I pity objects without emotion. I blame it on Disney. Movies like Beauty & the Beast where candles have family’s and French accents make me to believe that everything has emotion attached to it. It really is a sick thing to believe.
One thing I feel bad for is that last piece of toilet paper. You know, the one you stick in your ass two, maybe three times just to make sure everything is nice and clean in there. It feels wasteful to me. Some poor child slaved away in Thailand making toilet paper to wipe my American ass after eating my large American dinner for me to go and waste pieces at the end of my shits. It’s a really guilty feeling to stick four fingers (who are you to judge?) up my ass with a piece of toilet paper attached to them only to find that it’s still pasty white and to proceed to toss it into the toilet like a dead family pet. Every time I do this I imagine that piece of toilet paper screaming in a cartoonish voice “No Tim! Why? Why did you waste me?!?!” as he swirls around the toilet to his death. I would assume toilet paper is a guy. Only objects ending in the letter “A” are females. Spatulas, bananas, and vaginas to name a few. Ironically of course two of those look like penises. Can you guess which ones?