An honorable, serious blogger who even cares for a moderately decent audience should never steer onto a topic that borders local indecency as this. That said, I am not a serious blogger, I don’t care for decent audience and my honor is beyond debate or reconciliation so let me get started right away.
Now what is it about some people that makes them crap all the time? They crap if the weather cock turns or if the traffic freezes. They crap when they come across more crap just as often as they would when they come across the crap-less. Then there’s the whole holy crap, and unholy filth.
And it’s not a one-off thing either. I wrote eloquent literature on the pee-ability of dogs and how that helps world peace. And on how the slimy dribbles of snot can change the technological landscape. And bird poo theories. But this crapper thing is just… crappy!
Before I diverge any further let me take you deeper into the soft core of the matter at hand- it is NOT the crap that matters but rather is the crapper.
Crappers! They put world-changing discussions on hold and let the mist of ideas fade into the oblivion with their untimely escapades. They let loose their physio-emotional-pshycho-tempo-biological effluents in the no-way-but-die elevator rides for the rest of the crew to enjoy. They hijack perfectly honorable coffee break discussions. They break the social order of gatherings with their pleasantly held gobar. No gadget, no technique, no diet satisfies them for a month, and yet if they leave home without it they will offer unto the universe their variations of Hugo Boss.
While I find crappers one of the supreme failures of the theory of evolution alongside pathetic excuses for human life, I can at least understand if there is a certain level of biological uncertainty involved. After all, it is only likely that the crapper eventually understand the level of disruption they bring upon the world.
But wait, no! Consistency and constipation seem to go together. The loudest shall crap, and the rest shall be reduced to simpler lifeforms that shift to anaerobic respiration. Oh, and cannot re-crap.
And it follows that you cannot compete with the seasoned crapper for they can, and will smother you with years of experience and baked beans. If the crapper is a girl, you could at least expect a stern lecture on indecency and lack of tact in bringing up as delicate a subject. A guy? Expect to go down in a “who’s the bigger crapper” contest.
This post is not with an oblique target. Possibly because I don’t know what an oblique target means. It isn’t a rotten retort either. Rotten, possibly, depending on the time since exposure and initial set of bacteria available for the break down. It isn’t much of an opinion either. Just that the next time I see that constipated look and 20-rounds-a-minute crap, I’m going to give them a good smack approximately in the nasal bridge area. And follow it up with forced enema.
PS: If the chronically medically constipated or with “uniform motion tending to infinity” find this disturbing- don’t. I have nothing against biological crappers- chronic and hobbyists. It is the verb-lingusitic types that get me…





