Not Getting It. At All.

Posted on September 29, 2012

Not too long ago, Cottonelle offered a coupon for a decorative toilet paper holder inside specially marked packages of its (you guessed it) toilet paper. Now, I could completely derail this entire post before it even starts by ranting about how freaking absurd it is that toilet paper manufacturers choose to name their product clean care paper or personal wipes or even bathroom tissue and not what everyone else calls it: TOILET PAPER. But I won’t. Other than the previous sentence. And that one before it.

But really, these folks do need to come to terms with what they make for a living and finally tell their moms. I mean, c’mon – we all poop and toilet paper is a necessary product, so just call it what it is. I for one would feel less confused if I could purchase toilet paper instead of bathroom tissue - which always leaves me feeling like I should be blowing my nose with it and not wiping my ass.

Oops…
Complete. Post. Derail.
Sorry about that.

Back to my point.

These fancy little toilet paper containers truly befuddle me for lots of reasons. First off, why a plastic air-tight lid? Will the toilet paper actually go bad or become stale if it’s not stored properly, like coffee?  Because if that’s the case, Cottonelle should get smart and add a ‘Best Used Before’ date on their packaging. Like beer – which, coincidentally, is the prime reason I personally go through so much toilet paper. But I digress. Again.

Second, why a container?  Why disguise toilet paper? Why not just leave the roll out in the open, sitting on the back of the toilet? I know, I can already hear some of you collectively inhaling to recite your sprayage speech (don’t even bother Googling that word, by the way, because I just made it up). Alright, then – but if I lived with a sloppy pee-er and needed a container to protect my spare roll (blech!), I certainly wouldn’t opt for one that conceals it, inevitably provoking panicked cries from guests.

GUEST: You’re out of paper! Where’s your spare roll?
YOU: It’s in that fancy little airtight plastic container!
GUEST: I thought that was for coffee!

No sirree, Bob. Instead, I’d head on down to the nearest assisted living facility and find some lovely elderly woman who still partakes in the lost art of crochet to make me one of those Barbie-doll covers. You know, the ones where you shove the toilet paper up her skirt. There’s never a question of where the spare roll is: everyone knows what’s under there. And unless that little old lady makes that skirt out of designer mohair, it’s washable. Sprayage problem resolved and no more frantic, confused shouts from bathroom guests.

Third issue I have with these little containers: it doubles your effort. Once you’ve used the spare roll stored inside them, you need to refill them. Running out of paper just became even more of a pain in the ass. Worse, there are now two things to nag the hubby about: the roll being empty and the container being empty. I don’t know about you, but I work pretty hard around my house to reduce naggage.

THE BOTTOM LINE: it’s not so much that this product is useless. It’s just unnecessary. I not only don’t get it, I won’t get it. Ever.

There are lots other products I don’t and won’t get:

Monograms.* Get over it, boys: summer camp was over 30 years ago and you need to start doing your own laundry. Or get over yourself: other than the Queen, no one deserves their own crest on their clothes…

Organic eggs in inorganic packages. No shit, my grocery store actually sells locally farmed, all natural eggs in airtight plastic containers – the same kind of plastic that requires parents be armed with box cutters on Christmas day and sends one out of every three dads to the emergency room for resulting stitches. Can you spell I-R-O-N-Y?

Pancake pens. I saw these in a catalog, accompanied by a picture showing happy toddlers drawing designer pancakes shaped like dinosaurs or amoebas, straight into the frying pan. They sold for $8.95 each. It’s a freaking 59-cent squeeze bottle, folks. Wake up and smell the oil burns.

Wine bottle toppers. Right… as if there’s gonna be any left. What a waste of money.

Pajama Jeans.  Listen up, honey: your pajamas look infinitely better on you than those jeans. You’re not fooling anyone.

Scented tampons. Are you freaking kidding me? Who benefits???

Truly. I. Don’t. Get. It.  But I realize that the world does not owe me a personal explanation of this particular brand of insanity. Perhaps I should even be thankful for that.

What I do get, however, is how fun those Barbie-doll covers still are. I soooo need one of those…

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* Alright… monograms aren’t really a product per se… but they still irk me.

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