Written for Chelsea’s Terrible Poetry Contest
They panicked the public with talk of the virus
The butcher was worried – his name was Cyrus
One night, when the store closed
He took all the bog rolls
Went home and confessed to a scroll of papyrus. A scroll of papyrus that he used as his journal and sometimes hid in the linen closet – on the top shelf under a bunch of pillow cases, unless he was keeping it under the bed, or in the garage; but then the police found it and he was arrested, went to court and got sent to jail… not for very long though (it was only toilet paper, after all)
I would probably do a wee bit of stockpiling if I had any place to put stuff. But we are closet-limited here. I guess when they built this place, people had less stuff … or the attic got more use.
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Papyrus can double as tp in a pinch.
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By jove, you might be right. Maybe a bit rough but nowhere near as bad as a corncob.
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And cleaner than a hand.
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Overheard a conversation where a gent got a good price (before the scare) and says he’s stockpiled at least for a year! When at the local grocer we were told when the next delivery would occur – but since we’ve enough we didn’t go and stock pile more.
Reminds me of the camp song: Stranded, stranded on the toilet bowl, what do to when you haven’t got another roll?… To prove your a man you must wipe with your hand… Stranded… stranded on the toilet bowl.
Catalogs work in a pinch too… I remember hearing that out houses were ‘stocked’ with the old Sears ones.
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