End of the roll of toiletpaper

Negative slant in posting has got to come to an end. Will try to have something of a more positive note somewhere stuffed lengthwise into this drivel I call a blog. But for one last time -

If I didnt have bad luck, I wouldnt have no luck at all

OR - " Why the hell am I the one stuck with the end of the toiletpaper roll?"

Another comment on the situation life throws us, (me, for some God-unkown reason) holding the prime spot of sitting on the crapper, with 2 or 3 sheets of TP left?? Now, sure, once in a while, fine, chalk it up to odds or math staistics, or the blue friggin moon. Not me. I get it all the time. Now at home, Ok, once in awhile I can understand. But nooooooooooo. Every friggin day? What the hell are the odds of that? I love dice, craps, and vegas. This is surreal. Bet on me getting into the shitter, and looking forelorn at the TP dispenser only to find it - END OF ROLL, 2 or 3 SHEETS LEFT, per as usual. You could win a million, cause it is a guarnartee. No kidding. this always happens. Almost every day. I guess I could look at the bright side and feel "hey! my asshole and my plumbing work just fine, thank you!!!" , "I shit well every day!!!", "No colo-rectal-anal problems for me!!" - It is cleaning up that becomes a challenge.

Now before anyone feels the need to say - "asshole! check it before you sit!" I do. That is why I dont have to perform mad yoga moves to get the NEXT ROLL, (which I will inevitably be at the end of) , It is there mocking me, by my side, ( or rear, for that matter) laughing little TP laughs, knowing full well that the end of his TP shelf life will be in my hands. ( bastard!) ...

You say "hey, HM, doesnt your family have common sense enough to refill it when at the end?"

NO.

Sorry, they do not. They feel I believe, as head(!) of the house hold, it is my job, duty, slavewage, to replenish the shitwipes. Got me what sin I commited that got me into this living war with TP.

Mercy, throw me some mercy, please. ' Cause it is about to get worse.

You would think that situation is bad enough, but no again. The crapper gods, in the infinte wisdom they have, decided in some real bizarre-o meeting they must have, to curse me at all times to this dillema. Firehouse - The firehouse ALWAYS has 2 rolls full. Yeah, right. Not me. I could randomly pick any stall in the whole department, and I would find the one that is on the end of its life. W T F ?? Stations that have more than 1 or 2 stalls, you'd figure shit, 1 chance in 6, at best, I will find and sit at , the one with the end in mind.

So, there cant be more to this, can there? Oh no, O meek ones, the best is yet to come. Public restrooms. Gotta love 'em, huh? Who knows what mucus infested ass has sat on the rim or seat you are going to but your posh ass bottom on. So wipe, clean paper, whatever you do to prevent soiling your precious deriere. Why the fuck should I bother? Again, the roll will mock me. Of course, on this wonderful paradise I call home, we have the pleasure of industrail size TP rolls. Like spare tire size rolls. Take that last dime out, 'cause you want to bet that if I gotta shit, every stall will have the end. Every single one. I mean, like 9,000 people can shit wipe off a one roll. How the hell do I always end up with the last 3 slivers of wipeage work?

I bet if i shit in the woods, the trees would all be bare.

Didnt get to surf today either.

Peace.