Paper products, reviewed.
This feels like a lie to type, but as recently as five days ago I was someone who could use both of her nostrils to breathe. It was wild. When my organs needed oxygen, I’d simply draw in a breath with my lungs and the air would pass through my nose and down my airway, easy breezy. Nowadays, I do a lot of mouth-breathing—sleeping with my jaw slack, watching TV with sparrow face, and occasionally hacking on the mucus lodged at the back of my throat mid-conversation.
All of this is to say that I’ve spent the better part of a week with sinuses sludgier than your college boyfriend’s one-hitter, and I’ve found myself in a fair amount of precarious situations booger-wise. My snot passport includes a vast and varied sampling of regularly available fibers, and I’ve reviewed them for you here, should you ever find yourself in my shoes:
I don’t need to tell you what this is like. You know. Brand-to-brand you’ll see some variance in texture and absorbency, but overall we’re looking at an effective-though-slightly-too-thin format of snot catcher. It’s always a good idea to do your first blow into one half of the tissue, fold it, and then use the second half of the tissue for a second blow in a few minutes. That way your bed or workspace can slowly become a delicate nest of partially-used tissues, awaiting fresh boogers. 8/10—nothing to see here, keep it moving
The kind I used had a quilted diamond pattern, but I’m pretty sure that it had no bearing on the shittiness of this experience. It was as though I was rubbing my skin with a swath of popcorn ceiling. It was as if my nose was being scraped against someone’s dad’s brick patio. How is this, a bleached home paper product, so violent in texture when all of its closest relatives manage to keep it together for the sake of my happiness? I’m pretty sure “Ow,” was my in-the-moment review, and hours later, my raw skin and I stand by the assessment. 1/10 — your boogers get out, but at what cost?
Charmin Toilet Paper
Have you ever had an orgasm? This is less good than that, but after the agony of the paper towel, it’s an homage in terms of relief. I honestly didn’t understand why the pooping bears were always so happy in Charmin commercials, specifically because: whose asscrack is sensitive enough to elicit that much satisfaction from a wipe? But after rubbing this toilet paper upon my parched, exhausted face, I get it. I am the horny poop bear. 10/10—congrats, you’re living it up
My Own Hands
Listen, there are plenty of people out there who will front hardcore like they don’t empty their sinuses into their own hands when they’re alone in the shower, but I’m not one of those people. I excrete. It’s fine. This method is great because you’re breathing in steam and your boogs are all melted and malleable, so it’s a strategically advantageous time to clean the ol’ pipes. Plus you get to rinse all of the byproduct right down the drain then and there. No mess! No paper waste! The only downside is that you still ostensibly have a hygiene routine to complete afterward, which leaves a couple minutes for fresh boogs to drop, which will then melt in the steam and leave you with a runny nose. So my advice would be to do this as many times as you want during your shower, but make sure you do one right before you turn off the water and step out for peak impact. 6/10—fleeting relief is still relief tbh
Have you forgotten the paper towel? My nose hasn’t. Depending upon which relative’s post-holiday kitchen you’re standing in, these may be plentifully available, but I’d still advise you to make the trek to the bathroom to get your hands on the good stuff. In 2017 it is an act of zen to orchestrate a win when you can. 4/10—c’mon man