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An Open Letter to the Non Toilet Trained

Hey there, dribble guts, how goes it?  That’s rhetorical, I’m well aware of your problems, at least a few of them.  And that’s kind of why we need to talk.

I’m no arbiter of what’s right and wrong.  I don’t make the rules for people and I really want to ascribe to a live and let live philosophy, you know?  I don’t believe in government telling us what to do, of a police state where anyone can be accosted n the street for no reason, I don’t want any of that.  But I’ll tell you what I do want.  I want to not know what stuff that used to be inside of you looks like.

In a way, it’s a great expression of our own personal freedom to be allowed, each and every day, to not know what another human being once had inside them unless we request that knowledge, ideally after establishing at least the semblance of a relationship that will be predicated on the sharing of that knowledge.  I don’t want you to see what was in me.  And if you do want that then I understand your position and I respectfully decline to participate, but wasn’t that civil?  And decent?  Wasn’t it the way it should be?

Now, mud flaps, I need you to get on the same page as me.  As most of us, really.  As those of us who learned long ago that your waste material goes in a toilet.  In.  Right inside.  But wait!  Don’t walk away just yet, because step two is the understanding that, once waste has been deposited, it’s then ushered away via the depression of the flushing mechanism, such that it no longer harasses you or I or anyone.

I get that people nowadays like to be different.  The world is at its most populace and we’re constantly striving for individuality.  But there’s a very good, historical reason for waste elimination.  You don’t want the plague, do you?  The Plague?  Your mounds of filth are perfect breeding grounds for the bacteria, fleas and rats that will eventually destroy much of Dark Ages Europe.  Why would you do that?

It’s surprisingly easy to use a toilet properly when you try, it really is.  Notice, in fact, that the seat itself has a giant hole right in it to facilitate the acceptance of your waste. That’s an intentional design feature.  That big watery seat is hungry for your leavings and it needs to swallow them up with your help.  Why don’t you help Mr. Toilet have his meal?  That means your piss and shit should not be;

  • On the floor
  • On the seat
  • On the toilet tank
  • In the sink
  • On the paper towels
  • On the wall
  • In your hand
  • On the toilet paper roll
  • In a bento box
  • Hurling over the top of a stall

If you feel the urge to put your waste in any of those locations, I want you to stop.  Stop right there.  And then ask yourself why you’re doing that.  No.  No.  You stop that.  Because you are awful.  Who’s awful?  You are!

In closing, please actually use the toilet.  You are not an animal.

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