When I can only afford one luxury, toilet paper is always the one I choose. I’ve always been a Charmin man. Charmin is tough and responsible, yet gentle and soft. Charmin even offers a clog-free, money-back guarantee at its website www.charmin.com/cf-money-back.
I recently made the mistake of letting the household supply of Charmin run dry. By the time I discovered this, it was too late. My mother had already brought home a heaping pile of Scott.
Once in a generation, a product comes along that puts the word “paper” back in toilet paper. The product is Scott brand bath tissue.
I should have taken Scott outside and burned it. I should have thrown it from a mountain for trying to usurp my Charmin. I am ashamed to admit that I did not.
Not only do I live 15 minutes from any store, but I had just finished eating my favorite meal: Deep fried ice cream nachos.
I swallowed my pride and took Scott into the bathroom. My heart pounded with guilt with every step. “Don’t worry,” I heard Scott whisper. “Charmin will never find out.”
As I took care of business on the throne, I stared at the fat white roll. I peeled the end of the thin ribbon. I almost expected it to loudly crinkle in my grasp.
I held the translucent length of paper in front of my face. I wrapped it around my hand one, two, twelve times. I stared at my mummified hand. I wrapped it twelve more times. I exhaled and proceeded with the deed.
I can’t go any further.
This so-called bath tissue will clean you off in the same way that a scouring brush will clean a baby. Scott just isn’t the man for the job.
After using this product, the only thing that brought me relief was using the Dollar General sales receipt to finish the job.
Charmin and I have recently reunited and I have not wiped with anyone else since.