Toilet Paper Mind Fuck

There’s  a weird social experiment happening in the ladies’ room at the office. I know what you’re  probably thinking right now.

Chrissy, you sure talk about the bathroom at work a lot these days.

I know, guys. I know. But that’s where I do some of my best thinking. And you have to admit, the April Fool’s Nic Pic prank was pretty hysterical…and everyone needs solid tips for keeping a clean ladies room. Also, who doesn’t love getting paid to poop?

Back to the social experiment at hand. There have always been a few problems in the ladies room on my floor, but for some reason, the toilet paper situation has been escalated by the maintenance staff.

There's a social experiment happening at my office, and they're messing with the toilet paper.

The original toilet paper problem

The building has decent toilet paper, it’s not Charmin or anything, but it is a little more plush than your average run-of-the-mill cheap TP. At first, the biggest problem was the sheer amount of toilet paper that was accumulating on the floor and in the toilets. The maintenance crew heads into the bathroom on my floor twice a day. During their midday sweep, they would replace all toilet paper rolls with fresh, full-size rolls, and place the older, half rolls on top of the TP holder. You can see the problem with this already, can’t you?

No one wanted to use the loose roll of toilet paper, because that shit was always falling on the floor, getting picked up, and put back in its place of honor. You couldn’t vouch for the cleanliness of the loose TP rolls. So people used up the other stuff, and the loose canons rolled around the floor or sat above their cleaner, safer counterparts.

I didn't have any pictures of two good TP rolls with the "spare roll" but everyone knows this roll is the dangerous one.

I didn’t have any pictures of two good TP rolls with the “spare roll” but everyone knows this roll is the dangerous one.

The new toilet paper social experiment

Well, sometime in the last few weeks, the staff has started doing something a little rash. They’ve replaced half of the TP rolls with the worst toilet paper ever. It’s bigger than the normal toilet paper, thinner, and scratchier.

Not all toilet paper is created equally.

Not all toilet paper is created equally.

I don’t want to wipe my ass with cheap tissue paper, you guys, and you know that’s what that “big” roll of  TP is. No one wants that.

The real kicker is that they’re absolutely doing it on purpose. It’s not even like they’re discouraging office pooping. They’re discouraging wasteful TP usage. No longer do you see squandered rolls of toilet paper scattered on the floor between stalls. Not one square of the good TP is wasted in the office bathroom. By the end of the day, though, it’s scratch paper or bust for my colleagues and me.

When the good toilet paper runs out, you may want to avoid pooping at the office.

When the good toilet paper runs out, you may want to avoid pooping at the office.

After several weeks of this nonsense, I’m of the firm belief that someone is documenting how the residents of our office are handling this shenanigans. The answer? Not well. I mean, if they were concerned before about overuse and crap on the floor, they should be even more concerned now. I’ve seen more than my fair share of over-stuffed toilets (no picture because I care about your eyes). And let’s be completely honest here. Bitches are going to find other things to throw on the floor anyways.

Toilet seat covers do not belong on the floor.

Toilet seat covers do not belong on the floor.

You should never have to wipe your butt with crappy, scratchy TP. Click To Tweet

Hopefully, this situation resolves itself and the shitty toilet paper is removed from the bathroom. Of course, they may be getting us acclimated to the new paper before they run out of the decent stuff.

What weird social experiments do you notice happening in your office? What are your thoughts on the varying degrees of toilet paper quality?

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Ladies, Here’s Some Advice for Using the Bathroom in 7 Easy Steps

This post is part of a sponsored post series about bathroom habits. This campaign is sponsored by Cottonelle. All opinions are totally my own. 

Let me start by saying that women, as a whole are pretty gross…at least when it comes to the bathroom…at least when it comes to public bathrooms. Having worked in restaurants and bars where part of my job is keeping tabs on the ladies’ (and sometimes the men’s) bathrooms, I know a thing or two about public restrooms. That being said, I also know that there are times when I’d much rather pee in the men’s room than the ladies.

I’ve developed a system for you to follow to smoothly go from urgency to relief without leaving the toilet stall like a tornado went through it.

Step 1: Enter stall or single-person bathroom

(I could have started with get up from your desk or wherever you were, but I figured that was a no-brainer…) When you enter the stall or bathroom, take a mental note of what it looks like when you enter, particularly if it was recently cleaned (or LOOKS like it was recently cleaned.) When you leave, it should look EXACTLY the same.

Step 2: Prepare the toilet

Now, if you’re like me, this step includes checking to make sure some nasty chick hasn’t gone all TP crazy and tried to flush a little too much down. Or worse, has tried to flush paper towels down the toilet. Or even worse left a giant pile of underwater poop sitting there waiting for you. Your job? Avoid being that chick.

Then I would sit down on the toilet seat.

Other ladies may have more of a routine. Set up one of those fancy toilet liners. Or coat the toilet seat with TP to protect your bum from the herp. (Right. That. Facepalm) Or get into your squatting posish.

Step 3: Do your business

Whether it takes you 20 seconds or 15 minutes. Do what you gotta do. It’s what comes next that really matters.

Step 4: Wipe your bum

I’m just trying to get all the facts straight here, kids. Trust me. I’ve got a point. Oh, and you could always use a few of your Cottonelle wipes for a shiny clean bottom. That’s what I do anyways.

Step 5: Take care of your mess

This isn’t the Ritz Carlton. And even if it was…you should still clean up your mess. Your lady week paraphernalia should go in the appropriate bin. It should not hang over the seat, looming, as if the toilet is certain death. It should definitely not go on the floor. And according to the signs in the bathroom, it shouldn’t really go into the toilet either. No one should be seeing red in the ladies room (pun intended.)

For the love of all things good in this world, PLEASE flush the toilet. Common sense y’all.

Most importantly, this one goes out to you squatters out there. If you feel that your ass is too precious to grace the toilet seat with direct contact, I applaud your contortionist skills. I can even respect you. UNTIL you become the reason that ladies squat. Wrap your hand up in some TP and wipe the seat down, so that when my bootie DOES come in contact with the cold, hard toilet seat, it’s not also covered in your pee.

If you sprinkle when you tinkle

Step 6: Wash your hands

For the record, if you leave the bathroom without washing your hands and ANYONE sees you, you will be judged for. life. I don’t care if you washed your hands in the handicap stall’s special little handwashing station or you’re going to wash your hands somewhere else…Make sure the people of the world know that you’re washing your damn hands.

Step 7: Make your exit

If you’re a smidge OCD like I am, you may want to try this little trick to avoid getting other people’s nasty unwashed poop hands’ germs. Make sure to have easy access to paper towels before washing, then use them to turn off the sink and open any doors. Works like a charm.

Welp! That’s it. If you’ve followed all of my directions to a tee, you shouldn’t have any problems making friends outside the bathroom stall. And you’ll set the bar for what the other ladies are doing. Because we really need to work together to stop being so damn disgusting.

Blog friends, any other tips you may want to give the ladies of the world when it comes to bathroom usage?

This post was sponsored by the fine people at Cottonelle. Because your bum is totally worth it. And so is mine.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Top 5: My Public Bathroom Wishlist

This post is part of a sponsored campaign to promote clean bums and bathroom ettiquette. Thanks to the fine people at Cottonelle, you get to read more about my bum.

I think about this a lot. In fact, I’ve had this post written in my mind 27 different ways a hundred different times. Luckily, I managed to keep it in my mind, because working with Cottonelle has offered the perfect opportunity to talk about baños and pooping and such.

I thought it would be fun to cue you in on the top 5 things I wish I saw more often (or didn’t see at all) in public bathrooms. Because when you’ve gotta poop, you’ve gotta poop.

5. High Quality Toilet Paper

I mean, you knew I was going to go here…I remember when Katie and I went to London…and we were TERRIFIED of the toilet paper situation. So much so that we brought our own. But we rarely think to bring our own around here…and sometimes that TP hurts my ass more than anything. So if I were to be granted a wish (or 5), please let there be soft TP and maybe even a fresh wipe or two for me to use on my one and only bum.

4. Taller Toilets

Have you ever tried to poop with your knees up to your eyeballs? Or even worse pee? At that angle you may end up spraying yourself! I’m sorry for all the shorties out there, but who wants to squat down farther than you did in gym class just to relieve yourself? That’s right. No one.

3. A Happy Smell

Have you ever been inside of a Target bathroom? They have that fresh fruity smell, almost like Trix or Fruity Pebbles (But definitely not Fruit Loops. Those are gross. Maybe one day I’ll tell you THAT story.) Anyways, so every Target has this delicious fruity smell and it’s not crappy or bathroom-y or anything. All bathrooms should smell like that. Always.

2. Wider Stalls

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down on the toilet only to rub my naked ass/hip up against the toilet paper holder. Gross. But it’s because someone thought it would be a good idea to squeeze one extra stall in there. Or even worse, when the geniuses who designed the place thought it would be a good idea to put the toilet about 4 inches closer to the side that the TP is on, instead of giving us that extra space! And screw the ladies over for life. Have you ever gotten poked by the corner of the TP holder? It hurts!

1. Automatic Everything or Nothing—You Can’t Have it Both Ways

I thought about asking for someone to wipe my ass for me, but then I realized that I’m a little OCD, and they probably wouldn’t do it right anyways. So then runner up in this competition is for a public bathroom to make the decision whether to have automatic sinks, soap and dryers or not. Because when you’ve got the automatic soap dispenser without the automatic sink….WHAT’S THE FREAKIN’ POINT? Seriously. Why. And really, I’d much rather have paper towels than the hand dryer. Automatic paper towels please. And a door that opens without having to touch the handle. Or at least a garbage can near the door. I guess that’s like 17 wishes rolled into one, but I’m serious on this one guys. It’s ridiculous.

Blog Friends, what’s on your public bathroom wishlist?

This post is brought to you by the fine people at Cottonelle. If you’d like to continue the conversation on Twitter or Facebook, check out the hashtag #LetsTalkBums!

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

I Get to be a Brand Ambassador AND Talk About my Ass at the Same Time!

Good morning blog friends! Today marks the day that I begin a new adventure. An adventure all about butt-wiping.

NO. I am most certainly NOT pregnant. (GOSH!)

I’m a brand ambassador for Cottonelle. I’ll be working with the fine people who bring you joyful bum-paradise. Even after the worst poops.

I don’t know if I mentioned it, but the gluten free trial? Was because I occasionally (read: frequently) have digestive…issues. You name the issue, I’ve probably had it. I’ll spare you the details.

Unfortunately, gluten-free wasn’t for me (more on that later). But Cottonelle FreshCare Wipes DEFINITELY are. So when I found out they were running a campaign to “talk about bums,” I begged, borrowed, cheated and stole my way in. Or I asked nicely (and told them that I was awesome. And that I was really good at talking about poop. And butts. And wiping.) One of those.

So here I am, a fancy pants brand ambassador for a company that I stand behind 100%. Because anyone that makes wiping my ass easier is my kind of company.

I wipe my own ass

As one of 35 Humorists for Cottonelle, I’ll be sharing some fun toilet-humor posts about my bum and encouraging you to laugh along with me. You can get excited about this fun campaign too! And you don’t even have to leave the comfort of your own toilet home. Just keep tabs on the hashtag #LetsTalkBums and you’ll see all the fun posts from my campaign-mates.

I’ve included a brief video from documentarian Cherry Healy, so you can see what’s up.

And let’s be real here, guys…

Talking about wiping your ass sounds so much better with a British accent.

As a brand ambassador, I will be compensated for my association with Cottonelle. All opinions are most certainly my own, and no one’s paying me to say nice things. I only work with companies that I like in real life. I’m stating all of this as per FTC rules and such. Go figure.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!

Confession Friday: The Poop Story

WARNING: This post contains a poop story. It is highly inappropriate. It is (a little) graphic. It is poop. If you are squeamish (or eating), stop right now and come back on Monday. 

Disclaimer: My boyfriend would probably rather I did not post this story. But I couldn’t help myself. Also, if you know my boyfriend’s dad…never tell him this story. Ever. 

Dear Twitter followers, You’re welcome.

Last winter, Brian and I escaped the unusually-less-than-frigid Chicago weather with a long weekend away to Florida. Had we known that I would be losing my job a few weeks prior to the trip and take 8 months to find another one, we probably would have gone for a whole week. Regardless. Florida. Trip. Warm. Beach. Sun. Yay!

Brian’s dad lives on the coast of southern Florida. I spent most of my days barefoot on a beach. Brian spent most of his days sleeping until 2. It was the perfect trip. One of our days, though, Brian’s Dad took us out on a boat trip. This was very exciting for me. One of the perks of living on an island full of canals is DOLPHINS. If anyone didn’t know, I love love love dolphins. Love them. They are amazing creatures. (No, I’m not giving away free dolphins. If I had dolphins, I would keep them all to myself.)

Dolphin love

Yes, Brian puts up with me…even when I do things in public that embarrass him

So we took a boat from his Dad’s backyard through the canals out to sea. In the canals, as promised, I got to see dolphins playing! It was the most amazing experience ever. One day, I will swim with the dolphins, and that will trump this.

Dolphin in the Canal

This dolphin was not only 20 feet away in the canal…he also swam up to us and did wild dolphin tricks–stood up on his flukes to see what was going on inside the boat. It was the most exciting thing ever. Ever!

So we took a nice long boat ride in the Gulf of Mexico around the southern tip of Florida to a little island, which I will not name. The ride was a good hour from door to island. It was beautiful. We shelled along the beach, and had packed a picnic lunch. I was walking along, looking for sweet shells…when all of a sudden I felt a rumbly in my tummy. I tried to let it pass, but within two minutes I knew… I really had to poo.

Now in all actuality, I’ve got some sick digestive issues (that would be probably be diagnosed as something if I had health insurance and a doctor…), and there are times that I will go far too long without releasing the toxins. So when I gotta go–I go. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.)There’s no such thing as holding it. In fact, I don’t understand people who go and spend 20 minutes on a toilet waiting for it to happen. But that’s another story entirely.

So I walked over to Brian…

“Babe, I’ve got…a problem.”

Now, Brian is the best boyfriend ever, and he puts up with me talking about poop on a somewhat regular basis. That’s love right there.

“What?” He said to me, all innocent-like. He really had no clue.

“I have to go. Like bad.”

“Pee?” He looked hopeful. Squatting to pee on an island is not difficult.

I shook my head…

“Can you hold it?”

I shook my head again…

“Well, we’re about an hour away…even if we left right now.”

So I thought. And I thought. I didn’t want to embarrass Brian. Or his dad. Or make a scene. I wanted to enjoy the day. And I thought some more. And when I couldn’t take the stomach pains anymore, I said, “I’m going to go dig a hole. I’m going to need toilet paper. or napkins. or paper towels.”

So Brian and I casually walked back to the boat, as his dad was shelling. He acquired paper towels for me and waited by the boat. I walked deep into the not-very-sheltered island, where I found a semi-secluded spot. I dug a fairly deep hole. Took off my bathing suit (while keeping my skirt and shirt on–like MAGIC). Squatted. And birthed a small child out my rear end. I cleaned my person. Re-dressed. Covered the hole. Hand sanitized. and called it a day. I was proud of myself.

I would so survive on LOST. Or Survivor. Or even The Amazing Race. I am a winner.

I walked back to Brian, who didn’t want to know details…

…but I told him anyways.

We proceeded to picnic on the island…As we started walking in the direction of my man-made bathroom, I was fearful that we would end up dining a little too close for comfort. Luckily, we were still pretty far…ish away.

picnic on the beach

Cute picnic, right?

Funny Face Because I just pooped

The Best Boyfriend Ever

Plus I made him that sandwich (before the, um, incident).

When we got back on the boat, I texted Lily, as she is my go-to poop story friend. She was thoroughly impressed.

Hey! Did you know you can buy my book on Amazon? 37 women wrote about the struggle for perfection, and I'm one of 'em. Go check it out!