Can Openers

While I sit around and dwell on things I often question the use of language. Today I feel for talking to you about:

“Potty language." No not swearing, that is "Potty mouth."

Note: This article is best digested by frequent users of American slang.

For centuries man has sought new and exciting was of politely excusing himself from social encounters to visit the “Restroom” for the general purpose of relieving himself. What began as “Excuse me, I have to take a trip outside” has since transformed into heightened urinary rhetoric that might cause Freud to blush. Let us focus on some of the rather ridiculous ways we talk to other users about going to the bathroom.

The small minority of space cadets that are “taking a whiz” these days have obviously been drugged. What exactly is a whiz? Any word that starts with a w and ends with a z can’t possibly be good for the health. Probably 70% of all people that are taking a leak in times of relief are blue collar workers, plumbers predominantly. After all, once you take a leak, it has to be fixed right away. What do I know about taking a leak; I can’t even change my oil.

At times I cannot help but wonder why the name John was chosen for a white porcelain receptacle. Obviously any name with more than two syllables would be eliminated for reasons of speed. What is wrong with something that has a little more flair, like Ted for instance? Picture this: You are lounging about on the deck of the local floating bar, life preservers included. The waiter brings you a Tom Collins and he suavely replaces your ashtray as you pay with Carte Blanche, the French credit card. Scott, Zelda and Daisy mention something about a steak and a Lowenbrau special being served in the underwater dining club. Daisy belches loudly and giggles sweetly. Scott makes a rather vague reference to God and you all blush. By this time your face is turning turquoise and your bladder has filed for divorce. So, very politely, you excuse yourself and announce, “I must conference with Ted.” Now that’s class.  

Piss, I bet Mr. Webster doesn’t know the first thing about piss. When exactly did urine graduate to piss? This word is very upsetting. People just don’t piss. Snakes piss. And for those that do, they are the pissers that don’t even bother to open the lid on the toilet seat. They just piss all over the porcelain. Despite these rather negative characteristics, pissing seems to be catching on. Now people are getting “Pissed off” and there is even a song called “Pissing in the wind”. I can see where the term “piss poor” got its start as a descriptive phrase, but riddle me this, when you take a piss, where exactly do you take it?

There are those few upper class elite women who after a seven course French meal announce to their date for the evening that “natures calling.” Who’s calling? SO take a message and call back. I am not even sure if these women know when nature is calling to them much less what it is saying. Plus I understand that nature always calls collect.

It was only a matter of time before we start designating numbers for the various body functions. For the sake of taste and judgment let’s discuss the number one. A final definition of this phrase should be “liquid ecstasy.” Despite this apparent effort to doll up an otherwise boring label, I still find doing a number one tedious and boring. Let’s leave the numbers to the accountants of the world who really get off on that sort of thing anyways.

How did we find the names “Rest room”, “Water closet”,” Bathroom”, “The Lue” and the “Powder room”? What does any of this have to do with a toilet? Rest rooms sound like a room with a bed in it. I feel sorry for anyone who finds it necessary to sleep on a toilet. When someone tells you that they have to go to the bathroom, don’t you expect them to return all wet?

It was Thomas Crapper who invented the flushing toilet. Thank you, Thomas! It would have seemed fitting that we could have found a less insulting tribute to the man and his name. For instance we could have named the toilet after him. The name toilet is strange and should be replaced anyways. Crapper seems more fitting but lacks class. Thomas like the term John tends to be on the confusing side. Let’s face it, Ted does not work either. After much considered thought the perfect solution is obvious. There is only one fitting name and that is “T.C.” It is short, simple and sweet. Think of all the possibilities. T.C. could stand for personally anything you would like, for instance; Thomas Crapper, toilet crapper, toilet closet and my personal favorite, tender care.

So now that we have put an end to this entire dribble concerning potty language, I for one can rest in peace. Whenever I “Go,” I will make sure to visit the “Tender Care Unit” with some respect and I suggest you do the same. Let the space cadets whiz, the plumbers leak, the Johns use the John, the snakes piss, the snobs call nature, the accountants go in numbers, and the lazy people use the restroom. The rest of us can smile when we announce to lesser educated people that we have to use the “T.C.”