Poo On Shoe

Quick show of hands, and be honest now, how many of you has this happened to? Yea, we've all been there, the tedious process of washing the poo off your shoe, maybe with an old toothbrush to get the poo out of the crack, or simply just trying to rub it off in the grass.

Nevertheless, it's a pain, especially on people with weak stomachs. Here is a picture of my poor Reebox. I remeber the day clearly, the day of our geek team picture, a dog must have left a nice ripe steamer there waiting for me to step on it, and YES, I did! Yee Haw! The funniest part of the episode, I had to ride the elevator up to the third floor to clean the shoe off in the sink, much to the dismay of my elevator companion.

Could I be running out of things to blog about.......naw, just what was on my mind today as I dodged some 'yard pickles' coming back from the evening stroll. I'll leave you with the nice sentiments of this man who seems to be pretty smart.

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I walked on toward Ploughwright, thinking about feces. What a lot we had found out about the prehistoric past from the study of fossilized dung of long-vanished animals. A miraculous thing, really; a recovery from the past from what was carelessly rejected. And in the Middle Ages, how concerned people who lived close to the world of nature were with the feces of animals. And what a variety of names they had for them: the Crotels of a Hare, the Friants of a Boar, the Spraints of an Otter, the Werderobe of a Badger, the Waggying of a Fox, the Fumets of a Deer. Surely there might be some words for the material so near to the heart of Ozy Froats [an academic studying feces] than shit? What about the Problems of a President, the Backward Passes of a Footballer, the Deferrals of a Dean, the Odd Volumes of a Librarian, the Footnotes of a Ph.D., the Low Grades of a Freshman, the Anxieties of an Untenured Professor? -- Robertson Davies, "The Rebel Angels"