I'd been using one of those little rubber finger thingies this afternoon. You know: the things that you wear so that you can rifle through papers easier.
I went to use the toilet, and I realised that I'd forgotten to take the cursed thing off.
To be honest, I figured that I'd probably get away with leaving it right where it was; but, it seems I was mistaken: just as I was about done, I heard an unnerving ping. I looked down, and a dark shadow – somehow – beneath the used toilet paper confirmed my worst suspicion.
What are the odds of that? I bet I couldn't ping a rubber thingy off my finger and directly into a toilet bowl behind me on purpose. I can't even figure out how it managed to get in there at all, let alone how it ended up under the paper. Technically, an entire me was stood right in its way. And that was before it had to contend with the ample two-ply defence lying in ambush inside the toilet.
Naturally, I responded the only way I knew how. I flushed. Rubber thingy and all.
So, if anybody's plumbing goes all screwy today, and it turns out that the cause is a little knobbly bit of rubber that has jammed up a pipe, then I assure you that I know nothing about it whatsoever.
2 comments:
There are so many things I could say but since I'm a gentleman, I won't say anything at all.
Well, maybe I'll moan about some us working weekends.
I thinkk I speak for me when I say:
Too much information
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