Been to the supermarket lately? No Quiltons left? Before you rage out at those pimpled penis mutha-fucking panic buyers read these devilishly clever diddies for dealing with dot rot.
1: The Worm Burner
This unsettling maneuver derives its origins from the ancient Roman legend of Romulus and his filthy brother Remus, who suckled upon the gelatinous teat of the haggard old Lupus, who taught the children to tear off their rancid ropes by dragging them through tall grass.
Clear your hall way or large living area of small or sharp objects. Lower your shamefully soiled service hatch down onto a thick twist pile carpet.
Grab a hand full of brisket on each side of your trepidatious cheeks and spread em like Pope Francis was in town.
Now for your quiff's sake raise both your stilts and make like Gary Lineker. Keep those hooves up off your disastrous drag rag.
Pull yourself along with your front mittens whilst your tar pit rips a Pro Hart right down your share house hall runner.
Stand up, dress yourself, you're clean.
2: The Muck Monolith
Only practiced by two bonded individuals who have a deep understanding, mutual respect and absolute tolerance of each others macabre meddlings.
Purchase a carpeted cat scratch pole from your local store. Choose a tone that matches your repulsive expulsions to aid in hiding you, your partner and/or flat mate's stinky secret.
Once you have rained down your unholy deliverance, stand, turn 180 degrees and bank down on your suspicious haunches.
Now slowly back up on the pole like a Vegas stripper and grind up and on it like a bear on red wood until your sinful cylinder looks like a bought one.
Before you leave, show English valor and turn that putrid pipe about face in courtesy of the next stench pirate.
3: The Salsa Sling: "Pierre's Folly"
Shocking fashion heavy weights from around the world at the '98 French Fashion Awards, designer Pierre Cardin made infamy when upon finding the stalls were vacant of piece wipe became inconsolably enraged and stormed the center stage declaring "I wipe for I must!". Pierre removed his double pleated, egg shell white, silk satin blend blouse and began to twist the ludicrously expensive fabric into the most sumptuous sling that has ever been glimpsed.
What happened next caused disgust, sorrow and confusion as Pierre dropped his floral Egyptian cotton drawers and whipped the luxurious length through and across his gooch, commencing to drag the doomed rag up and down his muddy mile, raking his dropped pie of a fog funnel until satisfied.
Pierre never worked again but went on to produce what he called "Salsa Slings"for the likes of Elton John and Bert and Peggy Reynolds.
Pierre passed away on the 7th of April 2009. Prior to departing he was quoted, "As for Paris '98, I regret nothing. Why that very night the esteemed Prince Andrew ate a dozen raw oysters from my majestic manhole".
4: Just do it
Look, we're all going to have to suck Coronavirus's, dick, there's no food left in the super-market and medicine is about to disappear, whilst across town in Rikers, Weinstein's blotting his broken pit of petulance with full rolls of fragrant two ply.
What do you owe society? Do it! Shit yourself. Scott did at Engadane Macca's in '98 after the Sharkies lost the grand final, and he went on to be Prime Minister.
Eat at least four to five expired Mrs Mac's tomato and onion servo pies along with four litres of Mother party punch. Then sit back, relax and order your gate keeper to throw them open.
Sit in your tepid pool of filth and shame until you stop crying and cease to care.
Integrity C. Cronkite