[ WP ] Wright a story from the view of an inanimate object .

I ’ ve seen things, man. Horrible things. You can ’ t even fathom the varying levels of hell I go through every day. Of course, that implies that you ’ ve even considered the idea that I might object to this fate I ’ ve been given. But I doubt it. That ’ s not just flagrant self-pity, that ’ s truth, my friend. 
 
 The fact of the matter is, no one really cares about the psychiatric state the Walmart toilet. 
 
 I guess I would try to repress reality too if part of my daily routine was pressing my warm, fleshy tooshie against someone ’ s face and lettin' her rip. 
 
 It's what I was made to do, but is it too much to ask for a little consideration? A quick “ Hi, how are you ” before desperately clawing to free your nethers as you do the really- got ta -pee-Pants-Dance or even maybe some aim would be nice. 
 
 And my god, the complaints from you people. Like *I ’ m* the gross one. Yeah, that ’ s pee on the floor. Did I put it there? No. And yes, I know my seat isn ’ t as clean as it used to be. Rubbing it in really helps. So does squatting over me like a sumo-wrestler. Never mind that the stallion-sized piss you ’ re taking is making more mist than Niagara Falls, your ass is safe from the oddly comforting residual warmth from the butt of another. 
 
 The worst is you non-flushers. You ’ re the real assholes. I should know, I ’ ve seen a lot of them. Did no one love you growing up? Is that why you do these things? “ There ’ s got to be so many germs on that handle, ” you squeal, all of a sudden concerned about health and safety. Bitch, I just saw your *vagina*, and if anyone should be concerned about germs, it ’ s me. 
 
 But seriously, you should probably get that checked out. 

