Wind whipped across the open window during my drive in to work and filled my head with flapping flags; I was running low on airbrush black and completely out of golden beige, the abandoned kitty I rescued four days ago (and half-heartedly tried to find a home for) was all too effortlessly curling up into my surrogate swaddle and just why had I decided I didn’t need to shave my legs this morning?
And then I heard it; the ad for printed toilet paper. Yes, toilet paper adorned with advertising for various businesses and, you guessed it coupons. Have I ever told you how much I despise coupons? Pretty sure I’ve mentioned it.
Well, now I hate them even more. We’re blasted with ads at every turn and inundated with fluffy discounts that sit at the bottoms of our purses only to be found once the purchase has been made or the expiry date has come and gone.
We go to coliseums and impressive light shows are begging for our open our wallets, we ride public transit (or drive alongside it) and are told what to watch and now we get to share our (very) private moments with Panago Pizza and twenty percent off a prime rib roast.
It somewhat reminds me of the days when toilet paper came in baby blue, light pink and mint green. (Oh be quiet. I’m not that old, I’ve heard stories) But seriously, there’s a reason that (toxic) stuff doesn’t exist anymore.
Toxic Toilet Tissue
I really don’t begrudge these fine young caniba…er, men of the millions they’ll probably make on this venture, but when the time comes, I’ll be more than happy to flush their dreams down the toilet.
Hazy Shades of Me 