the stupid crap I think about

(originally posted 1/8/2018)

Watching my dog poop got me to thinking about time travel.

Really.

I don’t claim to understand how the brain works but there I was looking at my dog poop and it suddenly hit me … humans are the only animal that has to wipe.

Dogs. Birds. Even snakes go to the bathroom without getting shit all over themselves.

It can’t be a coincidence.

There’s always a reason and that reason usually has something to do with money.

Hence the time travel.

Who would profit from people having to wipe after pooping?

The toilet paper industry.

Big Lumber.

Which, ironically enough, was the name of my radio show in college. Don’t kid yourself, the 2 a.m. Tuesday shift was the place to be heard.

So let’s just pretend it’s 1880. We’re like every other animal on the planet and we can take a dump without getting it all over our ass and we also happen to be the proud owners of huge tracts of land covered with Southern pines and Douglas firs. And business is a bit slow at the company that would soon be changing its name to British Perforated Paper Company.

So we sit down on our then-perfectly-designed asses to figure out a way to create a little more demand for our product.

“What if” someone postulates “people needed a few fistfuls of the stuff every time they went to the bathroom?”

Heads would begin to nod approvingly.

“Whatever for?” someone else would no doubt ask before things got too optimistic.

“Hmmmmmmm. If only there was a little shit stuck to our arses when we were done.”

“If only” and someone would sigh softly.

“Wait! Didn’t Frank just invent a time machine?”

“Yes, but how can that help us…. unless….” a fourth person would interject “that new DNA splicer that Gary came up with could somehow modify the human ass in such a way that poop would get smeared all over it when you shat.”

“Why its 1880 isn’t it? Of course we can use this type of cutting-edge technology to travel back in time and change what God himself created” the first guy would proudly boast.

“But gentleman” the thirds guy would say, “Do you think it’s alright for us to doom billions of people to a life of having to wipe shit off their ass every time they go the bathroom just so we can make a little money?”

“To become the only animal that can’t just poop and go on with their day like we do now just for the sake of profit?”

Someone said the last line, I lost track of who it was. One of the guys in the room.

Then a few of the other men laughed and soon a gavel was brought down and approval was given for Frank and Gary to go back in time and forever change the course of human history. The device they traveled in would later be found and turned into a prop in a Doctor Who episode.

It’s at this point that I’d like you to take a moment and imagine what their asses looked like before they embarked on this mission to bury the asshole deep within two fleshy flaps so that there was no earthly way to poop without it getting all over these ‘cheeks.’

What you would look like if they hadn’t listened to their superiors.

Both Frank and Gary would instantly know they were successful when their pants suddenly didn’t fit right and both would deeply regret their actions the first time they sat down and took a crap.

“Frank! Are seeing this?!” Gary would scream from the stall next to him.

“I am! Gosh what a stink! Is it going to be like this every time? What have we done?”

It’s at this point that my dog and her perfectly-clean asshole start to jump up at the back door to let me know she’d like back in the house.

Damn Frank and Gary.