This is an article that appeared in the Birmingham News some time back.  I 
thought anyone who has visited Europe could appreciate it (and use a laugh 
before facing finals).

The first things I did when I returned to the free world after two weeks in 
the Soviet Union was to find a water cooler and drink heartily from it. I 
never located a single water cooler in the Soviet Union during my visit. 

After that, I found myself a restroom.  I'm not certain of the figures, but 
I would guess there is something like one public restroom for every 250,000 
citizens in the Soviet Union.

And none have toilet paper.  You show me a country short on toilets and 
with no toilet paper for the public, and I will show you a country that is 
still a long way from world dominance.

There was toilet paper in my hotel rooms in the Soviet Union but you can't 
just sit in your hotel room clinging to your toilet paper like a security 
blanket.

You have to go outside sometime and even if you take some of the hotel 
toilet paper with you, comfort is still not guaranteed.

The Soviets make toilet paper, paper cups and ice cream cones from the same 
grade of paper.

Coffee drips through the bottom of a cup in about 13 seconds.  Soviet ice 
cream cones taste like the sports section of the Cleveland Plain Dealer and 
a person could so severely injure himself or herself with extended use of 
Soviet toilet paper that all the Preparation H on earth wouldn't help.

The Soviet Union doesn't work.  On the outside, it looks like it works, and 
guides are quick to point foreign visitors toward what they think will be 
impressive to them, but the facades are simply too thin.

It looks like somebody in this country could grow a few decent fruits and 
vegetables.  The can't.  The apples are small and bruised and wormy.  The 
carrots are bitter.  I never did find an orange.  I'll never eat another 
cucumber.

I didn't see many dogs in the Soviet Union.  It's hard enough to keep 
yourself fed. There are 4.5 million people in Leningrad.  There are seven 
gasoline stations.

The way you get a drink of water away from home in the Soviet Union is you 
put three kopecks into a vending machine and it fills a glass of water.  
The next guy drinks out of the same glass.

This is a land of frustrating inconvenience, and of manic addiction to 
rules.  A member of our group, the Friendship Force, went down to the lobby 
of her hotel and complained there was no phone in her room.  "Of course, 
there is a phone," replied the hotel clerk, Svetlana, tugging nervously at 
her beard. "Why are you so certain?" asked the American. "Because if is 
against the rules not to have a phone in your room."

Two weeks in the Soviet Union was plenty for me.  Probably for a lifetime.

Lufthansa got us out of Moscow and back to Frankfurt.  The moment the jet's 
landing gear lifted off the runway of Moscow, the American on board broke 
into spontaneous applause.

What I plan to do when I get all the way back to the United States is sit 
around for a couple of weeks squeezing Charmin.

God bless America.

That's it, hope it brought a smile your way.  Speaking for those of us who 
spent three years across the water, we classified the toilet paper into three 
types:  crepe paper, wax paper, and sand paper.  If you've been, you 
understand.