Toilet Talk III

This is called…


Return of the Jedi?.. nope.  Return of the King?.. uh uh.  Return of Dignity to this Blog?… not even close.  How about Toilet Talk III: The Final Flush?.. Ooh, what about Final Defecation (instead of Final Destination)?.. although, Final Destination was not a title in a trilogy.  Let’s see.. Toilet Talk III: Jason Lives.  I guess that doesn’t make any sense.  But I just got a funny image of a movie trailer with his hockey-masked head emerging quickly and frighteningly from a toilet, as it cuts to black and you hear a scream, and then a release date slowly comes on the screen with the ominous “ch-ch-ch-ha-ha-ha” sound.  But Jason Lives was part six.  And again, it doesn’t really make sense.  Anyway, welcome to the finale of the Toilet Talk Trilogy!

Jason did not like water. He would not like toilets.

Typically trilogy finales are epic with more of all the good stuff that the series has offered.  This finale will not be that.  The Final Flush will be a merciful end.  An unfulfilling fizzle that will leave me relieved… (that pun actually wasn’t intended).  I am pretty tired of talking about this and I am excited to move on to some other stupid topic and cross “Write trilogy about public toileting” off of my list of life’s ambitions.

As I mentioned at the end of Toilet Talk number 2, this will be kind of a bunch of leftover things about public toilets that I will just write down in no particular order.


Bond seems to be just fine with water.

I will start with bathroom graffiti.  I do not know to what extent this is available in female bathrooms, but in male bathrooms some of the greatest minds have graced the insides of stalls with their art.  Be it deeply philosophical scrawlings or grand strokes of the paint can, the male public bathroom is the place to soak in the workings of brilliant artistic minds that had to stop and relieve themselves at a restroom away from home.  You may hear from Angry Aryan, who espouses the destruction of inferior races, usually surrounded by adorable little swastikas.  Or you may receive some insight from Severe Homophobe, who loves to graphically detail what gay guys like to do to each other, probably while lustily imagining what gay guys like to do to each other.  There’s also Woman Hater, who covers the walls with disparaging comments about women in general, or specific females, often with a phone number attached.  Once in a while True Believer leaves an inspiring message that he believes will fix all of the hate in the hearts of the other graffitiers.  My favorite is Stoner Dude, who actually attempts to write something profound, but just ends up sounding stoned.

There is also Sarcastic Anarchist.

If you’re lucky, these guys will collaborate and include all of their works in one paragraph.  Or leave a huge mural of something terrible happening to a woman by a guy covered in swastika tattoos who is smoking a doob with the caption “die gays”.  A collaboration any fan of art could admire.

Ok, sorry.  Sometimes I get stuck in sarcasm mode.  The truth is.. there have been times when I have come out of a public restroom and thought to myself, “They who will bring about the destruction of man have left their call sign in that stall.”  The most ignorant, hate-filled, disgusting, things can be found in male public bathrooms.  And I’m talking in places like libraries and institutions of higher learning.  I almost vomited at some of the stuff I saw in one of my college’s bathrooms.  Well-drawn, but horrifically disturbing images with writings that just… UGH!  Graffiti can be beautiful.  Bathroom graffiti is not.  But stoner scrawl is pretty damn funny.  Enough of that.

Another thing that disturbs me is the porta potty.  That and the old-style park potty.  The park potty I’m referring to is one of those permanent fixtures where you look in the toilet and it’s just a sewage pond.  Like a porta potty, but much bigger, deeper, and more disgusting.  And terrifying.  Because Jason’s head could emerge and… nah, I won’t go there again.  I remember once when I was a young boy at one of these park restrooms, having to do the deuce and being so horrified by the Sarlacc Pit of sewage I discovered in the stall, that I actually left the stall and took a dump in the urinal.  It was one of those long wall urinals that extend to the floor.  My grandpa found my poo in the urinal and I got in a lot of trouble.  I lied about doing it, but he must have known I was lying.  My stupid rabbit turds gave me away.  Oh well.  I’d do it again.  I’m not sitting on that Hole of Doom.

Would you pull your pants down in this place?

The porta potty is terrible because of the sewage hole factor, but also because of the tight enclosure.  You’re stuck in a little plastic tube with your knees brushing up against a disgusting wall, completely vulnerable with your pants down, trying to shoo away the disgusting flies around your head, taking the shallowest breaths you can take while sustaining your life, getting grossed out by the sounds you’re making on the pile of filth below you, fighting the irrational fear that for some reason someone is going to knock the stupid tube over with you in it and the door is going to fly open and you’re going to come flowing out on a stream of filth with your pants down and your hand tucked down between your legs.  That’s why I hate porta potties.

Ok, let me look at my list… event troughs?  I think I covered that a little bit in the urinal post.  I covered it with urine.  Ok, that was sad.  Anyway, event troughs are weird and awkward because a bunch of drunk dudes are rushing to take a leak during some intermission or following an event in this long urinal tub and they are standing so close to each other and swaying into one another with their drunkenness.  Even if you’re not trying,

“Great game, eh Bill?” – “We’re not at a game, and my name’s not Bill.” – “Aah, you got me! I just show up to pee in this thing with a bunch of guys.”

you can’t help but see the adjacent dudes’ wiener because you’re so close together.  If the trough depth is insufficient, everyone is sharing piss spatter.  Of course, there is the obligatory talk about the game or concert intended to dissolve some of this awkwardness.  This is the one time it is okay to talk to dudes in the bathroom while relieving.

What’s next?… Hmm, do I really wanna talk about this?  Ah, who cares.  About ten years ago, I had a really weird idea that I’d actually completely forgotten about until I started thinking so much about toilets lately.  I had gotten a video camera back then and was using it for too many things.  I came really close to performing and recording a show that featured characters that were drawn on sheets of toilet paper.  Sadly, I am serious.  I had many characters in mind, and it was going to be mafia-themed.  The setting was going to be in the bathroom, but the characters would have just perceived it as their world and used regular bathroom items and things for their needs.  For example, a hair roller might be a spiky torture device or a piece of furniture, or something.  A Q-tip might be walking staff for an older character, or a weapon.  Stupid stuff like that.  The toilet was always the way characters would get “offed” and their screaming faces would swirl down the whirlpool.  They would come in different shapes and sizes.  A taller one could be two sheets.  One might be a crumpled ball.  Some would have hats.  The

The raw material for a mafia show? According to me, yes.

only two characters I remember are Smear, who was the mafia boss with a conspicuous brown scar across his face, the origin of which would have been eventually revealed through a gripping flash back episode (I’ll let you imagine); and Captain Wipe, who was the police chief that chased Smear and his goons.  The title might have been The Unwipables, or The Unflushables…… In my defense, this happened during a time when I was a little insane.  We’ve all had our moments.  Maybe yours didn’t devolve into mindless concepts involving sheets of toilet paper, but still…. don’t judge.

Now this post has truly gone in the toilet.  I will not stop writing things like that.  It feels so good to get this out of my system (chortle).

Yeah.. I’m gonna go ahead and skip the other stuff I wrote down.  Writing this much has left me wiped…

I want to end with a little tease of what’s to come next.  My brother in law (another distinguished Brad) has graciously agreed to contribute to my blog.  It is ‘Brad’s Blog’ after all.

Brad Denny writes a column for the Arizona State Sun Devils Examiner, talking about the various ASU sports programs, primarily the football team.  You can find his work here:  He recently received acclaim for his clever Sun Devils football preview, in which he used Beatles songs to analyze each of the team’s positions and was invited to discuss his article on a local radio show.  The podcast of that interview is here:

A mutual friend of ours used to have an NFL blog that Brad and I would write on, and a couple of times we participated in a “Battle of the Brads”, in which we argued separate sides of some NFL-related topic.  Brad is a cool dude, and we often agree.  But occasionally we see things differently and have text arguments.  Arguments about deep topics such as video games, beer, TV characters, and football.  One argument we had was so ridiculous that I have asked him to engage in a Battle of the Brads on my blog to clear the air once and for all…

My seemingly unassociated inclusion of Star Wars and Lord of the Rings posters in the Toilet Talk trilogy was actually a foreshadowing of an epic new trilogy.  An accidental foreshadowing, as I had no idea that we were going to do this until recently.. but a foreshadowing, nonetheless.  Brad and I will debate which movie series was better.  Star Wars vs Lord of the Rings.  We have negotiated the terms of our debate and will post our initial argument some time in the next 2-3 weeks (it’s football season, so posts will become less frequent).  There is no limit on words, so I have no idea how long these may be.  Brad will submit his to me and I will post it unseen along with mine.  A coin flip will determine the order of the arguments (which will appear first).  I am texting Brad right now to assign himself a side and to flip a coin…….  He chose tails and it was heads.  And he has no idea why I asked him to do it, haha.  Anyway, I don’t know what order I want yet.  I will wait until mine is finished and decide.  Following the initial argument, we will each write a rebuttal in response to each others’ initial post.  If necessary, there will be a counter rebuttal.  The readers can decide the winner via poll.

Oh yeah.. I guess it would be nice to know who is arguing what.  Brad Denny will argue that Star Wars is better and Brad Golden will argue that Lord of the Rings is better.  Everything involved is on the table.  The stories, the franchises, the characters, the plots.  Whatever.  I admit that I have the home-blog advantage.  However, I am also arguing an uphill battle against a long-standing, sentimental series.  It evens out.  Except I am a better arguer.

So stay tuned for this Battle of the Brads!  It promises to be pointless and stupid!  But fun!

“You wouldn’t vote against me, would you?”

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