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Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer
By braving soggy undies, by far it is tougher.
But that dread of something with which I take issue
The undiscover’d truth- thou art without tissue
Islam requires the washing of your bottom
But alas, no tissues! If I’d only brought’em!
To grunt and sweat under forceful nature’s effluence
Then wash with one’s hand is Saudis toileting preference
I am sicklied o’er the thought of just using
My lovely left hand, it na’er requires musing
This despis’d custom turns my expression awry.
If only TP to wipe, perchance to dry.
To refuse using tissue, methinks you’re not pious
The reality is, you’ve revealed your true bias.
Your claim that its use imitates the kuffar
Is completely unlike driving your western-made car.
Or your wife, beautied with a plast’ring art
Her and her Sephora must be pried apart?
And your children’s addiction to video-gaming
Is not due to the toilet paper you’re blaming.
Muslims can wipe, wash, and then dry their toosh
And it helps to prevent the dred’d yeasty bush
So if only to avoid your guests throwing a fit
Go buy some TP so our hands don’t touch s**t.