I chose to write this about a toilet because it provided fertile ground for the injection of a little humour. I tried (and mostly failed) to adopt a southern twang when I recorded it because I thought it fit the subject best. Hopefully it isn't too cringey.

'Everything's Alive' Style Story Text:

Ah…ah….is this thing on. Sorry, I…uh…ain’t got much experience….er any experience really, recording things. I hope I’m doin’ alright. 
 

So yeah, uh, I’m Brian, and I’m a, uh… eh toilet.  I consider myself uh…..a porcelain waste receptacle,…..an American Standard, porcelain waste receptacle in fact,….. but I know what y’all all call me…so, uh, yeah. We’ll just go with that.
 

Didn’t know we could talk, did ya? Huh.
 

There’s a lot y’all don’t know. 
 

I bet if you did know you’d act different. My God the things we see. Wooowee!
 

That’s kinda why we don’t usually talk. ‘cuz people get real spooked by it and then we end up in the trash. I tried sparkin’ up a conversation once with this guy who was using me, an he just screamed and ran out with his pants around his ankles. It was pretty funny I guess, but that was a close one for me. Most of us receptable—uh…toilets would get replaced after sumthin like that, but I was lucky. I dunno ezacly what happened, but I heard sirens and I aint never seen that guy again, so maybe he called the police? I dunno. 
 

Anyway, this is about me.
 

I’m giving this here talk ‘cuz I gotta few things to get off my….uh…lid. 
 

First, y’all don’t ‘preciate us enough. Can you imagine what yall lives would look like if ya didn’t have us? My Grand-papey was an outhouse and he used to tell us stories, yes siree, and none of ‘em were good. One time this little girl full on fell in and nearly drowned! Can you imagine!? Luckily her Aunt reckoned she’d been gone too long and found her afore somethin’ bad happened….er worse, anyway. So as I was sayin’ y’all don’t 'preciate us enough. Half of ya never, eeeever clean us….and the other half is so grossed out by us that they treat us like we’re radioactive! Always smotherin’ us in disinfectant and making us stink like bleach to high heaven. And since we’re on the subject, just to clarify, the only radioactive thing in us is what we get....from.... you!....

Anyway, as I was sayin, it’s always one of the other. Outright negligence or death by 1000 scrub brushes. Can’t y’all find a middle ground? Like, rinse us with some warm water once every few days or something? I dunno. It’s just hard getting ignored or smother all the time, with no other options…
 

Secondly, would y’all stop fightin’ over how to use us? More toilets die of the stress caused by listening to couples argue over how to use them than by any other cause, didja know that? Up, down, who cares? Just be civil, or leave well enough alone, will yeah? Or don’t, I don’t care. Just stop fighting in earshot of us. 
 

And another thing, why do y’all sit on us backwards? It’s like you never took a second to look at us and figure out the way that makes the most sense! You wanna sit with your nether-regions exposed and nothin’ to do? Dear doody almighty... anyone with half a brain can see you’re supposed to sit facing the flat part, like a table, so you can read or what have you while yer doin yer business. Come on. Fer that matter, If you read it outload we can both enjoy it.

 

Anyway, that’s all I got to say. Give us a little thought will ya, or we ain’t gonna take your ..uh....you know what.. no more!

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References
 

Kelley, L. (2021). Actually, QR Codes Never Went Away. The New York Times.