I'm Applying for the Patent Right Now
As it seems to be my lot in life to clean up after humans of the ahem, male persuasion in the bathroom, I got to thinking about how our bathrooms are just so totally wrong.
For men, that is.
I mean, for women, it's great. We sit and gravity takes care of the rest. If anything is landing outside of the toilet bowl, I recommend that you get yourself to a hospital as quickly as possible. Seriously.
For men when they sit, the same neat solution applies.
But really, when they don't sit for er, process number one, the flaws of the typical home toilet bowl become apparent. For one, it just doesn't seem to be big enough, ya know? Process one begins from birth, and even men who have been doing it for years upon years just cannot get everything in there with any seeming regularity. "Intelligent Design" my ass.
Perhaps we need to rethink the home bathroom. I have a couple of ideas to improve the odds of the contents getting exactly where they need to be without anyone having to get on their knees and scrub the side of the toilet, cursing silently to themselves as they run the bathroom wipe along the back part where the toilet scrubber is located. There is just no need for that to happen on a regular basis, it should be avoided at all costs.
My first idea was to create some sort of large swimming pool-like thing, where the man can just sort of walk out onto a, well, diving board for lack of a better term, and just let the chips fall where they may. The pool-ish size should make it much harder for them to miss. Now, don't talk to me about how to flush it or bothersome details like that. I'm having a fantasy here, oblige me.
The second idea seems a bit more practical. Why not have some sort of funnel apparatus available? In it goes, and the dribble should be kept to an absolute minimum, I would think. I mean, men think it's a great device for cars and such, perhaps they would feel muy macho using one of these. We could use euphemisms such as "Gotta go flush the radiator" and "Time to change the oil," enabling them to revert back to their five year old selves and pretend they are race cars at a pit stop.
Who's with me?
For men, that is.
I mean, for women, it's great. We sit and gravity takes care of the rest. If anything is landing outside of the toilet bowl, I recommend that you get yourself to a hospital as quickly as possible. Seriously.
For men when they sit, the same neat solution applies.
But really, when they don't sit for er, process number one, the flaws of the typical home toilet bowl become apparent. For one, it just doesn't seem to be big enough, ya know? Process one begins from birth, and even men who have been doing it for years upon years just cannot get everything in there with any seeming regularity. "Intelligent Design" my ass.
Perhaps we need to rethink the home bathroom. I have a couple of ideas to improve the odds of the contents getting exactly where they need to be without anyone having to get on their knees and scrub the side of the toilet, cursing silently to themselves as they run the bathroom wipe along the back part where the toilet scrubber is located. There is just no need for that to happen on a regular basis, it should be avoided at all costs.
My first idea was to create some sort of large swimming pool-like thing, where the man can just sort of walk out onto a, well, diving board for lack of a better term, and just let the chips fall where they may. The pool-ish size should make it much harder for them to miss. Now, don't talk to me about how to flush it or bothersome details like that. I'm having a fantasy here, oblige me.
The second idea seems a bit more practical. Why not have some sort of funnel apparatus available? In it goes, and the dribble should be kept to an absolute minimum, I would think. I mean, men think it's a great device for cars and such, perhaps they would feel muy macho using one of these. We could use euphemisms such as "Gotta go flush the radiator" and "Time to change the oil," enabling them to revert back to their five year old selves and pretend they are race cars at a pit stop.
Who's with me?
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