I'm not in New York City right now. I'm at my parents' house. Upstate. Where it's cold. Because it's Passover, assholes, that's why. Don't you fucking judge me. And look, unlike most of your reprobates, I've got a good relationship with my parents, so that's not why I'm writing this, thank you very much. But something is wrong here, and I've got to stand up and say it, because I'm that kind of guy, and unfortunately this is the only national forum that will allow me to air my grievance. I'm not Rob Lowe, OK? Arianna's not on my speed dial. No more of that, there's a serious problem here: My parents have awful taste in toilet paper.

Mom. Pop. I'm sorry to expose you like this, here on national Internet, but you raised me to a certain standard of truth telling, and I'm telling it. Your toilet paper sucks. It's thin, it's coarse, and the perforations are not nearly perforated enough. You try to rip off a sheet and half, and another sheet comes with it. It's disgraceful. It's disgusting. It's detrimental to my rectum.

Honestly, I don't believe in much, but I believe that when a material is going to be that intimate with my anus, it ought to be something goddamn special. Something quilted, soft but sturdy, with multiple plies. Toilet paper to be proud of. Toilet paper that you could use as wrapping paper and not be ashamed. That's what should be our standard, people. I don't care that we're in a damn recession, that's no fucking reason to skimp where our assholes are concerned. Our assholes need our financial support.

And speaking of which, isn't it time to bail out the airlines again?

But back to the subject at hand. Mom. Pop. I hope you read this, and I hope it changes your hard-hearted toilet paper-hating minds. It's unacceptable. This is not toilet paper. This paper would feel at home in a fax machine. Get on the ball.