Month: October 2022

Yesterday I watched the Oregon Ducks cream the nationally ranked UCLA bruins 30-45.  The game was not that close. The Ducks as always have a top-notch PAC 12 football team. I have nothing against them.  I am sure that all their players and staff are gentlemen and scholars. I am sure that the Ducks fans were not rude to the Bruin fans that came all the way up for sunny California to bask in the wet sunshine that is Eugene in the fall. And to their credit, I have heard that they no longer have a recruiter in San Quinton. I have also heard that they will soon shut down their similar operation at Attica and Folsom.  Since the advent of the transfer portal and now being able to pay their players over the table, they no longer need these offices as they can get this talent by hiring Alabama and the Ohio State University parolees. (Why is it THE Ohio State University??? Is there a fake Ohio State University some where else?? )

 My problem with the Ducks is not their players or their fans chanting fuck the Mormons or even that LaGarrette Blount sucker punched a Boise State player after a loss.  Blount was immediately suspended for the rest of the season by Chip Kelly, well at least he was suspended until they played my beloved Beavers in the final game of the season.  I understand, as the Ducks needed a little more punch in their running game. I okay with that.  At least I believe he didn’t stab anybody that day.

No, my problem with the Ducks is their uniforms. In their drubbing of UCLA their uniforms were black and green with a big green “O” the back of their helmets which were also festooned with hot pink feather decals.  Their jerseys were numbered with pink numerals which matched the pink cleats on their black shoes.  My first thought was “is there and Elton John concert after the game?” Then I noticed all the pink shirts and hoodies in the stands and realized it was national breast cancer awareness month and the Ducks donned these ridiculous outfits to help “stomp out cancer.”  So that’s the reason for the pink cleats. Judy told me that mammograms are painful, but pink cleats stomping on boobs is not what I pictured.  Being aware of and showing solidarity with breast cancer victims is admirable, but that usually means pink ribbons and writing a check to the American Cancer Society.  

I read somewhere that the Ducks have a new uniform for every game. With a hundred plus players on the roster that comes out to $70,000 for every game just for new and often ridiculous looking duds.  Over the 13-game season that’s close to $1,000,000. Seems to me that is a lot of money to waste on their egos. So maybe to really show solidarity to breast cancer awareness they should have worn a pink arm band, maybe with pink socks and donated the rest of the money to the cause. Football teams need to have two uniforms, one for home and one for away games. The Ducks have 137 uniform combinations. Now I would never say, “fuck the ducks”, but I found myself wishing that the Bruins had taken those pink cleats off them and shoved them up their collective entitled asses.

America is the land of progress. In the last century and a quarter, we went from the horse and buggy to self-driving cars.  We went from wash boards to automatic washers with 7 cycles, each of which has 21 options that control temperature, spin speed, etc.  That’s 147 different combinations not to mention the delayed start.  We went from wind up pocket watches to watches that tell you it’s time to take a walk, if your heart is functioning correctly, and 25 other functions that you probably will never use even if you can figure out how to use them because they are all icon encrypted.  

But there is one product that has evaded this progress.  It has remained unchanged for the 60 plus years that I have been using it. You know what I am talking about.  It’s the paper toilet seat cover, more formally known as the ass gasket, free cowboy hat, Bush frat hat, or Trump university diploma.  You would think that a product whose purpose is to save lives would have been improved upon in a century.  It was barely usable when I was a boy and is even more dysfunctional today.

First it is made out of the thinnest of tissue papers. It is rarely intact when removed from its cardboard container. Next there are those little tabs that attach that middle penis squirt blocker part from the rest of the of gasket.  It is almost impossible to tear these off without shredding the whole ass gasket. And finally, it needs to be carefully placed on the toilet seat with only the squirt blocker touching the dog water.  All this has to be done with precision and patients, which I have little of when I am in desperate need of using a public toilet.  And let’s face facts here.  When I use a public toilet, I am in desperate need.

Compounding this tissue of fragility is that many of the public toilets now have an automatic flush. This is that great invention that flushes the shitter a couple of seconds after you raise your ass off the toilet. I don’t know about you, but I feel that this is the greatest boon to humanity since screw cap wine bottles.   This is because if I look into a toilet bowl before I sit down and I see floaters, I add the remains of my breakfast to the pot.  I am sure that this innovation would have won a Nobel prize but unfortunately in that year it was beat out by Mother Teresa winning due to her tireless work for the disadvantage.  Like mother Tereasa would have survived the toilet seats in Calcutta without the use of ass gaskets. Personally, even though I have no evidence, I think the election by the real Nobel voters was swamped by bogus ballots from India which could have been easily detected by a faint curry odor if anyone would choose to look at these alternative facts.

Although I appreciate the auto flush feature of today’s public toilets, this innovation does not work well with the ass gasket.  By the time I complete the ass gasket challenge (usually on my third attempt), I am really desperate, and I still have to turn around, pull my sweats down to my ankles, grab the unsanitary bar that is there for disabled people and then being the slow motion backward bend to the seat because of arthritic knees and a desire not to dislodge the  gasket. At this point in the shitter marathon, the fucking auto flush says “yep, he’s standing up”  and flushes the tissue down the drain. So, my choice is to risk monkey pox or start the procedure all over again.

I have heard it said that women when faced with public toilet seats, with or without a tissue shield, will attempt the non-contact squat and piss rather than risk death by ass warts. I can relate.  But when men squat its not to piss.  I did try this technique on a single occasion.  I won’t gag you with the details other than to say that the public toilet was closed for an hour and the hazmat team was called out. Okay it was two guys in garbage bag ponchos and yellow plastic dishwashing gloves, but that is Walmart for you.

My point is in a country noted for winning two world wars, putting men on the moon, and the inflatable sex dolls, we cannot improve on a device that saves the lives of public toilet users?  And why is there  a pocket watch pocket in my Levis? We must do better.