So, I have something of a random thought mixed in with a confession: as old (and allegedly mature) as I am, I’m consistently embarrassed when I’m at the store and I have to buy toilet paper[1][2]. It’s even more embarrassing if I buy it in bulk, as if it’s some deeply concealed secret that I number 2.

So, one my new year’s resolutions will be to buy copious amounts of toilet paper with a boisterous spirit of dignity. So, if you ever run into me at the store and I’m loudly and boldly announcing my intentions to purchase that Charmin, extra soft that’s on sale, you’ll know why.


[1] I guess the same can be said of condoms. From here on out, I’m done with the black overcoat and dark glasses get up. If anything, I should be given a medal for using condoms.

[2] OK, who am I kidding? I have to actually have sex first. Condoms don’t really get their fully-intended use when there’s only one side of the beast with two backs.