The reason why we're friends

Last night, Z-Ditty and I realized that we'd both independently run out of toilet paper at the same time. Birds of a feather and all that. Now, as a semi-functioning adult who's been living on her own for some time, you'd wonder how I could run out of toilet paper on a regular basis. I mean, you know you're going to need it - it's not like one has unexpected runs (haha) on the product or anything. And yet I'm often trying to figure out what paper products I have in my house that can temporarily stand-in for TP. I'm proud to say that the kitty litter hasn't been misused...yet.

Anyways, last night, right at closing time, I was able to throw myself between the doors of the liquor store that's within spitting distance of my backyard to purchase a roll. Z-Ditty and I were on our way out to a bar and she thoughtfully suggested that I leave the TP at home. However, I had a bee in my bonnet for some reason and thus insisted that *I* had no shame in my bodily functions, by god, and I was not going to try to manage my image to portray myself otherwise. So off the three of us went: Z-Ditty, me, and my toilet paper. We had a good time. The TP got to sit at the bar, then behind the bar (as, after a few cocktails, I'd forgotten it, so the kindly bartender stowed it away for safe-keeping), then finally in the chair next to me at the Diner while we got late-night cheese fries. I like to think I showed it a good time.