no shit

I feel sorry for the janitors at my workplace.

There are some nasty women that work at my company. I don't know who they are, but I can see where they've been. I can smell it upon stepping into any ladies' room. It makes me look around myself suspiciously at the women around me (actually, that is not too often, considering the 15:1 male to female ratio) wondering who the evildoer was this time.

They remodeled the restrooms at work, to make them more "sanitary" or something. Bullshit. No matter how high-tech you make the bathroom, people will still shit in it. They will still equate floor with sanitary napkin disposal. They will still wipe their boogers on the walls of the stall. They will still mispell their graffiti on the walls. They will still make their presence known by grunting and groaning while they do their business, then walk out of there without washing their hands as if they had just walked into the bathroom to check their hair.

They replaced the toilets with automatic flushing toilets and the paper towels with air dryers. They cannot do anything about the women (I cannot call them ladies) that smear poo all over the seat and fill the toilet with feminine hygiene products and shit and the like.

Their attempts at improving bathroom morale have failed miserably. The removal of the unsanitary, disease-spreading paper towel dispenser has denied those of us that wipe correctly (it's front to back, people) and wash our hands with soap after we have finished the last recourse of protecting our clean hands from the germs left on the door by the last dirty woman.

In conclusion, "no shit", although unscientific, would be a wonderful solution to a very messy problem.

A child yelled at me while I was walking Charlie this afternoon. Yeah, seriously. We were not more than ten minutes into our walk when something happened, and I was anonymously reprimanded as a result of my actions... or lack thereof. It was a scolding that I will remember forever.

I'll start by saying that I've had three dogs in my life and I have never -ever- not done my duty and picked up their doody. I've followed my dogs through knee-deep snow; I've stepped in puddles; I've climbed hills, and defended myself against pointy trees... all to pick up their crap. I do all this because I think dogs are awesome creatures, and as a reward for my dogs' unlimited love and affection, I should at least do them the solid of stooping to scoop their poop.

As a result of my strong feelings, you could understand my horror when I was yelled at, by a random, loudmouthed fucking kid in a nearby house...

"Pick up that shit!!"

Ummm, what? My immediate response was to just yell out, "Fuck your mother!!!" but I stopped myself. In addition to the fact that there was a guy with a beautiful Weimaraner in a nearby backyard and I didn't want to offend him or his dog, it also occurred to me that the yeller was a child, and he clearly did not know my whole shitty story.

1. Two Poops, One Bag
The shit was awkward because I was already carrying a bag of steaming Charlie dung that he had just dropped about five minutes prior. In the three years that we've had this pooch, he's never done more than one shit per walk. When we first got him, I used to carry multiple bags just in case of the duplicate shit, but I abandoned that practice about a year ago after he failed to ever do the double deuce.

2. Basic Science
It really is common knowledge that it's next to impossible to bag a liquid that's resting on the ground. In fact, I challenge you to approach any puddle on the road and attempt to pick it up with an inverted bag. You might get a little bit of liquid in the scoop effort, but odds are you'll only end up getting puddle water all over your hands. That was what ran through my head when I saw the liquid shit come out of his ass. Do I want to re-open my shit bag (re: "Two Poops, One Bag") and get stool all over me, only to end up not being able to pick up shit number two, despite all efforts? Fuck no, man.

3. Location, Location, Location
It's not as if Charlie selected a football field, a playground area or a boulevard for his squatting ground. On the contrary, he decided to get down and dirty on a muddy patch of land located off of a pathway located behind a set of fenced in backyards. No one ever walks there. Also, the ground there was already a big muddy mess, so no one would even WANT to walk there.

4. Deceptive Squat
Even though Charlie was in shit position for about a minute, most of that was just straining. Despite his efforts, he only ended up pooping for about five seconds, dropping approximately two or three tablespoons of shit.

There you have it. That's my defense. That is the true account of what happened on this fine spring afternoon. The cursing child will, unfortunately, never be able to hear this, but I'm sure he'll tell everyone he sees in the next week that he stood up for the City of Mississauga by spreading the "abandoned shit makes our city shitty" message, even if it was anonymous and unwarranted.

I shit you not.