Skip to main content

Too Many Toilets

You would think the toilet provides as basic a function as one could imagine. 

But there are probably more different toilet and toilet seat designs and variations than there are bird varieties in Brazil.

But why?

As they say in pre-school, it’s either “Number 1” or “Number 2.” Although if you’ve been out drinking all night and eating crab enchiladas laced with bacteria, you might be needing the toilet to help you with, “Number 62.75.”

And why shove a poor crab in between a corn tortilla anyway?

After visiting my local giant big box home supply store, the one with the tall ceilings, harsh lights and canned music, and seeing the over 100 different toilet seats for sale (all displayed like fine art in an art museum—hung on the wall like so many Picassos), I realized that we humans have gotten way out of control with our imagination and productivity.

Someone is spending way too much precious time thinking up and designing endless variations for a simple waste receptacle.

We as a species should be spending more time coloring rocks and painting happy faces on ourselves instead of inventing more ways to take a simple shit.

There, I said it.

I’m all for more varieties of shirts, smart TVs, cars and canned tuna, but when it comes to the simple bidet, commode or just a general toilet in a public bathroom, let’s keep it simple.

One standard shape, model, color, size and handle.

We should probably spend more time on figuring out how Artificial Intelligence (AI) can teach us how to be better drivers.

And then maybe we can design a toilet that does our taxes and cooks our breakfast.

 

Thank you for reading, sharing & enjoying. 

Your support is greatly appreciated!

☕️ TIP JAR ☕️


GET MY BOOK TODAY! 


©2024 Bruce Palma. 
All rights reserved.


@realbrucepalma



 

 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Famous Forks

I have decided (this morning at exactly 8:12 am PST) that I will not buy forks, knives or any other form of cutlery from an unknown company or person. I will only buy them from a celebrity endorsed brand. Someone who knows their stuff. A celebrity that is fully cognizant of the intricacies of steel. Someone who can design a spoon that rivals the Mona Lisa or the Eiffel Tower. I need to know my forks, knives and spoons (especially my spoons) have been birthed from the genius mind of any random pop star, tv talk show host or faded movie star from 50 years ago. A grill from an ex-heavyweight champion of the world (boxing, not bobsledding) will most definitely cook my burgers and vegan weenies better and tastier than some random grill designed by a faceless computer. Why would I buy a blender from some random brand with no celebrity’s picture on the box? That would be stupid. I’m not stupid; just mildly dumb. I want my 600 thread count microfiber sheets made from free-range llama hair to b...

Elbowtox

While the world toils and turns and turtles are singing through plastic oceans of crap, I’ve decided my elbows are ugly. This is no small matter. I thought I was one of the most handsomest, fit and fly specimens of the human race. But now I’ve gone and found out my elbows are ugly. Not just ugly; but hideous. I looked in the bathroom mirror (after flossing and singing the national anthem backwards) and noticed these two red bony growths on my arms. Like bright red walunts. “What are these?!” I sang to myself in the mirror. My reflection said, “Those are your elbows…proud of yourself?” I said, “Hell no! These things are hideous.”  They were probably bright red from sitting at my desk six hours a day pondering the nature of the universe and carb-free cupcakes, hunched over with my elbows grinding into the fake wood. Digging in with my thoughts and cupcake dreams I must’ve pushed my elbows into the wood too hard and now they look like little ugly red stumps. Something out of a fairy t...

A Day Without a Phone

  Today class, we will learn how to let go of our phones and spend the day with nothing in our hands except air. We will leave our phones in a secure locked drawer in my desk (me being the teacher and you the poor pupils with air in your hands) and we will not come back to class for at least 24 hours. It is advisable for you to contact the 22,000 friends, relatives and associates on all your social media platforms (and of course email) and inform them you will not be available for 24 hours. And before signing off, tell them not to send any cat videos, funny videos of people falling down stairs, updates on the fall of humanity or icebergs melting, or links to articles about how eating ice cubes cures cancer. You will be completely free of all distractions. Are we ready?! Now, you might be a little lightheaded as you step out into the world without your phone. That’s ok. It’s to be expected. It’s as if you left one of your hands or eyes or right lung at home. It’s as if you’re wa...