Greta Thunberg Should Have to Literally Eat This

I expect a new victory over Social Justice Warriors.

Being dirty is a big part of being a Social Justice Warrior. A lot of their vacuous Hollywood icons (generally white) brag about rarely or never bathing. The SJW’s got our shower heads restricted. They absolutely ruined clothes washers so all new front-loaders make clothes stink of mildew.

Cleanliness is part of white supremacy, even though American black people are generally cleaner than whites. They must be Uncle Toms.

The green goofs have gone after our toilets, too, making sure they flush poorly so we get to spend more time dealing with poo.

When I moved here, this house had three Briggs Vacuity toilets. You would not believe how complex they are. I can’t describe it because I don’t understand it. I can give a couple of details. A Vacuity has an upside-down plastic jug in the tank, with a weird plastic pipe sticking up into it.

A Vacuity uses very little water, which is meaningless to me, because I have a well and a septic tank. Whatever water the toilet uses goes back into my yard and eventually into the water table. I like to think something magical happens to it before it finds its way back to the well, but let’s not discuss that.

The Vacuity toilet is a lot like Al Gore’s curly fluorescent bulbs. It does not work. It makes things worse, not better.

The design is built to fail because there are so many fiddly parts. On top of that, and I just learned this, a Vacuity toilet chokes easily and cannot be plunged. Or snaked. Not kidding here.

If your Vacuity chokes, you’re expected to remove it from the floor and plunge or snake the drain line itself. One guy came up with a plan involving two people, an air compressor, and a towel, and he claims you can plunge the toilet that way, but I’m not going out like that.

Contractors recommend using flimsy toilet paper, and not much of it, when pooping in Vacuity toilets. That’s their solution. It wouldn’t bother me, because I’m a man, and I think Scott toilet paper rocks, but now I have a wife who adores Charmin, so the toilet has COPD.

Oh, I can try the towel trick. I can haul my compressor into the garage and hope for the best. Or I can pay a plumber $350 to fix the can. Or I can get rid of it and put a new one in, for about $260. I’ll never have to deal with it again.

Briggs does not support Vacuity toilets. Not the important, proprietary parts that go bad. That tells you what they think of their own engineering. Briggs is a disgrace to the bowel-movement-movement industry.

Guess what I decided to do.

I ordered a Toto Entrada two-piece john, and the top half arrived yesterday. The bottom half supposedly arrives today.

I replaced my master Vacuity (I make a point of using the word “master” these days) last year. I put in a one-piece Toto Drake. A masterful design, made by slaves to excellence.

Toto makes the best toilets imaginable. They’re Japanese, and the Japanese have a sick fetish about toilet design. They make singing toilets that look like recliners. You can spend Toyota money on a Japanese toilet. Their lower-end sane toilets are great, too. They never break down, and even though they don’t suck much water, they can flush nearly anything. Odd, given the size of the average Japanese.

Some types of green technology eventually work, after two decades or so of horror stories about rushed garbage the government forced on the public before it was ready. Like the current horror stories about washing machines and flaming, subsidized, actually coal-powered Teslas that don’t work in the winter.

I don’t care about the environment, but I don’t mind helping it out when it benefits yours truly. A low-flow toilet takes a shorter time to refill, so you spend less time getting that second round off, when needed.

I’ve had Kohler toilets, which many people recommend. Mine were junk, which is why I know about Toto. The Kohlers failed, and they were designed so stupidly, fixing them was a bad idea.

My Drake cost over $600, which is pretty awful, but that’s because it’s a glamorous one-piece can. They’re cleaner, but they’re more expensive to make and ship, I think. A two-piece has a gap between the tank and bowl, and all kinds of filth and critters can get in there. But you save $400.

I don’t care about the filth and critters. It’s for the guest bath. They’re lucky I don’t make them go outside.

I learned something interesting. Toilets have poo-consumption ratings. They’re called MAX ratings. My new toilet uses very little water, but it has a 1000-gram rating. They measure it using shredded toilet paper mixed with cold peanut butter. Just kidding. They mix some other thing with the paper, but I forget what it is.

If you can manage a kilo, or 2.2 pounds, you’re doing something wrong. That’s Steven Seagal territory. Oprah before drugs.

The old pot is now very clean and virtually empty. Bleached inside out and treated with poo- and urine-eating enzymes. Some of the parts are in the garage. The seat and bidet thing are off. I have to run out and get a foam ring so I can install the new one.

I hope the flange and pipe are lined up better than the last one. I had a wonderful time trying to make the Drake work. I also had to scrape hardened grout off the tiles because that’s what the installer used to shim the bowl. That was stupid. If I have to shim this one, I’ll use pressure-treated wood.

Now my biggest problem is getting the nearest dump to take the toilet. I’m supposed to drive a lot farther. It’s considered construction waste. I’m thinking I’ll bust it with a sledge and put the fragments in boxes. The dump attendants generally don’t care, but I might get a wise guy. I’ve seen them let people throw lawnmower batteries in with regular garbage. Even I felt a hint of disapproval.

Mingled with admiration.

I feel bad about all the dead bodies I’ve run through the band saw and disposed of in bags, but what are you going to do? Leave them in the yard where coyotes can grab them and eat them in front of the neighbors, ruining parties and scaring kids away from their still-intact pinatas?

It’s not like I have a crawlspace.

It’s not my fault. My gate has a sign, and it clearly states, “NO PEDDLERS.”

I’m really hoping I can get rid of this green abomination by dinner time. I don’t want to fight with it for two days, and besides, we all know what happens right after dinner.