Turd Posts...
Many bloggers do them...some do them well. A select few are even called to Mastery. Sometimes they do it just because that was the most significant event in their day. There is a reason why "Look at that shit!" is in the lexicon. Sometimes, one just looks at the latest Nessie they have wrought, serpentine head thrusting proudly from the water, and they just are overcome with a need to proselytize. To share.
I have pondered on this for some time. Why does a pooty little fart generate so much mirth? Why are our eliminations the grist of so many of our comedians mills? Do you suppose a Bangladeshi, up to his neck in sewage from the latest catastrophe to smite his pagan-ass country thinks "Hey! This shit is funny!"? I doubt it.
No, I doubt that gas and ass humor was appreciated much when folks had to wade through rivers of shit...when horses ruled the roadways, and toilets consisted of pans you flung the contents thereof out of your window to the street below. I bet nobody said "Pull my finger!" when their guts were gurgling with the latest bacteria to storm their intestinal walls.
Someone, anthropologically inclined, should do a study of potty humor through the ages. Were I not so lazy, I mayhap could snap on the glove of Google to find several proctological Indiana Jones types have already snaked that particular line.
One way or another, I would bet that the study showed peaks, where potty humor was popular amongst the middle and upper classes, during times of progress, enlightenment, and a strong central government. The lower classes, who live in shit, and struggling peoples in upheaval, do not have the time or the inclination to amuse themselves with their doots and poots.
I bet that it would also be found that nomadic peoples, from Cro Magnon times to the present, have a delightfully rude and crude sense of comedy.
Well, I can hear that my next door neighbor is getting shagged again, tonight. I know that a) her boyfriend is married (fucks for 6 hours and then leaves quickly in a pretty fine Lexus) and b) is on Viagra (see: fucks for 6 hours). You would have to use Viagra to achieve priapacy, as her hindquarters look like a big sackfull of ass...well, with the competitive tan, and the cellulite, it could be a Dali rendering of a burlap bag full of rotten apples. Hey, whatever image floats your love log down the sewage-choaked river, eh?
Hey! Who says you can't blog drunk!
for Gypsy, whose farts I am sure smell like violets...
You must be at least this tall to ride this ride












Monday, August 23, 2004

