Life’s pleasures are increasingly small and mundane, but this Labor Day I got a good one: I got to have a cigar and a Scotch on the porch with my old man.
My dad and I share a taste for the really small pleasures in life, like saving money on a Rite Aid purchase, getting a deal on socks, or taking a fantastic dump.
“I just got the best toilet seat,” he told me that night, “when I close it it closes gradually by itself—doesn’t slam.”
“Nice,” I said instinctively, but then decided to stay honest.
“Wait, why exactly do you want that?”
“I’m an old man!” he said, “I can’t bend down to close the toilet fifty times a day.”
“Yeah but why do you close the toilet at all? I never ever close the lid, why would you?”
He looked at me.
“Oh, I haven’t gotten to you about this yet?”
“No,” I said, “what?”
He then proceeded to change my life by clueing me in to the airborne toilet vapor video scene.
Turns out when you flush the toilet, all human waste actually flies up into your bathroom like the shit fairy and then dumps her cum all over your toothbrush. Then you brush your teeth with that stuff and it goes into your brain and it swells and makes you sick.
To reiterate, you then get sick from eating your own shit:
In summary, close the toilet seat before you flush.