OT: a joke

[Guest guest]

I thought you all would need a laugh and I found this hilarious. This is geared

toward woman but it will give men a better prospective with the situation. I'm

sorry about the large print tried to make it smaller but it didn't work.

When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so

you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet

under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving

the stall.

You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so

long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers'

(invented by someone's Mom , no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your

purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully,

but quickly drape it around your neck, ( Mom would turn over in her grave if you

put it on theFLOOR! ), yank down your pants, and assume ' The Stance.'

In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love

to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet

paper on it, so you hold 'The Stance.'

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to

be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's

voice saying, 'Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN

there was no toilet paper!' Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one

that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you

have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would

have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than

your thumbnail

Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your

purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and

your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. 'Occupied!' you

scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue

in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly

onto the TOILET SEAT .. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well

that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ

and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper -

not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your

mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare

bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, 'You just

don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get.'

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that

it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of

the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down

your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such

force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being

dragged in too.

At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet

toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in

your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so

you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of

women still waiting.

You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of

the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was

that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the

woman's hand and tell her warmly, 'Here, you just might need this.'

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the

men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long, and why is your purse

hanging around your neck?'

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest???

you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does

take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why

women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang

onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!

This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could describe it so accurately!

_______________________________________

No viruses found in this outgoing message

Scanned by iolo AntiVirus 1.5.3.5

http://www.iolo.com

[Guest guest]

Hi !  I enjoyed reading ur Post!  It reminds me of  an incident that

happened to a Lady friend of mine.  Not long but here it is:  My friend, Janet -

while waiting to see her

gynocologist - visited the rest-room -at the Doc's office; there was No toliet

tissue and therefore she found some Kleenex tissue in her purse, which she

used.  Then while being examined by her Doc - he told her:  " You are my first

Patient to GIVE  S & H  Green Stamps!   ( Those types Stamps were stuck to the

Kleenex in which she had used ---from her Purse;  hee-hee!   

            Best wishes  in your Health,  !

From: Massey <renandstimpy3@...>

Subject: [ ] OT: a joke

Date: Tuesday, June 9, 2009, 9:22 PM

I thought you all would need a laugh and I found this hilarious. This is

geared toward woman but it will give men a better prospective with the

situation. I'm sorry about the large print tried to make it smaller but it

didn't work.

When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so

you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet

under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving

the stall.

You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so

long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers'

(invented by someone's Mom , no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your

purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully,

but quickly drape it around your neck, ( Mom would turn over in her grave if you

put it on theFLOOR! ), yank down your pants, and assume ' The Stance.'

In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love

to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet

paper on it, so you hold 'The Stance.'

To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to

be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's

voice saying, 'Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN

there was no toilet paper!' Your thighs shake more.

You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one

that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you

have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That would

have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than

your thumbnail

Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your

purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and

your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. 'Occupied!' you

scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue

in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly

onto the TOILET SEAT .. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well

that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ

and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper -

not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your

mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare

bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, 'You just

don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get.'

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that

it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of

the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down

your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such

force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being

dragged in too.

At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet

toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in

your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.

You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so

you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of

women still waiting.

You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of

the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was

that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the

woman's hand and tell her warmly, 'Here, you just might need this.'

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the

men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, 'What took you so long, and why is your purse

hanging around your neck?'

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest???

you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does

take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why

women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang

onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!

This HAD to be written by a woman! No one else could describe it so accurately!

____________ _________ _________ _________

No viruses found in this outgoing message

Scanned by iolo AntiVirus 1.5.3.5

http://www.iolo. com