Imagine, if you will, a world without toilet paper.
For men, not that big a deal.
Unless you're one of those prissy, uptight, high-maintenance, high-strung, "anal," (See what I did there?), metro-sexual sort of men ... the kind who put the "foo" in "foo-foo." (For the record, I am not one of those kinds of men. I'm pretty down to earth.)
Men, in the above given situation, will switch into "necessity is the mother of invention" mode. A random washcloth* ... that magazine sitting on the back of the commode ... the emptied toilet paper roll itself ... for men, all those examples could be utilized to clean the back of your front in that time of need.
Now ... if you're a woman, that's entirely different story. Women need toilet paper. Women live for the stuff. And that's okay. (Hokay ... they don't "live" for the stuff, but you know what I mean.)
But don't go getting your chaps in a hide just yet. As far as I know, there's not going to be any sort of shortage in the toilet paper industry. (Again, as far as I know.)
But let me tell you something: There is a contingent of ne'er-do-wells out there who would love to "stir the shit" (if you will) and vanquish toilet paper from the face of the earth ... just to cause panic and general mayhem and monkey business. (Though, let's be honest: If toilet paper really was gone, daddy, gone I'm certain it would be an issue with far greater and long-reaching consequences than simple monkey business.)
It's not like the internet going down, which would require one to get off the couch, stop the spreading of one's ass and actually perform some routine duty that's been put off most of the week ... like wash those dishes that have turned into a kitchen sink science lab experiment complete with growing mold.
Or running out of milk. Or coffee creamer. Or Coca Cola. Or not being able to don that favorite shirt because it's in the bottom of the laundry basket and needs to be washed.
"Durr ... uhm ... yup ... I'm almost out of nuts.
Now whuddoo I do ... ???"
Why do I bring up some of these things?
Because - while there is that contingent of underhanded mischief makers out there - there is a small group of boneheads who contact The Unbelievables for the dopiest reasons ever, thinking we'll rush to the rescue at the drop of a hat. For events that are, in essence, non-events.
For example: I was the only one at The Unbelieva-Base one afternoon when the following call came in ...
"Unbelieva-Base ... this is Michael ..."
"Hey ... Michael? Hi. This is Jed. Something came up I hope you guys might be able to help out with. The other day? I found out left-handed people get injured more often than right-handed people. Matter of fact, I heard something like 2,500 lefties die each year - DIE, mind you - from using right-handed products! Twenty! Five! Hundred! People! A! Year! Help us, Unbelievables ... you're our only hope!"
Of course, I told the guy I had another call coming in.
What was I supposed to say? "Really? Well ... we'll jump on this right away. We'll get in contact with all the left-handed folks out there coast to coast and discourage them from using right-handed products post haste ..."
No. I don't think so. And this is just one example in a bevy of them I've decided to share.
We get this kind of stuff all the time. Jeff and Clark have stories in abundance and they'll be relaying some of the more ludicrous calls and notifications we've received asking for our assistance.
Stay tuned ...
* Of course, said washcloth would be disposed of before the wife/girlfriend/mom/hostess could find out.