was taken in the bathrooms adjacent the Honors Society main office at the University of Nevada, Reno, where I attend. Let your fears be allayed, I had not yet removed my pants by the time I took it.
I am not a member of any of these societies. Not due to a lack of capacity on my part, I indeed believe I possess such a capacity, but instead due to a lack of attraction to such endeavors as membership would surely entail. In short, I think I know what I am and am not missing. My first thoughts were those of jealousy. Did they, by some virtue I could not perceive, deserve more toilet paper than the rest of us? Was the array of rolls there due to some occupational hazard I was not aware of? Was it all an elaborate and obscure pun about having a crappy job? I would have felt the same way had any of those been the case, since I despise being on the “outside” of an “inside joke”, and I would wish to be aware of any occupation which warranted such a precaution. The more I thought about it, though, the more confusing the display became.
Was it really a positive thing to be granted such tools? Yes, I decided, it was. I enjoy having a comparably clean rectum, simply because the alternative is undesirable. I enjoy it in the same way that I enjoy wearing a coat in the winter. Until such a time as defecation is no longer necessary, I must be appreciative of every advantage I get.
Infinitesimal as the opportunity for taking advantage of such an asset may be, I resent not being granted it. This is discrimination of the worst order. In addition, it furthers an unpleasant stereotype about the odor of people not smart enough to be accepted into Honors Societies. Prejudice is alive and well, and it smells like a public restroom with insufficient toilet paper.