Toilet paper. Damn it. All. My. Life. Never had to use The News. Left the leaves alone. Left hand? The third-world wipe escaped the reality of day-to-day living in This Great Country. But now? No. But…why? Manufacturing? Magnificent. Supply chain? Linked up. Supermarkets? Making it work. Fear? Ah-ha-ha. Fear freaks out the guy who grabs every roll until his cart is packed and stacked above capacity with a towering supply of paper product, weaving his way to the checkout, attempting to peer around the packages without running into his peers panic buying pallets of plastic-bottled water. Supermarket shelves are now devoid of ways to wipe. And in this stinky little home, the last roller of loo paper looms large, daring one to pick a square. The Greatest Nation On Earth goes to shit at the hands of fearful families who have barricaded their chunky children behind castle walls of toilet tissue while yours truly wonders where the next wipe is waiting. Eventually, virus victory will be ours. But nobody will want to shake my hand. Toilet paper. Damn it. My life is a hell.
This is hard for me. My life is a hell. Be afraid. Or you will join me. TFTD: WTH?