Tag Archives: poop

Fuzz … part 4.

.

Have you ever seriously thought about dung? I can’t say I have, but clearly someone is taking note.

.

.

Counting poop pellets? Well, everyone needs a hobby.

.

.

I only have one word for that revelation….

Wow.

.

.

While this graphic of weaponized coconuts is disturbing, one has to wonder why the cartoon father has grabbed mom, stolen junior’s lollipop and left junior to fend for himself.

.

.

I know age has widened my circumference. I feel ya tree.

.

.

Frass. A great word, but as any serious Scrabble player knows…. not worth wasting two S’s. I shall instead whip kerf out on my unsuspecting husband this weekend. K and F? Now you’re talking.

.

Bombarded by poo.

.

In the continuing saga of my immersion into the myriad world of excrement, my television has now jumped on board.

Geesh… you review one book, write a few posts about the digestive tract and suddenly your world is filled with doo doo.

Poo on my FB reader.

Poo on my news feed.

Now?

.

.

My DVR recorded the latest episode of Nova and of course, it’s all about poo.

Thankfully there was a segment of the program devoted to my beloved wombat and his delightfully cubed shaped dung so it wasn’t a total loss.

.

.

I mean really, what’s cuter than that?

But cuddly wombat aside, it does make me wonder where the next batch of excrement will pop up in my life.

.

.

I certainly hope not. But at this point it wouldn’t surprise me..

.

Ball tax… and other nonsense.

.

Yes, it’s true.

The Maine state government has finally gotten around to taxing your dog’s balls.

.

.

Beware “fully equipped” friends.

You could be next.

.

.

I had to do a double take on this one. Although holiday poop gift ideas wouldn’t be an odd addition to my news feed at this point… that’s actually actually a shrimp poop removing tool.

And who doesn’t want to find one of those in their stocking Christmas morning?

.

.

2020 is my husband.

While I carry a washable cloth mask in my purse, he uses those blue paper things and I find them hanging everywhere. Rear view mirror, stick shift, hat rack, door knobs etc.

Sanitary it’s not.

.

Oddities.

.

A friend sent me this picture of a beverage she saw in the grocery store the other day.

.

.

She said she saw it and thought of me.

Busty Lush.

I’m not sure if I should be offended… or flattered she knows me so well.

I thought about buying some, but when I saw the non alcoholic label, I figured… why bother?

.

.

It’s back?

I don’t remember goat poop ever disappearing.

.

.

I can think of numerous other ways to say Happy Holidays besides the gift of livestock dung, but maybe that’s just me.

And what’s with “Artisan” goat poop?

Is there some Jackson Pollack spattering going on or what?

.

I love my town.

.

Cruising my small town’s Facebook page today, I discovered an invitation.

.

.

I wonder if adults are allowed?

.

.

I do love a good goat encounter.

.

.

We’ve had a lot of mushrooms lately, but never one with dead tribble hair.

.

.

Teachers. They educate our children and at times, take on the role of surrogate parents.

Scooping poop should not be part of their job description.

.

Christmas in July?

.

Some years, if we’re not traveling… we spend Christmas Day with friends. They tend to have less emotional baggage than family, and are generally a lot more fun. Of course last year, Covid ruined everything about the holidays and we neither traveled nor made merry with friends. Boo to global pandemics! They’re such a buzz kill.

Our friends, being fun loving (as well as gift greedy) have decided to celebrate 2020’s lost holiday in July. (It will be a barbecue/pool party at our friend’s newly purchased house/horse farm/how the Hell is a 50 something single woman going to take care of this huge spread by herself.)

.

.

.

We’ve been invited and encouraged to get into the Christmas in July spirit…. so naturally I will be wearing this:

.

.

Because nothing says Ho! Ho! Ho! like Santa in a mankini.

I will also be bringing this:

.

.

A Covid themed piñata, so we can all take our frustrations over the past year out on something other than our spouses.

.

.

Yes. To all of that. And I won’t be filling it with candy, no. In honor of the shit show that was 2020 I will fill it with these:

.

.

What are those you ask? Only the perfect gift to give your friends in case certain items become hard to find again.

.

.

Portable toilet paper! Am I a genius or what?

.

And to further get into the Christmas spirit? I’ve purchased this 2020 totally went down the drain themed tree.

.

.

I did not however purchase the accompanying ornaments.

.

.

Tree turd danglers?

No.

.

.

Definitely, no.

.

Worst. Dog. Toy. Ever.

.

In fairness to my dog loving readers who must cringe at the plethora of cat posts on my page … here’s one for you.

.

.

Wondering what your next birthday or Christmas gift to Fido should be?

.

.

Mr. Poops. Because you can never go wrong with a morose black turd.

.

.

No need to thank me. The thought of Mr. Poop happily squeaking his way through your house is all the gratitude I need.

.

I love my town…

.

You never know what serious news stories will be discussed on my town’s Facebook page. The economy? Yes. Climate change? Sure. But I live in Maine…. so likely as not? It will be this:

.

.

Bear poop beats the G-7 Summit any day.

.

.

The conversation got heated and had to be removed by admin. We take our poo identification seriously up here.

.

.

Now that’s my kind of neighbors.

.

.

Someone is selling peony blossoms for $3 a pop?

.

.

Woot!

I’m going to be rich.

.

.

I’ve read that the cost of rental cars had gone up, but $3,000 for a week?

That’s beyond insane.

.

Things I will never need.

.

There are times when I run across items that beg the question… why?

.

.

Yeah, we’ve all had a crappy year… but squishing plastic rainbow colored excrement isn’t the solution.

.

.

Let me get this straight, good behavior is rewarded with…. poop? New age parenting is truly beyond my comprehension.

.

.

I like wine. I like butter. I do not think I’d like canned butter wine.

.

.

Is it? Is it really….

.

.

.

Just… no. I don’t want my toothpaste dispensed from anyone’s butt, giant green ogre or otherwise.

.