I understand that everybody poops. I am fully aware that it’s a biological necessity. I will even admit that there’s something sort of beautiful and miraculous about having a body that, after evolving for millions of years, has figured out how to process food into fuel as well as rid itself of the remaining waste. But I also think the act of sitting (or squatting, as I’ve been told to do by Shark Tank), squeezing out foul-smelling waste, and then wiping up with toilet paper is (I can’t think of a better word than this, so I’m just going to use it) gross.
It’s easy to ignore the gross factor when you’re the one pooping because the act, disgusting as it may be, is part of your daily (if you’re lucky) routine: you poop, you wipe, you flush, you forget about it. But what if you were watching other people poop, day in and day out? Wouldn’t that be torture? Wouldn’t that be one of the most miserable non-violent existences you can imagine? Quilted Northern seems to think so. Their new campaign “Designed To Be Forgotten” is all about those who’ve been sentenced to live in the prison found in all homes: the bathroom.
Each spot concerns a decorative figurine or photo who, because they’ve been placed in a bathroom facing the toilet, must watch people poop—and wipe!—forever. Quilted Northern, the spots claim, “works so well [that the poopers] completely forget their experience,” while the poor, pitiful figurines “see all and forget nothing.”
Here’s one about an old photo of “Great Grandpa Thaddeus” who hates hates hates watching his great grandchildren defecate:
And here’s about a toilet paper dispenser named “Sir Froggy” who has one of the worst viewing angles of all:
But don’t forget the suicidal Little Miss Puffytail, who’d rather be smashed into a million pieces than watch one more butt poop and wipe.
The spots, with their simple framing and gentle music, never say the word “feces.” They don’t dare call out poop explicitly. They even have the good sense not to mention leftover flakes or butts so dirty they couldn’t get past the TSA like those idiot bears over in Charmin’s nightmare forest. But they are still gross. They are as gross as pooping itself.
I do not want commercials to remind me of how gross we all are once or twice a day (again, if we’re lucky), I just want to poop in private with toilet paper that’s soft and not expensive and never have to worry that the souvenir Big Ben rubber duck I keep in the bathroom wants to kill himself.
And that’s why I’ll be sticking with Charmin. At least those bears aren’t suicidal.
Image via Quilted Northern.
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