Happy Trails to You

Thought for the day: Please don't squeeze the... HEY! Where's the Charmin???

This is a common sight all over the world right now.

If poor ol' Mr. Whipple from the old Charmin television ads were still alive, wouldn't he be astounded? I mean, his very raison d'etre has disappeared. There's absolutely no reason to warn anyone not to squeeze the Charmin these days, because there's none left in the stores for anyone to squeeze... or buy.

Maybe we should blame the mysterious disappearing t.p. on those darned bears... (Or should I say bares?)

Believe me, I'm not making light of COVID-19. Like many of you, my hubby and I are both in the high risk category. But...( Or should I say butt?) as usual, I think the best way to cope with what's happening is with humor. (Surprise!)

So how about a silly little poem/song? (You can imagine me picking my guitar and singing, if you will...)

               ♪♫♪♫

The pandemic news is scary,
And no telling what's to come.
We're locked down in isolation,
And some brains have gotten numb.
That's the simplest explanation
For this obsession oh-so-dumb.
The world's kinda crumbling around them
So– they crave paper to wipe their bum??? 

CHORUS:
Buy it, buy it, and then buy some more.
Stack it in the closets; pile it on the floor.
Stash it in the basement; stuff it in the car.
Drink up all your bourbon, and then store it in your bar.
Throw out all your furniture; you can use it as your bed.
Build towers to the ceiling, and then fill a backyard shed.
Ignore your grumpy neighbors when they look at you and frown,
Because you're gonna have the cleanest butt in town.

Like a swarm of hungry locusts,
They ravage every store,
Grabbing every roll in sight
And then moving on for more.
This worldwide troop of buttheads,
Perhaps a million strong,
Care only about their precious rears
As they sing their hoarding song:

CHORUS:
Buy it, buy it, and then buy some more.
Stack it in the closets; pile it on the floor.
Stash it in the basement; stuff it in the car.
Drink up all your bourbon, and then store it in your bar.
Throw out all your furniture; you can use it as your bed.
Build towers to the ceiling, and then fill a backyard shed.
Ignore your grumpy neighbors when they look at you and frown,
Because you're gonna have the cleanest butt in town.

Fat rolls, thin rolls, packs from four to forty-eight;
Soft stuff, rough stuff, and stuff that ain't too great.
It really doesn't matter... it's all about the hunt.
"Let no roll go unpurchased!" (A stinky selfish stunt.)
Until this pandemic's over and the panic buys grow still, 
They'll amass more toilet paper to leave their children in a will.
This behavior is atrocious; I think it's very wrong,
But that happy horde of hoarders still crow their hoarding song:

CHORUS:
Buy it, buy it, and then buy some more.
Stack it in the closets; pile it on the floor.
Stash it in the basement; stuff it in the car.
Drink up all your bourbon, and then store it in your bar.
Throw out all your furniture; you can use it as your bed.
Build towers to the ceiling, and then fill a backyard shed.
Ignore your grumpy neighbors when they look at you and frown,
Because you're gonna have the cleanest butt in town...
♪♫ The cleeeeeanest buuutt in toooooown.... ♫♪

Okay, was that silly enough for you? No? Good, because I've got some cartoons for ya, too.

(Dime bags of t.p....)

our heroes... always eager to help

 Don't forget! It's more important than EVER to WASH YOUR HANDS!!! But...

              Until next time, hunker down and take care of yourselves. And keep smiling.

P.S.  On Wednesday, I took advantage of the early morning hour of shopping set aside just for us old farts at our local grocery store, and I thought I'd do you guys a solid by sharing a valuable public service announcement with you:

                                                                  You're welcome.