Down the pan

So I had the day off because it's er, Monday or something and I watched TV, went to the gym and took a turn in the Sainsbury's.

I needed a few things; tuna, water etc. We'd also run out of paper for the loo so I needed to get that too.

I don't know about you but I find buying paper for the facilities a very tricky process. I'm only able to do it if I can hide it in my gym bag.

If there's nowhere to hide the packet, I will not buy it.

Walking out of the supermarket with bog roll is one of the most embarrassing and shameless things in the world.

There are people who are happy with not even putting it in a bag and walking out with it under their arm. I wouldn't be caught dead carrying toilet paper in public.

I know we all do it but I really don't want evidence.

Sometimes we take the car out for a monthly shop and my housemate insists on hanging a 12-pack on the back of the trolley. From that moment onwards, I will have nothing to do with the process and keep a safe distance.

She is the one who has to smuggle it past the cashier and carry it to the car. I refuse.

And I judge people by the colour of their rolls. If I found out that the man of my dreams bought yellow or floral-coloured toilet paper I would have difficulty accepting him in my bed.

It's toilet paper, not an interior design statement for god's sake. The only colour it should be is white.

Rolls are to be hidden in the cupboard under the sink not paraded on the top of the cistern with fucking Ballerina Barbie stuck in the middle of it.

This ludicrous decoration is completely and utterly unacceptable.

Not that I want this blog to change your life or anything but the next time you skip out of the Sainsbury's with your 4-pack of toilet paper under your arm, think of what it's doing for your dignity.

Reputation down the pan if you ask me.