Posts Tagged ‘turds’

Just entered a story, “Santa’s Special Gift,” in the Spec the Halls contest for holiday-themed weirdness.  Check it out!  Vote and leave a comment! This will allow you to see something that’s a little lighter in spirit than my usual black hackery.  It’s still weirder than bloody hell, but it’s… kinder. Gentler, even.  Who knows, they might even send me money… not likely, given the literary world’s discrimination against what it considers “potty humor.”  However, anyone that’s read the scene in Thomas Pynchon’s Gravity’s Rainbow set in the bathroom of the Roseland Ballroom knows that there’s literary gold in the toilet.  You just need an open mind.

You can read the story here on this blog, but if you like it, please run over there and tell them it’s the greatest piece of holiday literature involving doo-doo ever!

This story is a part of the Spec the Halls contest for speculative winter holiday-themed fiction, artwork, and poetry. You may find guidelines and links to other entries at


We had an old friend visit us this past weekend. We’ve known her almost since we moved down here, one of a group of friends we had on Key Biscayne.

Key Biscayne was not always the boutique island for rich assholes that is today. Before the condos came, most of the dwellings were small middle-class ranch homes. “Mackle houses,” they called them, named for the original builder in the early fifties. There was a fringe of upscale homes on or near Harbor Drive (including Richard Nixon’s “Winter White House,” where Tricky Dick was occasionally observed frolicking in the sand in his black wingtips, cocktail in hand,) but overall, the place was nothing fancy. There was a rundown zoo, and the Keyhole, a genuine dive bar with semi-pro drunks and the occasional parking lot fight.

Now it’s just another yuppie enclave, but as usual, I’ve completely digressed.

Our friend lives a couple of counties north of us and spent the night. Next day, my son was walking the dog and somehow the topic of conversation turned to the proper technique of canine waste disposal.

She now lives in a townhouse development, and before that spent quite a few years in the northeast. She was rather disturbed to learn that we let our pooch pinch off her puppy peanuts directly into the public domain.

I enumerated the reasons why this was not a big deal.

  1. our neighborhood has large yards, and on our street, large swales.
  2. we try to avoid high traffic areas — front doors, around mailboxes etc.
  3. the only time anyone ventures into their front yard in summer is to get in their car.
  4. a turd melts away to nothing in our hot, moist bug-infested environment faster than a popsicle on a sidewalk.

I then asked her if she uses a toilet in Palm Beach, Broward or Dade counties. When she indicated that this was seldom not the case, I pointed out that since these three counties dump over three hundred million gallons of lightly treated sewage into the ocean on a daily basis, it was hard to get upset over Perdita’s little fertilizations, which leave a much smaller environmental footprint.

Unless it’s your foot, in which case I recommend the edge of the sidewalk or a stick. Too bad we can’t do that for the ocean.