Sunday, March 13, 2011

The Hazards of 140 Characters

Taken from Basic Instructions. Go there now. Enjoy.

Mr. Meyer, thanks for being a Twitter geek. And a sci-fi nerd at the same time.

Makes me think back to the dark, dreary times in which we were forbidden to take our children into any public restroom without first vetting the toilets to make sure they weren't scary. And by "scary" I mean not encrusted in filth starting from the 1950s, swarming with Marlboro butts or locked behind a door for which the sole key you must approach the Scary Tattooed and Surly Gas Station Attendant of Doom, but those toilets that flushed automatically when the sensor was activated. My kids HATED those toilets. How many times did I have to cup my hands over those stupid censors, leaning over my boys like some kind of demented pervert -- Don't worry folks, or call the cops, I'm just engaged in parenting there -- and then not giving a damn if the kid washed his hands or not, just worrying that I got my hands washed.

Those toilets aren't magical. They're diabolical. And my rant about them DEFINITELY won't fit into a mere 140 characters.

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