ODDS and ENDS!
Leftover from a recent bathroom column: What kind of sadistic monster put faucets in lavatories that have to be held in the on position in order to use them? It’s no wonder teenagers are germ ridden little snots. In some old high schools you will find that all of the soap dispensers are empty. Now, the reason can be revealed. Most likely this situation exists because of a tale in the media about there being too much alcohol in such bathroom soaps. Kids are extracting the alcohol. In serious cases it can be absorbed through the skin and seep into the blood. How does your high school son or daughter explain to officer Dick that they blew a .15 on the breathalyzer because cleanliness is next to godliness?
Aside from that hurdle and realizing that we are a nation of pampered wimps living in a world of new fangled seeing-eye urinals, soap dispensers and faucets, I found that these Stone Age version faucets require one to physically keep your hand turned on them in order to get any water to flow out. Let go and the water stops flowing. In this situation you can get only one hand wet at a time. Even if there were soap to dispense it would take a miracle to rinse your hands of it. Of course as a final pillar of anti-cleanliness is the usual the lack of paper towels in the dispenser too. They must install the empty dispensers in tandem. 50% off the cost without the insert supply; what a bargin. The girls all know about these pitfalls because they are instructed by their mothers from an early age to search for toilet paper in a stall's dispenser before they sit down! Boys don't have dad's advise because dad has no such wisdom. Boys learn bathroom etiquette from their friends. It often goes something like this. "Hey man lets see who can whiz the farthest!" Perhaps the bathroom mechanisms are driving the high school kids to convert the soap into a six pack in the first place.
Of our changing physique: Has anyone noticed the growing trend (and I mean that literally) of women’s backsides? I contend that the situation has risen because of steroids in the food chain. Someone wants to have a Mr. Universe contest starring cows. Growing super sized Holstein’s has a domino effect that is creating a world of lopsided children. My tiny little girl looks like she has a ham attached to her behind. I can’t think of any teenage girl with a figure that doesn’t have a can the size of two overstuffed water-balloons in the last stage of “one more move and there will be a tidal wave”. It’s disproportionably disturbing.
In my day growing up if you saw one girl in the 7th or 8th grade requiring a bra it was a celebratory occasion; rare and most appreciated. You always knew the boy who had just discovered the blossoming female because his pupils were always fixed and dilated, and you could use his tongue for a red carpet. Some young ladies today have hooters that rival their keesters. The question is which squishy area is going to get more attention from the video camera or the local pervert. I was apparently born in the wrong decade because I certainly would have liked to have more things to look at in school other than my teacher’s scolding looks and Sister Mary No-You Don’ts chalkboard erasers rocketing toward my head. Can you guess what I was looking at when she used to launch those volleys?
Where have we gone wrong? Is it the fast food generation or has my ophthalmologist given me a super sizing magnifying eye-glass prescription? I’m a big fan of Jell-O so not to worry; as a dirty old man I know I will enjoy things that wiggle more. I’m just not sure I want my daughter to be one of them.
Truth is stranger than fiction: Getting back educational setting, it seems that outside of Washington D.C. is Flintstone High School. Can you imagine being a graduate? Sitting in desks made of stone may be one thing, but waiting for birds to fly back and forth between classes so as to give the principals announcements on the intercom must be annoying. I’m sure the boys don’t wear shoes and the girls all have bones in their hair too. Not to be out done, another D.C. area school oddity is a military school that goes by the name Fork Union. I don’t know what this has to do with anything, but what are the odds that the alumni reunion doesn’t have this said as the graduates reminisce back on their days on campus? “Good ol’ Fork U” they probably say. It’s no wonder school kids don’t respect anything anymore. I wonder if they have a high sign to go with their school moniker. If so I’ll bet it’s a hand gesture! It might make for a rough four years at school games in the sports arena with cheerleaders shouting “Fork U” while opponents undoubtedly get riled. Then again maybe the odds are against the adversaries because of the cheerleader’s Buick-sized hips that have their rivals in a hypnotic state with their tongues on the floor.
Aside from that hurdle and realizing that we are a nation of pampered wimps living in a world of new fangled seeing-eye urinals, soap dispensers and faucets, I found that these Stone Age version faucets require one to physically keep your hand turned on them in order to get any water to flow out. Let go and the water stops flowing. In this situation you can get only one hand wet at a time. Even if there were soap to dispense it would take a miracle to rinse your hands of it. Of course as a final pillar of anti-cleanliness is the usual the lack of paper towels in the dispenser too. They must install the empty dispensers in tandem. 50% off the cost without the insert supply; what a bargin. The girls all know about these pitfalls because they are instructed by their mothers from an early age to search for toilet paper in a stall's dispenser before they sit down! Boys don't have dad's advise because dad has no such wisdom. Boys learn bathroom etiquette from their friends. It often goes something like this. "Hey man lets see who can whiz the farthest!" Perhaps the bathroom mechanisms are driving the high school kids to convert the soap into a six pack in the first place.
Of our changing physique: Has anyone noticed the growing trend (and I mean that literally) of women’s backsides? I contend that the situation has risen because of steroids in the food chain. Someone wants to have a Mr. Universe contest starring cows. Growing super sized Holstein’s has a domino effect that is creating a world of lopsided children. My tiny little girl looks like she has a ham attached to her behind. I can’t think of any teenage girl with a figure that doesn’t have a can the size of two overstuffed water-balloons in the last stage of “one more move and there will be a tidal wave”. It’s disproportionably disturbing.
In my day growing up if you saw one girl in the 7th or 8th grade requiring a bra it was a celebratory occasion; rare and most appreciated. You always knew the boy who had just discovered the blossoming female because his pupils were always fixed and dilated, and you could use his tongue for a red carpet. Some young ladies today have hooters that rival their keesters. The question is which squishy area is going to get more attention from the video camera or the local pervert. I was apparently born in the wrong decade because I certainly would have liked to have more things to look at in school other than my teacher’s scolding looks and Sister Mary No-You Don’ts chalkboard erasers rocketing toward my head. Can you guess what I was looking at when she used to launch those volleys?
Where have we gone wrong? Is it the fast food generation or has my ophthalmologist given me a super sizing magnifying eye-glass prescription? I’m a big fan of Jell-O so not to worry; as a dirty old man I know I will enjoy things that wiggle more. I’m just not sure I want my daughter to be one of them.
Truth is stranger than fiction: Getting back educational setting, it seems that outside of Washington D.C. is Flintstone High School. Can you imagine being a graduate? Sitting in desks made of stone may be one thing, but waiting for birds to fly back and forth between classes so as to give the principals announcements on the intercom must be annoying. I’m sure the boys don’t wear shoes and the girls all have bones in their hair too. Not to be out done, another D.C. area school oddity is a military school that goes by the name Fork Union. I don’t know what this has to do with anything, but what are the odds that the alumni reunion doesn’t have this said as the graduates reminisce back on their days on campus? “Good ol’ Fork U” they probably say. It’s no wonder school kids don’t respect anything anymore. I wonder if they have a high sign to go with their school moniker. If so I’ll bet it’s a hand gesture! It might make for a rough four years at school games in the sports arena with cheerleaders shouting “Fork U” while opponents undoubtedly get riled. Then again maybe the odds are against the adversaries because of the cheerleader’s Buick-sized hips that have their rivals in a hypnotic state with their tongues on the floor.
posted by Giosue' Santarelli at 8:24 AM
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