(This post was last modified: 04-24-2020, 05:38 PM by Lipripper660.)
I can't even explain to you how much I hate Corona Virus and its life/health/economic/freedom wrecking ways but the weirdest symptom I've noticed about the virus, judging by the availability of toilet paper, is its propensity to cause us to break out in a multiplicity of tiny little bung holes and poop ourselves to death. How else can one explain the dearth of Fod Wad in my grocery store?
A while back, things were getting critical around the Darrington household and I had to put on my camo coveralls and go hunting the secretive Bog Roll. I hunted high and low, in fact I hunted at Lowes because I heard a whisper on the wind they carried Loo Paper. They do, but the natives had beaten me there! Albertsons, Walmart, Fred Meyers, all done! I usually am a bit of a prepper anyway and my normal operation is to buy Muckender by the case. One case open and being used. One case sealed and in reserve. But my daughter and son-in-law took a job here and awaiting their real estate transactions to finalize, have been living with me. I love having them and the three Grands but our TP usage graph outran my forecast and things got to defcon 4. I even tried business supply houses. You know the place. They sell the supplies used in public restrooms etc. Strike Two! So then my plan was to sneak up on the wary Poop Mittens via electronics and score me a case. High and low. Even asked a young kid to help. Nope. Strike three! I knew I had some Hole Roll stashed in both trailers and some Mountain Money vacuum packed in a river rafting box, and there was the Ziplocked roll in my hunting pack, but with 7 humans, addicted to three square meals a day, bleak the horizon was!
What could we do? I wasn't going to put a bunch of paper towel into the septic system. I started wondering what my shirts would look like if they were sleeveless. There was always that basket full of mismated socks in the laundry room. Hmmmm. Maybe a sponge on a stick? Nah, momma would never go for that. I had a kid spend some years in the Philippines and went “native” there. He taught me how, and I learned, but now nobody will eat my cookies. Gotta…..think…..outside….the…..box. I grew up with an outhouse. Corn Cob? Naw. No corn, and a tomato seemed way too slick. Does Sears even print a catalog anymore? (Using the Cabelas would be like tearing pages from the Bible). And then, looking through some photos from a Yellowstone trip, and a pic of Old Faithful, it hit me. WATER. Those Europeans might be on to something with their Bidets!
My fingers fairly flew as I searched the Internet. I was ready to pull old fixtures and replumb and even put on working clothes. A man on a mission! And imagine my surprise when I found a veritable cornucopia of add-on options that would not necessitate donning overalls and pulling a building permit. And the cherry on top, they were available. After much study and review reading, and after a couple of evening YouTube sessions, I chose a Luxe Neo 320.
It took about ten days for the box to arrive. Hmmm. Smallish box. Just longer than the box a pair of my size 14 shoes would come in. Man, I gotta get my tools gathered and read that manual! There were very few parts, a couple of rolls of hose, two plastic wrenches (that I knew I wouldn't use), and the unit itself. I was like a kid on Christmas with a new Erector Set. Elbows and A-holes and I got after it. Remove toilet seat. Check. Shut off tank water supply. Check. Drain tank. Check. Remove toilet supply line. Check. Attach bidet supply hardware. Check. Reattach toilet supply line. Check. Position bidet under toilet seat and reinstall seat. Check. Attach bidet water supply line. Check. Turn on water and check for leaks. None. Finished. Unless you want to route a hot water line to make it high-class and adjustable. (Nah man. I ain't no sissy.) well now. It's lovely. Darn thing looks like a control panel for the Starship Enterprise! So now I'm telling myself to get my uniform down and get in Captain Kirks drivers seat!
I “shot the moon” and shouted “the Eagle has landed”. Reaching to my right, I glided my fingers over the gleaming knob. Index finger under the trigger, I threw caution to the wind and threw the knob on full bore! Now I don't know what school a guy goes to in order to learn how to aim a bidet nozzle. I've been a sportsman all my life and know when you put a new telescopic sight on a rifle you can, through care, get it close, but there will be some range time getting it zeroed in. Let me tell you friends. The kid who zeroed this one is a master at his craft! What I had happening was surprising to say the least. It wasn't a millimeter off. This kid would have won the long distance shoot-off at Wimbeldon. BAM! It felt like I'd entered a Constipation Anonimous convention and I was the visual aid. It felt like the volunteer firemen were practicing with their new pumper truck and my fanny was on fire! It felt like I was a Macy's day parade balloon and I was getting filled up! Gents, I WAS NOT READY FOR THAT!
Well. It was obvious the thing was working, and after the initial shock of feeling naked and bent over in the car wash, I settled in and started to learn things. First off, the valve isn't on-off but adjustable, and adjust I did. (I didn't suppose I'd ever eat a bag of Portland cement and need to blast it off). I learned that Idaho well water is cold and a delicious drink of water but for the washing of bits that don't see sunlight EVER, after the line was clear of room-temp water, the briskness of earth water felt like a Tommy gun filled with penguins. Well, I went and got the drill, bored two holes in the cabinet and routed hot water to the unit always muttering to myself, “the hot water is for her. I'm not sissy enough to need or want it!”.
Test number two. With a bit of fidgeting with the controller, and a genuine concern of “too hot” I realized that Rump Roast would not be on the menu. Wow! This was nice! I pointed my hand at my reflection in the mirror and in my best Capt. Kirk voice said a dramatic “Scotty. Engage”. I thoroughly enjoyed my flight through the Galaxy. Wow. This thing is gonna work great! I bet I can sell the TP on eBay!
But then it hit me. Momma is coming home soon and because I know how she is with change, and because I went off the reservation and made this modest $55 decision with MY mad money, and because she was not consulted, I knew I'd have to put on my salesman hat and help her discover the benefits of change. Sure enough, she came in, went to the bathroom to wash up, and exclaimed “what the hell did you do”? “That went better than it could have” I thought, and I prepared to step to the plate and take my swings.
“It's a bidet” I said.
“I know what it is. Why in THEE HELL is it on my toilet?”
(That was the first time I learn that she considered the toilet her property but I forged on).
“You know how hard it's been to find toilet tissue”? I used the word tissue to sound sophisticated.
“And you know how much I love and adore you. And how I want to make life better for you”.
Side eyes.
“Well, this will be like a spa day each time you visit the loo”.
I cringed a little and wondered what the bidet would do for a guy who just got the crap kicked out of him but to my surprise she just said.
“You're cleaning the Damn thing.”
You might suspect my wife to be a salty sailor from her language. And for a Mormon girl it really is a bit jarring. Forgive her. She is a Montanan.
Ha! I thought. She doesn't know the darn thing has a self cleaning mode. Easy Peasy. I got this!
So there it was in all its gleaming glory. My new bidet, with the self cleaning mode, riding the rim of HER toilet. I, gents, am the victor! But the story is not over. I knew she is a curious lady. And I knew she knew I knew it. I had showed here the “wash” cycle, the “women” cycle, and the hot-warm-cold knob. She acted totally disinterested but when I hit her with the “I don't was dishes with a dry sponge, do I”? I knew she was going to drop-a-squat and take that baby for a whirl. I slyly seemed to go about my business but secretly I awaited “her business”. And then it happened. She arose and headed to the porcelain princess and shut the door. I crept close and put an ear to the keyhole. Wait, wait! Mumbling. And then “WHAT THE……oh, well now then……” And silence. I hurried back to my seat and was reading DFS when she came back into the room.
“How was it” I asked.
“Weird….but ok” she stated.
“But I still had to have paper to dry off” she blurted like she felt she had given too much ground to the enemy.
“Dry sponge” I dead panned and continued reading.
So the bidet has been a hit. Learning curve? You bet. But not bad at all. We have cut paper usage to infinitesimal just as a dependable supply shows up on store shelves. Does it work? Yep. Very much yep. This will be my best $55 dollar spend of the year. Actually I believe it'll be my best $165 spend because she wants me to put them on HER other two toilets.
I stated “you gotta clean em”.
Drop mic and exit stage left.
A while back, things were getting critical around the Darrington household and I had to put on my camo coveralls and go hunting the secretive Bog Roll. I hunted high and low, in fact I hunted at Lowes because I heard a whisper on the wind they carried Loo Paper. They do, but the natives had beaten me there! Albertsons, Walmart, Fred Meyers, all done! I usually am a bit of a prepper anyway and my normal operation is to buy Muckender by the case. One case open and being used. One case sealed and in reserve. But my daughter and son-in-law took a job here and awaiting their real estate transactions to finalize, have been living with me. I love having them and the three Grands but our TP usage graph outran my forecast and things got to defcon 4. I even tried business supply houses. You know the place. They sell the supplies used in public restrooms etc. Strike Two! So then my plan was to sneak up on the wary Poop Mittens via electronics and score me a case. High and low. Even asked a young kid to help. Nope. Strike three! I knew I had some Hole Roll stashed in both trailers and some Mountain Money vacuum packed in a river rafting box, and there was the Ziplocked roll in my hunting pack, but with 7 humans, addicted to three square meals a day, bleak the horizon was!
What could we do? I wasn't going to put a bunch of paper towel into the septic system. I started wondering what my shirts would look like if they were sleeveless. There was always that basket full of mismated socks in the laundry room. Hmmmm. Maybe a sponge on a stick? Nah, momma would never go for that. I had a kid spend some years in the Philippines and went “native” there. He taught me how, and I learned, but now nobody will eat my cookies. Gotta…..think…..outside….the…..box. I grew up with an outhouse. Corn Cob? Naw. No corn, and a tomato seemed way too slick. Does Sears even print a catalog anymore? (Using the Cabelas would be like tearing pages from the Bible). And then, looking through some photos from a Yellowstone trip, and a pic of Old Faithful, it hit me. WATER. Those Europeans might be on to something with their Bidets!
My fingers fairly flew as I searched the Internet. I was ready to pull old fixtures and replumb and even put on working clothes. A man on a mission! And imagine my surprise when I found a veritable cornucopia of add-on options that would not necessitate donning overalls and pulling a building permit. And the cherry on top, they were available. After much study and review reading, and after a couple of evening YouTube sessions, I chose a Luxe Neo 320.
It took about ten days for the box to arrive. Hmmm. Smallish box. Just longer than the box a pair of my size 14 shoes would come in. Man, I gotta get my tools gathered and read that manual! There were very few parts, a couple of rolls of hose, two plastic wrenches (that I knew I wouldn't use), and the unit itself. I was like a kid on Christmas with a new Erector Set. Elbows and A-holes and I got after it. Remove toilet seat. Check. Shut off tank water supply. Check. Drain tank. Check. Remove toilet supply line. Check. Attach bidet supply hardware. Check. Reattach toilet supply line. Check. Position bidet under toilet seat and reinstall seat. Check. Attach bidet water supply line. Check. Turn on water and check for leaks. None. Finished. Unless you want to route a hot water line to make it high-class and adjustable. (Nah man. I ain't no sissy.) well now. It's lovely. Darn thing looks like a control panel for the Starship Enterprise! So now I'm telling myself to get my uniform down and get in Captain Kirks drivers seat!
I “shot the moon” and shouted “the Eagle has landed”. Reaching to my right, I glided my fingers over the gleaming knob. Index finger under the trigger, I threw caution to the wind and threw the knob on full bore! Now I don't know what school a guy goes to in order to learn how to aim a bidet nozzle. I've been a sportsman all my life and know when you put a new telescopic sight on a rifle you can, through care, get it close, but there will be some range time getting it zeroed in. Let me tell you friends. The kid who zeroed this one is a master at his craft! What I had happening was surprising to say the least. It wasn't a millimeter off. This kid would have won the long distance shoot-off at Wimbeldon. BAM! It felt like I'd entered a Constipation Anonimous convention and I was the visual aid. It felt like the volunteer firemen were practicing with their new pumper truck and my fanny was on fire! It felt like I was a Macy's day parade balloon and I was getting filled up! Gents, I WAS NOT READY FOR THAT!
Well. It was obvious the thing was working, and after the initial shock of feeling naked and bent over in the car wash, I settled in and started to learn things. First off, the valve isn't on-off but adjustable, and adjust I did. (I didn't suppose I'd ever eat a bag of Portland cement and need to blast it off). I learned that Idaho well water is cold and a delicious drink of water but for the washing of bits that don't see sunlight EVER, after the line was clear of room-temp water, the briskness of earth water felt like a Tommy gun filled with penguins. Well, I went and got the drill, bored two holes in the cabinet and routed hot water to the unit always muttering to myself, “the hot water is for her. I'm not sissy enough to need or want it!”.
Test number two. With a bit of fidgeting with the controller, and a genuine concern of “too hot” I realized that Rump Roast would not be on the menu. Wow! This was nice! I pointed my hand at my reflection in the mirror and in my best Capt. Kirk voice said a dramatic “Scotty. Engage”. I thoroughly enjoyed my flight through the Galaxy. Wow. This thing is gonna work great! I bet I can sell the TP on eBay!
But then it hit me. Momma is coming home soon and because I know how she is with change, and because I went off the reservation and made this modest $55 decision with MY mad money, and because she was not consulted, I knew I'd have to put on my salesman hat and help her discover the benefits of change. Sure enough, she came in, went to the bathroom to wash up, and exclaimed “what the hell did you do”? “That went better than it could have” I thought, and I prepared to step to the plate and take my swings.
“It's a bidet” I said.
“I know what it is. Why in THEE HELL is it on my toilet?”
(That was the first time I learn that she considered the toilet her property but I forged on).
“You know how hard it's been to find toilet tissue”? I used the word tissue to sound sophisticated.
“And you know how much I love and adore you. And how I want to make life better for you”.
Side eyes.
“Well, this will be like a spa day each time you visit the loo”.
I cringed a little and wondered what the bidet would do for a guy who just got the crap kicked out of him but to my surprise she just said.
“You're cleaning the Damn thing.”
You might suspect my wife to be a salty sailor from her language. And for a Mormon girl it really is a bit jarring. Forgive her. She is a Montanan.
Ha! I thought. She doesn't know the darn thing has a self cleaning mode. Easy Peasy. I got this!
So there it was in all its gleaming glory. My new bidet, with the self cleaning mode, riding the rim of HER toilet. I, gents, am the victor! But the story is not over. I knew she is a curious lady. And I knew she knew I knew it. I had showed here the “wash” cycle, the “women” cycle, and the hot-warm-cold knob. She acted totally disinterested but when I hit her with the “I don't was dishes with a dry sponge, do I”? I knew she was going to drop-a-squat and take that baby for a whirl. I slyly seemed to go about my business but secretly I awaited “her business”. And then it happened. She arose and headed to the porcelain princess and shut the door. I crept close and put an ear to the keyhole. Wait, wait! Mumbling. And then “WHAT THE……oh, well now then……” And silence. I hurried back to my seat and was reading DFS when she came back into the room.
“How was it” I asked.
“Weird….but ok” she stated.
“But I still had to have paper to dry off” she blurted like she felt she had given too much ground to the enemy.
“Dry sponge” I dead panned and continued reading.
So the bidet has been a hit. Learning curve? You bet. But not bad at all. We have cut paper usage to infinitesimal just as a dependable supply shows up on store shelves. Does it work? Yep. Very much yep. This will be my best $55 dollar spend of the year. Actually I believe it'll be my best $165 spend because she wants me to put them on HER other two toilets.
I stated “you gotta clean em”.
Drop mic and exit stage left.