Nov 29, 2010


Rant of the Week: Stepping in Dog Shit

In my opinion, you're not a real man unless you have at least one "stepped in dog shit" story. I can't tell you exactly when the topic will come up - but it will come up. Maybe you are talking about dogs. Maybe you are talking about poo. Maybe, just maybe, you are talking about pooping dogs. Perhaps someone is telling you about a crappy day they are having and you decide to 1-UP them with your "Oh yeah? Well I stepped in dog shit this morning!" story. It happens. I'm not trying to be gross. It just happens.

I've got two stories. Before I begin, the inspiration for this happened earlier this week when I was returning The Dark Knight to it's owner, Mr. Gregory E. Just about the time I pulled out of the driveway, I noticed a horrible smell. FML. That is... sniff sniff... that is dogshit. I took my shoe off and turned it over to check it out. Clean. Driving down the road, I checked the other one (don't worry, I had cruise control on, and a seatbelt fastened to my chest). I looked at the bottom of the other shoe. Splash 1 Goose. Dogshit. I took the shoe off and drove barefoot to the home of The Man, praying to God that I didn't get dogshit on anything inside the PT.

Stepping in Dog Shit Story #1
When I was in high school, I had a bunk bed/futon. I slept on the top bunk. The bottom bunk was folded into a couch. One morning, I woke up late and sprung up out of my slumber. Instead of climbing down the ladder off the futon, I cannon-balled off the top bunk and landed on my bedroom floor. After all, I was a finely tuned athletic machine at 18 years old, so this wasn't a big deal. Well, on this particular morning, I jumped off the top bunk and when I hit the ground, I noticed something was wrong. Very wrong. My left foot landed safely, but my right foot felt... weird. Squishy weird. I was wearing socks, but as I kicked my foot up to investigate, I realized that the bottom of my sock was covered in dogshit. In short, I jumped 10 feet from the air and landed in dogshit.

Stepping in Dog Shit Story #2
This one is worse. When Bo was little, he got a bad case of the runs. He still didn't know the difference from pooping in my bedroom and pooping outside. One day, he took a crap on the new wood floors that Greg Terry installed on my bedroom floor. When I got out of bed that morning, I stood up and took a step towards the door and felt that same feeling I had back in high school once. But this time, I wasn't wearing any socks. I looked down and saw poop squished between my toes. Hot poop. Fresh, hot poop. I didn't get it completely at first and took a few steps and tracked the poop through my bedroom before I realized what happened. I stepped in a hot pile of dogshit.