Check the bog roll to see into a man’s soul

How people manage the toilet roll in their homes is a good indicator of their personality.

I’ve developed an obsessive compulsive disorder around the white paper cylinders in my khasi – there are about 15 right now. Even when I’m nowhere near finishing a pack, I’ll buy another.

For this reason I am acutely aware of what other people do with theirs – like the OAPS who place knitted covers over them as if to avert the risk of toilet users being horrified at their presence atop the cistern.

I was at a friend’s house in St Dunstan’s the other day and discovered kitchen roll jutting unattractively off the toilet roll holder. This middle-aged man is unable to organise his life in such a way as to ensure that he has enough paper.

But the most egregious example of bog roll deficiency came from a bloke on my course at university in Manchester. He and his brother, who were always spliffed out on cannaboids, never had any loo roll in the toilet.

I later learned that this pair of idle hippies in fact kept personal stashes in their bedrooms so that the supply was never exhausted by the other – or a guest in their house.

Question: What’s the best thing anyone has ever done with toilet paper?

Answer: Throwing whole rolls of it on to the pitch after a goal in the 1980s in the days of the old First Division.

Comedian Karl Pilkington on the purchasing of toilet paper: “You can’t go into a shop and just buy bog roll. It makes you look desperate.”

Those people who opposed the creation of the beach volleyball court at Victoria Rec a few years back were absolutely right that no one would use it for this sport, which is very popular in Brazil.

I’ve driven past a dozen times in the last week and not seen a soul on it.

The truth lies here…