My Great-Uncle Jack used to tell a story about a man called Claude Robinson who owned a small grocery shop in Strabane, Co. Tyrone.
One day a toothpaste rep came into the store to peddle his wares. Halfway through his sales pitch, Claude cut him off and told him to follow him. He led him into the store room, and gestured towards shelves packed full with unsold toilet paper. Then he opened a closet door to reveal that it, too, was packed full with toilet paper.
“Mr Robinson, you misunderstand me” argued the sales rep, “I’m not here to sell you toilet paper. I’m here to sell toothpaste”.
“If they won’t wipe their arse do you think they’ll clean their teeth?”