Was camping the other day. I had to take a dump so I walked to an out of the way location and did my business. I’m not all that picky about where I take a crap, like some people are. I figure that if I’m getting all the waste out of my body I don’t mind where the smelly, nasty, shit goes as long as it is far away from where I am. However, I refuse to wipe with anything that nature provides. So, my girlfriend was nice enough to buy a roll of toilet paper just for our excursion. This, in theory, was great. But the problem was that she somehow bought the cheapest, roughest, toilet paper ever created. It was like wiping my ass with a cactus. It was so bad that it brought me to tears. Let me tell you, those were two actions that were never meant to go together. I’ve wanted to cry before a poop before, and I’ve wanted to cry during a poop, but usually the wiping stage is the relief stage of the bowel-movement process. Not so in this case. I actually began to wonder why someone would release something so torturous into the world. I would have gladly accepted a bidet-waterboarding over the painful glass-shard-toilet-paper-wiping. In fact, I think the experience did irreparable harm to me both physically and mentally. Now, no toilet paper seems to be good enough. I yearn for a TP that is softer than any material on Earth. I want to wipe my ass with a cloud. Its so bad that I’m thinking of starting up my own business of making toilet paper. I’ll make the TP out of butter, and my tagline will be “Don’t Hate Your Anus.” I’m sure it would sell like crazy. I mean, who doesn’t want to wipe their ass with a stick of butter? Think about it.