No TP? No problem.

So, you have just returned home from a hearty dinner at your local Mexican restaurant. All is going well; you down a couple beers, then you plan with your degenerate friends which bar to go to that night. After a night of boozing, and wrecking everybody’s shit in darts, you return home reveling in the glory of another great night. But then trouble brews. A massive BM is imminent; there is no escaping it. But fuck! Your dumb, lazy ass forgot to pick up some TP when the last of it ran out. The night is about to be ruined along with you pants. Yet, it does not have to be so. Here is a guide to your options on how to save yourself and your underwear.


First order of business is to try and locate any paper or paper-like product. Napkins, old homework, pending homework, newspaper, etc are all appropriate substitutes. You want to be careful here though; if in your haste, you pick up just any paper, you may be unpleasantly surprised on your first wipe. You do not want to pick up any reinforced type of paper, like construction paper, that glossy presentation paper shit, or sandpaper. Show some rectal fortitude and don’t make hasty choices. Also, if you are one hairy, troglodyte bastard, be aware that you will probably accumulate a disproportionate amount of dingle berries. Seeing as your medium for wiping is not intended for that use, spring-cleaning might come earlier than expected.


Can’t find any paper products at your place? Good God you are useless. Well, now you need to start thinking to yourself, what is my least favorite article of clothing. Depending on the size, length and intensity of your impending dump, the clothing needed could be sized anywhere from sock to sweatshirt.


Also consider the consistency of what your shit will be. Usually, if you’ve been drinking beer heavily, you are about to encounter a vicious beast known as the “Bud shits.” The namesake, Budweiser, is notorious for producing this phenomenon. The Bud shits are basically you pissing out of your ass. In the event of the Bud shits, no normal article of clothing will suffice; you will have to turn to towels, or in extremely dire situations, bed sheets. With the grim necessity of using bedding, do not discard the sullied sheet(s) instantly, because if you’ve got the shits this bad, you are going to be needing them again before the night is through.


Lastly, my personal favorite, and the StoneyWageSlave recommended method. “The Artificial Bidet.” After you have finished punishing the toilet, just fire up the shower. Once in the shower, you can wash your ass manually with the help of some water to achieve a total clean. Also, if you are perpetually out of toilet paper because you are flat broke, I would recommend planning your meals. It would be wise to eat hours before you know you are going to shower. You know both will have to happen at some time that day, so why not try to synch them up? If you use your head and keep your cool, crisis can be averted.


Or, if you are a degenerate (which you most likely are) you can dabble in this method…




It is disgusting, but when supplies are limited, it may be the best option you have.  It’s okay though, we all know you don’t masterbate.


Just don’t forget to buy TP the next day or you will undoubtedly be in this dilemma in the very near future.

9 Responses to “No TP? No problem.”

  1. 1 colon farrel March 14, 2007 at 9:07 am

    praise jesus… last, another follower of the “Shit, Shower” technique which I have practiced off and on for a decade running. excellent.

  2. 2 Jippy March 14, 2007 at 9:13 am

    You are a disgusting college boy, end of story.

  3. 3 MMMMMMaeve March 15, 2007 at 10:38 am

    To my dickweed of an older brother:

    So you’re a blogger. (Insert me vomiting here.) Anyway, you requested I comment on your musings, so here’s my comment—keep your day job, slut.

    Actually this shit is moderate to fair. Tolerable even. But nothing more. Nothing fucking more I tell ya.

    Just remember who the REAL writer is in the family. Hint: she’s also the best looking in said family.

    Well, its been real. Real annoying. And let me know how I can submit some savage imagery to you. I have oodles.

    Long live The Roughton Clan,

  4. 4 colon farrel March 15, 2007 at 11:27 am


    If I recall, the last thing you wrote that was worth reading was a book report of The Velveteen Rabbit in 3rd grade. You should start your own blog about what it’s like to be dangerously goofy and non-savage in a Yankee state.


    Don’t let any Roughton fool you into thinking he/she/? is from Jersey or a savage. They are a Mongoloid race that grew out of the DC sewage that is known as Fairfax.

    Off to the club,

  5. 5 Roughty March 15, 2007 at 11:52 am

    Being a Roughton automatically puts you at least a notch above all others. New Jersey is where we landed on this continent, since that fate changing day we have spread our influence throughout the country. Dont ever forget that Colon.

  6. 6 tropospherian March 27, 2007 at 6:51 am

    This brings back memories, not so fond, rather funny.
    I was in the Blue Ridge Mountains on a tent camping getaway. I had not taken a shower in three, make that four, days so I was already smelling quite ripe. My hair was braided as best I could manage. I was trying to make it look half way decent in case I ran into any other campers, or, god forbid, any tourists- old people that might think I was a freaking hippie chick. God I hate that. So, off we went to “see the mountains” by driving along the Parkway. I suddenly had an urge to go. I waited. I was almost too embarassed to say anything to the driver. We were seeing the sites, listening to the birds, and taking pictures. I didn’t want to wreck the peace with my bowels. However, the urge wwas too much and I quietly asked if we could find a look out stop and it was very important that no other cars were there. We stopped, I ran out of the car and down the trail. I had put a few Kleenex in my pocket while we were scouting spots to stop. I was prepared. I yelled to keep a watch out if anyone happened to stop. Long story short: it didn’t make a damn of a difference that I had asked my driver to keep a look out. As I was mid-business in the middle of the over grown trail, an entire family of Indians came bounding down towards me. And these were not Native American Indians in full regalia or anything. These were Indians straight from India- saris, bindis and sandals, of course. They spotted me, I freaked out. In the whirlwind of getting my pants up I must have stepped in the mess. When I returned to the car and we speedily drove away, we said in unison, “what’s that smell?!”

    Wow, reliving that moment was probably not what I wanted to be thinking of today.

  7. 7 stoneywageslave March 27, 2007 at 12:39 pm

    trop – touche, that is a comment worthy of its own post.

  8. 8 healthy foods for colon cancer prevention September 20, 2014 at 10:26 pm

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  1. 1 Look how far we have come « Stoney Wage Slave Trackback on June 6, 2007 at 6:26 am

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