Jan
Posted on 20th January 2010
Greetings from London, the popular English town that I am totally in right now and have been for the past week or so, mostly eating meat and drinking whatever is put in front of me. It is going okay. Most of the things I have encountered so far have been “brilliant.” There were a couple things, however, that at first I thought kind of sucked but later found out were actually “crap” and/or “rubbish.” In short, I am having a really nice time.
Speaking of crap, however, yesterday I was walking down the really nice street I am staying on in Kilburn Park, the popular London neighborhood, when I happened the remarkably sizable turd pictured about. Usually when I happen upon a turd of any size on the street, I keep moving and going about my day, but this one stopped me in my tracks, paralyzing me even. I should have put a coin or my face next to it in the photograph to give a sense of scale because on its own, it’s kind of hard to tell what exactly we are dealing with. Let me assure you, however, that this turd in particular was historic in nature, measuring approximately eight inches in length and probably just as much around. I am tempted to suggest that it was approximately the same size as my privates, but I need to focus here and stay on point, the shit point.
Anyway, once I finished taking several photographs of the turd in question, I continued on my way and did all sorts of things I can’t even get into right now. I couldn’t help but wonder, however, exactly what or who had left this giant mass of feces behind for me to stumble upon (but- thankfully- not in). My first guess was that it was a “large dog of some sort,” a Great Dane maybe. Since showing the photo around a bit, however, others have suggested that this bomb was left behind by an actual Dane, maybe someone just visiting London for a few days even and unsure of what the public shitting policies might be. I guess we’ll never know really.
As I type this, this atomic shit sits just outside my window, a house or two down the road, mocking me in a way that only a giant, mystery dump is capable. I suppose the right thing to do would be to remove the shit from mine and everyone else’s lives by throwing it in the trash or something. But as I sit here thinking about it, I realize it is more of a “could do” type situation, which in British means “Sure- this is physically possible, but there is very little chance that it is actually going to happen ever, so just shut the fuck up right now please. Thank you.” I am happy to just leave it at that and silently remain in awe of whatever creature’s ass this thing dropped from. My hat is off to you. Also, I am sending you a dry cleaning bill.
In other news, if you do find yourself in the shit-haunted London area, please come see my shows at the Hen and Chickens Theatre in Islington on Thursday, January 21 and Friday, January 22 at 9:30pm. I really hope you can make it. That would be so great. You can get tickets right here and you should, dammit.
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