Thomas Crapper (1837 to 1910) is credited (falsely) with the now not-so-modern, modern-day toilet, often called 'the crapper' in his honor. We pay homage to his achievement about twenty minutes each day - that's one hundred and twenty hours a year, or one full year out of a seventy-three-year life, not including the time spent using trees, chamber pots, and outhouses.

Not wanting to let a year of life pass idly down the drain, most people take to reading when perched on the throne. Usually they turn to something short and pithy; something more humorous than serious; something that won't overload the head.

This collection of short stories, essays, anecdotes, and diatribes is intended to serve as a commode companion to water-closet literati. The pieces are largely autobiographical and satirical - themselves a product of commode contemplations. Most are of a length suitable for a single sitting, but there are longer and shorter pieces to help cope with those unavoidable exigencies that bedevil us all from time to time.

We suggest that some of these pieces be read aloud, but please remember to keep the door closed.