Warning: This post is graphic in nature

Okay, first the teaser: when I get home, get my computer set up and get some of the pictures I have taken on the computer, you will be impressed by the beauty, frightened by the spider, and either laugh hysterically or be completely morally outraged by the sign that I laughed so hard at I had to take TWO pictures of.

Now, to the point of THIS post.

There are certain things you come to expect and appreciate and never realize that you have done so. It is not unless and until you no longer have access to them that you realize how much you appreciate certain things and have come to believe they are actually part of life, almost a Constitutionally protected, inalienable right.

And then they are taken away.

I am sure you are wondering what I am talking about, even though it should be patently, blatantly obvious.

Toilets.

See, when you travel, you are behooved to use public restrooms exclusively. And that is a very, very frightening prospect.

Walk in to a toilet around here and the first thing you notice is...no cowboy hats.

You know what I mean...those cheesy paper things in all the public restrooms in Oregon that theoretically protect your sphinctorical regions from the diseases you might get if you plant your cheeks in the same places as other people do.

This is actually a real concern as there are some of us who...well, there is no polite way to say this, so I will just put it bluntly. A lot of people produce copious quantities of butt sweat.

And butt sweat has a way of being left on toilet seats. Quite nasty, actually.

Sadly, that is not the worst problem.

For whatever reason, many idiots decide that in public restrooms, when time to pee, they are A) too good to use the wall urinals and B) too squeamish to lift the seats.

So they just pee ON the seats.

And leave it for the next fine customer to come along.

So the next person comes along and has a nice stew of butt sweat, urine, and single-ply cheap toilet paper to select.

What if you really, REALLY, REALLY, REALLY have to drop a log?

First you have to go toilet shopping to see which one is the cleanest appearing. Because even though you know good and well this has happened on every toilet, you still want one that at least looks clean, even though it isn't.

Of course, then you are fighting the urge to not toilet shop if other people are in the restroom. How weird do you feel opening door after door and peering into the toilet, all while wishing you could wait until you got home to a "safe" toilet?

Then you try to "protect" the seat by laying down toilet paper on top of the seat to at least give you psychological protection against planting your cheeks where other cheeks have already been planted and where the seat has often been "watered".

Of course, with single-ply, hole ridden cheapest vendor paper, you know this is an exercise in futility.

But the cold, hard truth is you have no choice. Your bowels have informed you in no uncertain terms that the occupants are being evicted one way or the other.

Then you notice the other downside to Tennessee toilets. They are apparently all built for midgets.

See, at home the toilet seat is probably about 24" or 30" off the floor so you can have a comfortable seat.

Well, okay, so "comfortable" is stretching a point. It is still a toilet, not an easy chair.

But you get the point.

Out here, the toilets are about 16" off the ground. So you feel like a cave man as you just go for a good squat. Your knees are sticking above your earlobes, your face is pretty much in your own nether regions, and your body is so compressed the, uh, excrement is pushed sort of back in so to speak.

So now you are in a strange location on a filthy, unprotected toilet seat that makes you feel like you are in the Hanoi Hilton and your stomach starts hurting because you are unable to discharge the stuff that made you go through all the gyrations in the first place.

Now, there really should be a great way to finish this, but I think I will just leave it with a horribly awesome line: I think I just left a toilet-related literary skid mark.