humanity by not unleashing the Forehead Scrunching Oddness in two consecutive posts.

And yet. I fear I will forget to mention this pressing issue [yet again] if I put it off [yet again]. So. My apologies. But I just need to get this off my chest [and it's Friday and that means the end to another work week and sometimes letting out a little weird does wonders for one's sanity] and it may as well be done here and now.

Toilets. Why must you torment me.

There are round bowls. There are elongated bowls. There are really elongated bowls. There are seats that are flat. There are seats that are convex. There are seats that are concave. There are short toilets. There are tall toilets. There are really tall toilets. There is no lack of variety when it comes to such delicate matters of the <insert bodily organ>.

Variety is good, no? Diversity is key, right? Tolerance and acceptance of all toilets is the battle cry heard on the streets! [Probably not your street.]

And to all that, I say PSH.

Some may call me a toilet snob as I have what may seem like ridiculously high standards when it comes to my expectations of toilets, but really... No. I just expect a toilet to fulfill its duties... as I take care of mine. Is that so much to ask?

I want my feet to touch the floor.
I don't want my back up against the seat cover.
I want to be able to sit without feeling the need to balance.
I don't want to flush and feel water [fresh and clean or otherwise] land on my feet, legs, hands, or really any body part.
I want to be able to reach the toilet paper without having to stand up [I guess this may just be more of an overall bathroom experience kind of requirement, but I think it's an appropriate mention].
And most of all, I don't want fall in the toilet and/or feel the sensation of being stuck in the toilet.

Is that so much to ask?

Yes, I know that an ideal toilet for me would probably not be an ideal toilet for someone else. But I bet if you asked Average Joe* if he had a toilet preference, he would probably just say, "As long as it's clean, I have no preference." And if he doesn't have a preference, why not make the average toilet one that satisfies the preferences of someone who does have a preference?  Like me [said like Shawn Spencer, of course].

When I was a kid, I remember thinking that one day, oh one day, I would grow my adult legs and never again would I have that feeling of being hopelessly stranded atop the toilet. That day never came. I remember thinking that one day, oh one day, I would never again have to look down at a strange toilet and question, "Will I fall through that hole or get stuck in that hole or sit gloriously atop that hole? And if, worst case scenario, the former, what is the backup rescue plan?" Sadly, I have yet to see this day. I always need a backup plan.

So, what's the point of all this ranting and reminiscing and tales of dashed hopes and never-to-be-realized dreams?

Dear Jason and Sharayah of the Distant Future,
When you decide to build your own home and you come to that seemingly unimportant decision of choosing toilets for your bathrooms, don't shirk your duties! Go to Lowes or Home Depot and try some toilets on for size and comfort. Try option 1. Or maybe option 2. Bring a book! People watch! Just sit and put in some time to make an informed decision. Don't let your dignity and self-respect get in the way of lifelong toileting satisfaction. The choice of a toilet is not to be taken lightly as some studies say an Average Joe quite possibly spends up to 3 years on the toilet over the course of his life. Three years, you guys. Make the comfortable choice.
The Toilet Snob

P.S. FYI, this is a no, this is a no, and this is a Oh My Gosh Yes.

As a very, very, very slight justification for this post and its not exactly tea-party-in-the-sunroom-chitchat topic: Today's work consisted of a more than normal amount of bathroom/toileting/definitely-TMI typing, so it triggered my brain and this post was the only thing I could think to write.

I also feel compelled to mention that about halfway through writing this particularly enlightening post, my brain told me that now was an excellent time to tackle the topic of society's [inconsistent] obsession with tolerance/acceptance. There would be a perfect segue with some workable analogies and it would kill two birds with one stone. But, alas, the slightly normal part of my brain kicked in. And for the sake of every person who doesn't want to be compared to a toilet, you're welcome.

Last note... Just in case you thought that the title of the post referred to something a little less bathroom-related and a little more God-Throne-related, here's an obvious yet often overlooked thought:

We like to imagine what heaven will be like. What will it look like? What will we look like? What will we do? Where will we live? Will there be relationships? Will we hang out with friends and family? Will we eat? Will we all become amazing harpists and have shoes made of clouds?

I know I like to use my unbelievably limited mind to imagine about the greatness of my Forever Home. And yes, I am silly enough to think that all of my earthly thoughts and desires can somehow be pertinent to my life in eternity. I am only human after all. I don't like not knowing things, and there's so much I don't know. But! that's okay! I don't need to know everything about heaven. I don't need all the guesswork. There's only one definitive thing that I truly, truly know and it makes the answers to all of my other questions completely insignificant:  Jesus is there.

What else matters?

Just goes to show, if you make the right toilet choice, they'll be lining up outside your door.

*Average Joe, in this case, may be Jason.

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