From the Archive

I have been feeling a little under the weather lately, not up to really coming up with a new blog entry, and so I was reading through some of my old old old posts on this blog. Back when this blog had nothing to do with writing at all, back before I had an agent or a contract or anything. When, let's be honest, no one read it, and I wrote it merely for my own amusement. It's really quite fun to go back over it, remember where I was (physically and emotionally). And it's kind of nice to have, as a kind of journal detailing a very strange and amazing journey.

Anyway, I found this old post, and I quite enjoyed it. I used to write poems for this blog once and a while. I should start doing that again. Anyway, it has nothing to do with writing or acting or temping. But it does have to to with toilet paper. So I think you'll still enjoy it:

Sunday, April 09, 2006

I have seen it.

I have seen it my friends. I have seen it.

Yesterday I was in well known coffee chain. This well known coffee chain tends to have washrooms at the back of their establishment. A little door. A little room. And, well, you get the picture. Well yesterday I needed to visit said room and I went to the sign and lo and behold there were stairs. This unnerved me.

But I went down the stairs. They turned and twisted deeper deeper down into the bowels of the coffee establishment. Deeper past unknown rooms, past unknown sounds and smells. Deeper still, the yellow walls fading to a murky brown. To a door. A door marked with a sinister silhouette of a woman. Tentatively I pushed on it. I entered.

Sitting there on the toilet bowl, looking at me plaintively, was a roll of toilet paper.

With no hole.

No hole in the middle.

"Uh hi."

What madness is this?

We spent a short time together, and then as quickly as I could, I left and ran as fast as was possible back up the stairs. Back past the strange sounds and smells. Back into the light. Never to return again.


I have seen it my friends,
where the long stairway ends,
and yellow hall wends,
it awaits on the bowl.

It awaits on the bowl
like the stories you've heard
and they're true, every word
what you've learned of the roll.

What you've learned of the roll?
Yes it does have no hole.

And it's here for your soul.
And you'll know that it's true,
when it calls out to you,
to come visit the loo.

For I've seen it my friends,
where the long stairway ends,
and yellow hall wends,
it awaits on the bowl.