poo

Sunday Chuckle: Rime of the Ancient Mariner

“This is a song about what not to do when a bird shits on ya!” — Bruce Dickinson

 

Last weekend, a bird shit on me.  It would have got me right on the head, except I happened to have my hands over my head at that exact moment.  I felt something wet on my fingers.  I looked and saw something gross!  I ran inside to wash.

I ran into the cottage warning, “A bird shit on me, clear a path!”

My dad’s response?

“How do you know?”

Gee dad, I dunno, how about the bird shit on the fucking fingers?!

 

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#764: Go Wild!!

GETTING MORE TALE #764: Go Wild!!

It’s a rite of passage for children and adults alike:  going to see the animals at African Lion Safari in southern Ontario.  The children thrill to the sights of lions, rhinos, elephants and all sorts of exotic birds.  Adults panic at the monkeys climbing on their cars.  Sure, you can always visit the Safari in one of their tour buses, but that’s no fun.

At the African Lion Safari, the animals run free while the humans stay safely locked in their cars.  Open doors and windows are prohibited, and you absolutely must not feed the animals.  I saw what happens to fools that do.

We won’t get into the ethics of animals in captivity — that is not what this story is about.  Many are passionate about animal rights, and that’s a good thing.  This is just a simple tale of our adventure at the Safari in the early 2000s.  Incidentally it’s also the last time we went.

It started with a conversation.  “When was the last time you were at African Lion Safari?”  My sister Kathryn, our friend Shannon, and I decided to relive our childhoods.  The key was driving through the Safari in your own car.  Tour buses are for chumps.  To do this, you had to be willing to accept potential damage to your vehicle.  I’ve never seen anyone rammed by a rhino, but windshield wipers are regularly ripped off by excited monkeys.  My sister was driving a white Neon, and she decided she was willing to accept whatever happened.

We needed tunes.  Stopping at an HMV store, my sister and I both bought CDs that were indicative of the times.  Although it was far from my favourite album, I re-bought Crush by Bon Jovi.  For the third time in a row, they re-issued their new studio album with a bonus CD.  Keep the Faith had a bonus live album, while These Days was loaded with rarities on the second CD.  I was disappointed but not surprised that I would be buying their new album twice, as it was becoming the norm.  Crush was the weakest of the three albums.  It was the first to be co-written by Billy Falcon, and it was a sign of things to come.  But I had to have that bonus live CD.

Kathryn picked up a double Savage Garden.  She was very much into the Australian pop rock duo, as they reminded her of an earlier band she loved — Roxette.  Like Bon Jovi, Savage Garden reissued their album with a bonus live CD.  Don’t scoff.  Savage Garden (or just “Savage”, as I learned their fans shortened it) could really write songs.  Unlike Bon Jovi, they didn’t rely on external songsmiths.  And Steve Smith of Journey played drums on their second album.

We had the tunes, we had the white Neon, and we lined up to enter.

It was a scorching hot August day; thanks to God for air conditioning.  Taking the car allowed us to linger in certain habitats, and skip through ones we were less interested in.  Early in, we saw one family that must have been feeding animals, because now they had a big brown bear leaning on it, staring through the closed windows.  This is why you don’t open the windows or feed the animals.  Fortunately there are park workers in zebra-striped trucks roaming the grounds to keep an eye on things.  Injuries are rare, though recently a trainer was badly hurt by an elephant.

We were having a great time right into the monkey habitat.  Unlike most drivers, we were hoping to catch a few monkey passengers.  Swiftly, one attached himself to Kathryn’s side view mirror.  I say “himself” because he sat on that mirror with his legs wide open, balls blowin’ in the wind.  He was having a great old time, sitting on her side view with his balls dangling free.  I like to think that Bon Jovi’s “It’s My Life” was playing at that exact moment.  It looked quite relaxing and comfortable for our monkey friend.  His balls hung like red Christmas ornaments.

You can tell this story is pre-cell phone cameras.  Otherwise we would have video and photos to prove it.

As Monkey Nuts let it all hang out over my sister’s mirror, I noticed behind us a car full of children.  They had New York license plates, and they were pointing and laughing hysterically.  At first I thought they were laughing at the testicles, like I was.  They were not.  I figured that out when Monkey Nuts jumped ship for somewhere else to hang.

“What are they laughing at?!” I asked with frustration in my voice.  They were still pointing at us!

“Don’t worry about it!” scoffed Shannon.

I was still puzzled.

We figured it out in short order.

After exiting the Safari, we all got out of the car to stretch our legs.  Then, it was all clear.  On the roof of my sister’s white car was a perfectly hilarious monkey poo.  While Mr. Testicles was distracting us on the side view, a friend of his must have been on the roof, using it as his own personal commode.  After leaving his deposit, it began to cook in the hot August sun.

As Jon Bon Jovi said himself, “Say it isn’t so. Tell me it’s not true”.  Ah, but it was.

Our first stop on the ride home:  a drive-through car wash.  It was tragically too late.  The poo residue was stuck on there, and good.  She was going to have to clean this one up manually, and she was on her own with that.

Savage Garden probably said it best on “The Animal Song”.

“Cause I want to live like animals,
Careless and free like animals,
I want to live,
I want to run through the jungle.”

Let your balls hang free on the side view mirror of life.

Sunday Chuckle: Buck Schitz

The featured photo for this week’s Sunday Chuckle was sent to us by Boppin, who thought these “woods wipes” would be perfect for Sausagefest.  The funny this is that we actually have a Bucky at Sausagefest.

Bucky commented, “Copyright infringement right here. I sell my actual shit under the same branding. Don’t judge, we all got stuff on the side.”

 

 

If you enjoyed this, you may also like:

REVIEW:  Coleman Biowipes

GALLERY: Visual Enhancements

Gah!  Don’t you hate “losing” files among your many hard drives and devices?  I meant to include these pics with past posts, but had forgotten where they were (or just forgot to add them)!  So here are some visual enhancements to past posts (and links to the articles they go with).

1. Soundwave making energon cubes!  (He comes with the cube accessory and I added the effects.)

Originally for the gallery “Alice Cooper vs. the Decepticons”.

sw

2. A screenshot of the Risk-like computer game Lux.  This particular board is Las Vegas, Nevada being invaded by aliens.  I am purple.

Originally for the review of Michael Hunter – River.

LUX

3. I am on iTunes!

Originally for the review of Kathryn Ladano – Open.

itunes

4. Tracklist for one of my annual Christmas CDs that I made for family and co-workers.  Unfortunately I didn’t capture the artist names.  I do know them — in track order, the artists are:  1. Bill Ward, 2. Helix, 3. Twisted Sister, 4. Bryan Adams, 5. Marillion, 6. Bing Crosby & David Bowie, 7. Lemmy, 8. Helix, 9. Ted Nugent, 10. Steve Morse, 11. Hawksley Workman, 12. Wynton & Ellis Marsalis, 13. Trans-Siberian Orchestra, 14. John Lennon, 15. Def Leppard, 16. Jon Bon Jovi, 17. Eric Johnson, 18. Brian Vollmer, 19. Bruce Springsteen, 20. Sir Christopher Lee, and 21. Bob & Doug McKenzie!

Originally from the review of Marillion – A Very Barry Christmas.

 

Christmas CD 2012

5. Tracklist for a Bruce Dickinson “greatest hits” CD that I made for Aaron to accompany his copy of The Chemical Wedding.  Pretty sweet.  “The Best of the Rest of Bruce Dickinson”.  Heh!

Originally for the review of Bruce Dickinon’s The Chemical Wedding.

Best of the Rest of Bruce

6. NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH!  Click here only if you wanna see the bloody tooth that the dentist ripped out of my jaw in #352: “It’s All Helix’ Fault! – The Story Of My Tooth”.  I strongly urge you to heed this warning, it ain’t pretty!

7. And lastly, this wasn’t for anything special.  I just wanted to have a permanent record of that one day (Nov 11 2013) when two articles featuring poop were in my top five most popular posts!  Ta-da!

TOP 6

WTF Search Terms: More Dirty Things edition

TED AND HOOKERS

WTF Search Terms XXII: More Dirty Things edition

I really don’t have much commentary this time.   These don’t require any commentary!  I continue to be amazed at the search terms that have led people here.

 

horny teddy bear movie

handesex

doorpiss.com

www black hughi tited women sex.com/tube8

of deking robin hud porno.com

max dubrow girl p tits 1962

tag: porno van kinad.com

fugazi bad girls club

porno en youtube meiden

what comic book character puts poo poo on crackers?

 

For more WTF Search Terms, click here!  See ya next time on the weird side.

This was all I could think of.

WTF Search Terms: Health & Safety edition

WTF Search Terms XI:  Health & Safety edition

Welcome back to WTF.  Everything seen below is an actual search term that somehow took people here to mikeladano.com.  In the public interest, today I thought I’d gather together health-concerned search items. (Missed the last installment?  Click here!)

  1. dr george morgan lebrain (I am only a doctor of Rock)
  2. doctors names and phone number in canada @yahoo.ca “+1” -spam (but I am unlisted)
  3. dude dont shit a brick (never a good idea)
  4. coleman biowipes reviews (great environmentally friendly product)
  5. open car door pissing (not recommended)
  6. how smoking makes you impotent
  7. pisser male door (again with the pissing)
  8. geoff tate spits on drummer (many viruses and bacteria can be transmitted through saliva)
  9. guys who piss with the door open (…?)
  10. how to loosen up and crack your neck  (very carefully is how…actually, just don’t.)

See ya next time for another batch of WTFs!

DIFFICULT TO CURE LP

WTF Search Terms: Bodily functions edition

FARTED

WTF Search Terms V:  Bodily functions edition

All of these are search terms that people typed into Google, and wound up on my site.  Today the theme is “bodily functions”.  If you missed the last one, be sure to click here!

  1. “peeing” rowboat
  2. shiting on top of a shit
  3. shit into hand while in shower
  4. poo
  5. guy pissing in doorway
  6. boy holding poop in
  7. poo pictures
  8. poo in the door way
  9. poop in the shower post
  10. when to wash your hands pinterest

“When to wash your hands”?  Definitely after all of that!

I couldn’t figure out a music video to put with this, so let’s go with “TV Dinners” by ZZ Top, since that often will cause you to need to perform search term #4.

REVIEW: Coleman Biowipes (Sausagefest XII)

SAM_2872

COLEMAN BIOWIPES
$3.99 for resealable package of 30

July 5-6 2013 was the weekend:  the annual all-rock, all dude Countdown event known as SAUSAGEFEST.   This particular installment being Sausagefest XII.  As discussed in Record Store Tales Part 30, and as seen in last year’s video, I suffer from a certain level of anxiety regarding the restroom arrangements.  As in, there aren’t any.  And I’m not as young as I once was, and the plumbing doesn’t always work as well as it used to when I was in my 20’s.

To the rescue came Biowipes, by Coleman!  Not only can you shit with a clean bottom, but also a clean conscience:  the Biowipes completely biodegrade in just 21 days.  (Less I’m sure if you ate the bacon-wrapped jalapenos that we consumed.)

The Biowipes are large enough (20 x 25 cm) and tough enough to handle whatever you need to do.  There are 30 of these moistened towelettes in each package, by my estimation and usage, probably enough to get you through 10 days in the woods.

6/5 stars

Seen below:  Some of the many reasons these wipes were necessary!

For related reading material, please go to BOOK REVIEW: What’s Your Poo Telling You? by Josh Richman and Anish Sheth M.D.

BOOK REVIEW: What’s Your Poo Telling You? by Josh Richman and Anish Sheth M.D.

POO

What’s Your Poo Telling You? by Josh Richman and Anish Sheth M.D.

Illustrated by Peter Arkle, Chronicle Books, 96 pages

If you’re like me, you probably enjoy a good read while droppin’ a deuce.  And if you’re not like me, don’t judge; no, just take a look at all the Uncle John’s reader’s in the humour section of the local bookstore.  Who’s laughing now?  Uncle John, all the way to the bank!

Obviously, I’m  not alone.

A Christmas gift from my lovely wife, Mrs LeBrain, What’s Your Poo Telling You? by Josh Richman and Dr. Anish Sheth, is an informative illustrated reference book.  For health purposes.  For example, let’s say you encounter the health problem known colloquially as “Log Jam”.  Turn to page 62:   lack of water and/or dietary fiber cause stool to be too hard to pass.  Ahh!  I see!  Treatment:  enemas or…ewwww!…”manual disimpaction”.

Other conditions or events covered in the book include:  “Floaters vs. Sinkers”, “Rambo Poo”, “Number Three” (aka “Butt Piss”), the “Streak”, and many more.  Each article includes health tips, a biology lesson of the gastrointestinal variety, and many are illustrated.

STREAK

There are also interesting factual articles to enjoy, such as a page on dinosaur droppings, and one on toilets owned by presidents and royalty.

For even more fun, be sure to check out the sequel, What’s My Pee Telling Me?  This helpful tome includes content on farts, pee, and even more poo.  New conditions discussed include “Itchy Poo” and “Poonami”.

I strongly recommended one or both of these books to concerned citizens everywhere.

5/5 stars

Part 7: A Shitty Story

DISCLAIMER:  THIS CHAPTER BEST READ ON AN EMPTY STOMACH.

 

RECORD STORE TALES Part 7: A Shitty Story

August 1995.  Beautiful warm summer day.  The sun was up early and so was I.  It was Sunday, the best day to work the store.  Sunday was just a four hour shift and in the summer, very slow.  It was your basic fun day to be at work, cleaning away and listening to tunes in air conditioning.

I usually walked to work.  I put on some shorts and a big baggy T-shirt and headed out on foot.  The best way cut across this school and park with two baseball diamonds.  While walking I couldn’t help but think of how great life was.  The sun was out, it was summer, I only had to work four hours.  My family was at the cottage that weekend so I had the place to myself when they got home too.

Right in between the first baseball field and the second, I felt my stomach gurgle a little bit.  I’d had the farts a bit that morning but that was nothing unusual.  I continued along my walk.  It sure was a quiet day in town that morning.  I loved the way the sun was shining through the leaves.

As the gurgles continued, I entered the mall.  I strode down the empty hallway to the big glass window of our store and opened the door.

Just when I had closed the door, locked it behind me and was in an enclosed space, I let off another stinker.  It was rotten, like a rotten egg had just been dropped behind me.  It was powerful and sour.  They kept coming too, in little squirts here and there.  I started to feel crampy.

I picked out my music for the day (Joe Satriani), opened the door letting out the smell, and waited for customers.  I was really starting to feel rotten.

I worked the first two hours just farting up a storm.  Unsurprisingly, I didn’t have many customers that day.  They could probably smell me down the hall.  I don’t know what I ate, but I know what my sausage farts smell like, and this was worse.  I wasn’t feeling too mobile anymore, so I pulled up the chair.  Suddenly I really had to shit.  I was still farting too.

2 o’clock rolled around.  I made it halfway through the day.  The rest should be no problem.  Halfway there.  Point of no return!  Hah.  Whatever.  Piece of cake.  Only a few people came in.  The cleaning could wait.  I’d just tell the truth.  I really wasn’t feeling well.  Besides I could really just catch up the next day anyway.

I farted again.  It felt good.  I felt a tremendous amount of relief.

Then, the horror struck.  The feeling that something wasn’t right.  The smell.  I looked down, to see a tiny trickle of liquid shit rolling down my leg….

There was someone in the store!  Holy shit, I couldn’t leave!  Oh fuck.  Oh fuckity-fuck-fuck!

Although I was in complete denial of it at the time, there was no way that guy didn’t smell me.  There was just no fucking way.  It was unavoidable.  It was a wall of stench just hanging there, stale, in the air.  It was incredible.  Still, the man had etiquette.  As he paid for his cassette, he politely asked me, “Are you feeling OK?  You’re turning green.”  I told him I had thrown up earlier.  He wished me well and left.

Completely and totally freaking out, I waddled over to the door and locked the store.  We didn’t have a washroom.  I had no choice, I had to make it to the mall washroom and fast.  I prayed to God that it would be empty.  I improvised a “back in 5 minutes” sign.  I tried to waddle anonymously down the hall.  I hung a right.  Down another hall.  Why the hell were the washrooms so far away?

I entered.  It was empty.  I entered a stall.  Bracing myself for whatever lay ahead, I took a deep breath and prepared to look down below.

It was bad.  A deep puddle of rich brown liquid shit lay in my undies.  Luckily, it had acted as a bowl, to catch most of it.  A few streams went down my legs, but none reached my socks.  Small victory.  I’d take that.

I had no choice, there was only one thing to do.  I removed my shorts, and then carefull removed the underwear while maintaining the bowl shape.  The flushed them down the toilet.  I prayed that it would not plug.  It did not.

Grasping a generous amount of toilet paper, I cleaned myself up the best I could.  The washroom still empty, I wet some paper towels as well.  My shorts had been stained through.  I cleaned them as best I could but they were definitely tainted.  Luckily, my baggy shirt, when untucked, more than covered the stain.

I sat there on the store chair the next two hours, not moving my ass once.  I phoned up Tom who was in Waterloo.  “I just threw up man,” I lied.  “What should I do?  Should I go home?  I have two more hours to go.”

Tom urged me to go home, but some perverse sense of duty prevented it.  I’d hang in there.  That day, our store earned a record low amount. $99 in sales, for the day.  That record stood the whole time I worked there.  Even on the worst snow days we’ve ever had, my record stood.

I closed up shop.  Spraying our vinyl chair with a healthy dose of Lysol, I wiped it down.  It stank.  I cleaned it again until the smell was gone.  The last of the evidence was wiped clean.  I waddled home, the shit now drying in the crack of my ass.

As I walked, the friction turned to heat, the heat turned to burning, and the burning turned to agony.  I walked through the park, now occupied by many people watching a baseball game.  I strode between the crowd and the diamond, the only pathway.  I walked like I had a pickle up my ass.

I got home, tossed out the shorts, ran a shower and cleaned myself thoroughly with generous amounts of soap.  After my shower, I just ran a cold bath and soaked.  Ahhh.

When you have a day like that, you can handle anything, I guarantee it.  I am not ashamed of my incontinence.  Rather, there is a lesson here.  Shitting your pants is definitely a good reason to close the store early!