In case you're wondering what bathroom humor has to do with SUBWAY, cut me some slack, because (excuse me while I go pee---actually, not this time. This time, excuse me while I copy and paste in the official "because").

Okay! Are you ready for the official "because" or not?

Well--ready or not--here it is:

This review is part of the Hard_to_Please Love Fest, organized by diverpam, for our friend Mark (Hard_to_Please) who was recently diagnosed with advanced cancer. All funds raised this write-off will be donated to Mark to help defray some of his expenses.

Although Mark has his own wonderfully unique style we are each attempting to honor him by writing in our best Hard_to_Please fashion. We hope you will enjoy the entries.

All right! Knowing this, let's not have any of that NH nonsense, OK?

Warning: If you're tempted to give this anything less than a Most Helpful, I will personally look you up and give you a good watering--and my watering can will be my bladder! jk

Seriously, try to be kind!

This really IS a review of one of my favorite places to feed my face with what will, eventually, (in part) be deposited in some toilet (or, in the case of recycled lemonade and other liquid matter, either in some toilet or else in some secluded roadside area, cemetery, closed business, my panties, etc.).

Without further a-doo, on with the review. . .

One more thing. . .be warned that this innocent, little SUBWAY review will lead into one of the strangest toilet tales you've ever read, because I just so happen to have one of the strangest hobbies, which I'll be sharing with you here.

Anyway, SUBWAY isn't just for those times when your bladder is screaming bloody murder and you need a nice, clean place to let it all out.

However, I must say that I've used it for that in these Hoosier towns/cities: Spencer, Indianapolis. and, at least a couple more.

Want to know something?

I never leave there without buying something--and it isn't just because I'm grateful to have used the facilities. It's because it all looks soooooooooooooo good! I have even been on my way to eat at another restaurant and end up eating there either instead of or along with the other restaurant.

How can I best describe SUBWAY?

One way would be to take you to their website and let you see for yourself what they're all about. Here's the URL for that:

http://www.subway.com

I could stop this review right here, because I've really given you all of the information you need, as this is a very informative, easy-to-read, and fun-to-read website.

But I'm not going to stop, because I know that you want to read about MY personal experiences with SUBWAY.

Even if you didn't, stopping me now would be like my trying to stop my pee flow when it's 29 degrees Farenheit outside, and I've been walking for more than a few yards within an hour after downing three tall glasses of lemonade/iced tea/water/all of those.

You see, I'm on a roll--that's roll, just like a form of bread or a quantity of toilet-paper.

The actual submarine sandwiches come in two sizes: six-inch (as in average penis size--or so I've been told) and twelve-inch (as in a size that's even better-than-average when it comes to a unit of poop and is--more likely than not--a male delusion-of-grandeur if you would happen to experience such a Martian describing his love tool that way).

SUBWAY even offers seven (last count) of its sandwiches in what it calls (I kid you not) "Under Six."

With my mind still in the gutter from my previous paragraph, you KNOW what the first thing that popped into my mind was. Clue for the clueless: It has to do with men!

Actually, these items--made up of a choice of seven sandwich material replicas of the 6" and 12" variety and served on hamburger buns--are also ideal for when you're treating someone who is under six years old and might be overwhelmed by the size of the standard subs.

Another good use for them is as a weight-loss aid (or, at least, in helping to maintain the status quo). How do they work? If you want to lose weight, get that size of sandwich and only eat one. If you want to at least maintain the status quo, you can order two or three of those when you're having a hard time making up your mind re: which kind of sandwich to order. Get two or three different kinds in this size instead of two or three different kinds in a six or twelve inch variety.

On a more serious note, there are people who have actually lost weight by eating a steady diet of SUBWAY sandwiches, and you can find more information about this at the official SUBWAY website--which I've provided for you earlier on.

Guess what else you can find there. Entertainment information. It just so happens that one of the items of entertainment being featured is a movie called The Musketeer, which stars my second cousin's son, Justin Chambers. Justin was also on EXTRA yesterday evening. Did any of you catch him?

It was a very good spotlighting of him--but nothing was mentioned about his bathroom habits. However, if he becomes famous enough, I imagine that will be speculated on here and there, as has been done in the case of (among others) Brad Pitt, Cher, Madonna, and The Backstreet Boys.

Back to those Under 6 sandwiches.

While my folks and I mostly get the six-inch subs, we have been known to have in-car picnics with the smaller variety (which I generally call "cutie-subs").

During a recent holiday season, we were out and about looking at Christmas lights when we saw a really stunning exhibit in the Plainfield area. It just so happened that we were also hungry and a SUBWAY was right across from the display.

So I went in, got all of us some drinks, cutie-subs, chips (multi-grain, not cow), and tastes-a-lot-like-your-mother-or-grandma-made-them cookies. After that, we turned the car in the direction of the beautiful lights and enjoyed them while we were eating.

I can't begin to count the number of times I've sat right here at this computer while giving all of my tastebuds multiple orgasms caused by the insertion of a six-inch sub! A very oral and gratifying experience!!!

Though not often, there have even been times in my life when I've felt extra-daring and have taken in twelve inches!!!

Usually, I get the turkey club sub for such an occasion (Don't let the name fool you, it also has beef and ham on it), but I've just asked my mother to bring me another type of sub for this occasion. I didn't even think about how ornery it sounded at the time I ordered it.

Actually, I was thinking about wondering what this would taste like with the addition of cucumbers--a relatively-new choice you can get when having your sandwich fixed your way (The Burger Man-On-The-Throne isn't the only one to offer such a luxury).

But the thought has just struck me that this compound word describing the sandwich I ordered consists of a couple of ornery words: meat & ball.

What more can I say about SUBWAY? Lots more and all of it delicious!!!

But I want to get on with telling you about how a new interest in an old hobby has been renewed.

One day, I was down in Indianapolis planning on shopping at my favorite Fashion Bug Plus location out in a shopping center on Kentucky Street.

My original plans were to shop first and then eat somewhere.

However, my bladder got into a screaming mood, so I decided I'd better pull into this SUBWAY that was located in this older building. At the time, my bladder was so mind-consuming that I didn't even notice that it wasn't a new building.

Then, I went to use the toilet, and what did I see? An antique toilet-flusher (a.k.a. flush-handle or lever)!!!

Now, I'm not talking about the REALLY ancient chain-type. I'm talking about the kind that was common to see when traveling and stopping at a filling station, restaurant, motel, etc. when I was a pre-schooler.

This one had a kind of cubism style to it--where all of its parts were chunky in a sort of cubic way. Not only that, but age had tarnished it so that its original silver color had turned into a kind of muddy gold.

I went up to the counter and asked the clerk if this had been a filling station before it had been a SUBWAY. He told me that he didn't think so, but that he believed that it had been a bar and grill at one time.

When I told him that you can tell a lot about the age of a building by its toilets and toilet-flushers (unless they had been replaced over the years by newer models), he gave me sort of a "Hmmmmmm. . ." look.

Anyway, the food looked so good that I had to order something. At first, I was just going to get some cookies and lemonade (the latter to produce more peeing experiences--besides, it tastes delicious), but I broke down and ordered a sandwich as well.

Recently, I went back there again to use the bathroom (very necessary) and to gather some more information on my way to the Fashion Bug Plus once more. I had my camera in the car with me to take a picture of the flusher, but my bladder was outscreaming James Brown, so I used all of my energy and concentration just to get in there and plop myself down on the toilet.

After which I ordered a picnic meal of a sandwich, chips, and a cookie (I'd brought my own bottle of Club Soda with me, so I didn't get a drink this time around) to eat in the shopping center parking lot before going into Fashion Bug Plus to buy socks and sneakers.

I also found out that there was a corner stone at the front of the building (which housed a pet hospital) that would tell when it was built. The lady behind the counter and a cop who had come in for a healthier alternative to donuts both thought it had been built in 1954.

When I went to look at the cornerstone (actually, high up on the building and not on a corner, either), I found out that the building, like myself, was a 1952 model. It was even a female, having been named Mary Jane. That's right! The cornerstone said Mary Jane 1952.

Anyway, I'm back to being a toilet-inspector again.

I've been trying to find information on the Internet re: the first flush-toilets I've heard that they were in Cathay at the time that Marco Polo and his son landed there--and that Christopher Columbus was actually looking for them a century or so later when he landed in South America by mistake. Oh sure! He claimed that he was looking for gold and precious gems, but we all know that he actually shared my fascination with toilet-flushers!

Some people have accused me of having an obsession with 29th_Candidate--and I can't very well deny that!

However, even THIS obsession pales in comparison to the one I had during the time between the ages of 4 and 7 when it came to toilet-flushers.

At the early end of this obsession, it had suddenly occurred to me that not all toilet-flushers looked alike. Having three bathrooms at home--each with a different style of flusher--might have had something to do with it. Using the bathroom at the homes of friends/relatives and in public places confirmed it.

No, I didn't grow up in a home where there were three different photos of 29th_Candidate and other photos of him in homes and businesses we visited, so I have no idea where THAT obsession came from!

There was this one kind of flusher that could be found in our downstairs bathroom, at my grandparents' when they owned a farmhouse in Kentucky, and in Miss Ann's dancing school (where I didn't last very long as a student--and I'll now put in a sidebar explaining why).

SIDEBAR:

When I was four years old, my folks asked me how I'd like to learn to tap-dance. I was all game for that!

We went to a dance school owned and operated by Ann Harmeson (later, Ann Harmeson-Hardacre) who is, to this day, affectionately known as Miss Ann by her students, former students, and (like myself) very temporary students.

One of the first things I did as soon as I could was to inspect the toilets. Of course, you had to actually need to go to the toilet in order to enter one. But I managed to find a way into both of them (there were two) eventually without actually having to go. With the toilet obviously empty after my visits there, I told Miss Ann that I'd done some "pale pee-pee."

I got a good shaking for that. At first, I thought I was being shaken for telling a little white lie, but it was because I had said the word "pee-pee." Actually, at that time, this was the only word I knew for it.

At one point, I told this little boy who had to use the bathroom that there was an Indian sitting on the toilet that he was about to use. Miss Ann had no idea what I was talking about, but she wanted to change the subject from toilets to something else, so she started talking about this wooden Indian standing in front of a local dime store. I had no idea she was trying to change the subject, but I realize that now. I told her that the Indian was sitting on the toilet--she told me that it was time to forget about the Indians and get back to dancing.

And what was I talking about?

The flusher, of course! What else? 29th_Candidate!?!

This style of flusher reminded me of the Chief Pontiac logo on our car. The middle part was his face; the part around the middle was his war-bonnet; and the handle was his long tail of feathers.

Believe it or not, though, it wasn't my toilet-inspecting that finally ended my tap-dancing career.

We had this time in our class where we would pretend to be somebody or something in time to the music.

One day, we were asked to pretend to be dogs and rabbits.

I was to be one of the dogs, and Miss Ann became one of the rabbits.

The pianist began playing a lively tune, and the chase was on!

I caught up with Miss Ann and bit her on the butt!

Poor Miss Ann!!! She was so embarrassed--due to the location of the bite (which neither broke the skin nor caused rabies)--that she had her mother to call my mother to tell her what I'd done.

This--along with the assortment of other antics I'd pulled while there--had brought both Miss Ann and her mother to the conclusion that I might not be mature enough for dance school.

But all wasn't a loss.

I still had my cute, little Mary Janes with the taps on the bottom where I could do the only dance step I'd learned in my brief time there: heel-step-toe. . .heel-step-toe. . .

AND I fine-tuned my stalking tendencies for later use!

Years later, Miss Ann and I would laugh about my dancing school antics, and she would remember me as being "such a creative child."

I wonder if that was how she saw me back then--or if she found me to be merely a pain-in-the-butt!!!

Maybe, I just have a way of growing on people over time--like shower mold!

Back to my toilet-inspecting. . .

As many of you know, Uncle Kermit (now retired and living in Bloomington, Indiana--which he refers to as "the center of the universe") ended up teaching at Texas Tech University from 1976 until he retired.

Did any of you ever have a Dr. Evan K. Jobe for a professor many years ago--either at Texas Tech or else at one of his temporary positions (filling in for ill or otherwise missing professors) at Iowa State University and University Of Michican (Ann Arbor)? Or a Mr. Jobe (before he got doctored up) at University of Kentucky?

Another question: Any of you know--or are--a Winfield Schoolcraft or Debbie Goff with Biloxi ties?

Because he worked his way towards getting it, he didn't receive his PhD until 1973. For many years, he lived in Biloxi, Mississippi and worked at Kessler Air Force Base doing civil service.

He would often return to Biloxi for a mini-vacation shortly after the new year began, and we joined him there on at least a couple of occasions.

One year we joined him was in 1988. During that time, we went out for pizza with friends of his: Eddie Alley and Tom & Mary McGraff.

Now, Eddie was (and is) someone we saw and heard from on a fairly regular basis. But we hadn't seen the McGraffs in years.

But Mary remembered me right off. "Oh, I remember you! When you were a little girl, you came to our house, and the first thing you wanted to do was to go look at our bathroom!"

I explained to her that it wasn't just the bathroom in general but the toilet-flusher. I also added that the toilets in Geno's (where we were eating) had very unusual stalls around them, in case she wanted to join me to take a look. She was game for that.

One time while visiting relatives in Kentucky, we all decided to go to Beech Bend Park in Bowling Green.

We went to use the rest room, and was I ever thrilled!!

Usually, in a multi-stalled restroom, there were just these tankless toilets with plain lever flushers. But I opened the door to one toilet and found one with a tank and an interesting-looking flusher.

The thought that there were two more waiting for me in one place thrilled me beyond-reason!

Was I ever disappointed to discover that all three flushers looked exactly alike! What a rip-off!!!

Like most obsessions, this one eventually went by the wayside for the most part (think of how much closer to Anderson that Indianapolis is compared to Los Angeles), but do these obsessions ever completely go away? Or do they remain dormant to be brought out for special occasions or at a later time in life?

Do you have a vision of a 90 year old man moving his wheelchair as fast as he can because a 100 year old lady is reving hers up to roll after him?

Well! While I can't predict the future in the case of these ornery oldsters, I can say that the obsession about the toilet-flushers has never really left me!

When I was in high school (senior year), I was dating a guy named Gary. On (or around) Valentine's Day in 1971, we went to this quaint, little restaurant in the little village of Homer.

This restaurant (no longer in business) was in a family's home, and the restrooms (which the family actually used as their own) were upstairs.

When I went to the ladies' room (there were two restrooms--with at least one of them having a bathtub, too--with signs indicating which one was which), I noticed that the flusher was the pull-chain kind.

After I was done, I told Gary that he simply HAD to come up and check out the restrooms!

Since we were the only ones up there, we got to look at each others' restrooms. His had another style of flusher in it, and there was a sign there instructing users to hold it down and count to ten in order for it to completely flush. For some reason, we both thought that was pretty funny.

But my flusher-obsession has now returned. It isn't like it was when I was a kid, but, after my experience at the Kentucky Avenue SUBWAY, I've started to take more than a passive interest in this hobby again.

In fact--when I become a member of a new website, and they ask me to check my personal interests (note: This means what kinds of subjects do I want to get e-mail regarding, so I've learned to select only a few, although many more interest me to one degree or another)--I'm starting to wonder why website registration sections never list toilet-flushers in the interest/hobby section!


So you think that what you've just read is ridiculous/insane/naughty/weird/all of the previous options, huh? Well, keep on reading, 'cos you ain't seen nothing yet!!!

Other members/soon-to-be members/NOT-so-soon-to-be members of the cuckoo's nest are as follows:

jankp, jkkelley,29th Candidate (You think so this time? If so, WHEN!?!), Sunkah, Dr_Steph, bwyckoff1, jo.com,
AinsleyJo, Lady Cynic, frazzledspice, mcmaster,  roxymarie, LordAngel,  
sherrylee,  brendametcalf, pambo, NoMattrWht, Sordid-1, nwinston, 
SLOW, Suzer, Biggs219, melissasrn, MattJoe, ifif1938, DiverPam,
GinaHill, grandgram, Hikini, pogomom, bops_mom, purplewiz, movielover123,
repulsemonkey, Redhotleigh, gonow, hypotenuse, blackcat2, mkp51, Kevlog,
flamepillar, PSobel, Taurusmoon, nathsmom, daddieo, Zenhues, cldoss, 2buzy,
Lizf, gransurfer1, Deaser26, Auldbawl1, Michiman1, prfstars, BARNZ, fransbebe,
Granniemose, ggrimes1221, ginzo, eplovejoy, michealhead, Arthur.Rubin, lisa_j,
cripper, Hadassahchana, teddiec, mtbat, momsworkinlate

Plus a few more:

viper1963
dragonfire88
Linda1527
jgibson2
Pamelita3099
MaryTara
msmorvay

And, in order not to miss anyone, take a ride on this URL as well:

http://interlinediscounts.com/writeoff.htm

I'm also assuming that you can still crash this party. Why not check with DiverPam and see!?!

Have a great day--and don't forget to take a closer look at people, flowers, sunrises, sunsets, and toilet-flushers!















Recommended: Yes