skip to the loo!

what’s with the 9 o’clock bathroom rush? sheesh… are all our bladders in synch or something?
i want my own private bathroom. on the door (which locks), there will be a sign which reads “hessie’s loo”. the door will be red. no, purple. a nice shade of soft purple. and it will have a brass handle and one of those nifty keypad locks so i won’t ever have to fumble with keys to get into my water closet. it will be decorated tastefully in shades of coffee and forest green. the toilet seat will be padded. and heated. the toilet paper will be of the finest quality available and it will dispense from behind the roll, not over it. the floor will be covered in a dense, lush carpet. when i enter, i will remove my shoes and socks just to wiggle my toes in the squishy goodness which it provides. there will be a small window, through which a soft, cool, spring-scented breeze will waft in all year long, regardless of the true season. on the back of the purple door there will hang a mirror, a magic mirror, in which my reflection will be svelte, sexy and elegant, despite any spots, wrinkles of puffiness i may be experiencing on any given day. i will have soft, white hand towels and an assortment of expensive lotions for my ablutions. on those days which i require a titch of follicle assistance, a golden, braided pull-cord dangling from the ceiling will bring jose eber to my tresses’ rescue with the latest in styling products and techniques. all the while, soft instrumental music is soothing my harried soul as it emanates from a camoflauged dolby 5.1 surround sound system.
yes, i need my own bathroom.