I have had some real heavy type blogs lately, so I will now give you poop stories! (This was one of the topics, post softball loss number seven, at ye olde pub). I lived across from the bottom floor restroom in college. One night, a very large frat brother of mine blundered into my room with a very confused, drunken look on his face. He stared at my recliner for about a half a minute. “What are you doing, Brad?” He looked at me, then flipped up the cushion and proceeded to drop his pants. I jumped up just in time to prevent a fresh log from being dropped onto my chair. I learned that night to lock my door.
Speaking of poop (I love saying that word), my favorite party trick is “poop dollar.” You take a buck and pick up a dog turd and rub it together. You then drop the dollar (outside of course) on the deck and grab a beer. The dollar, shit side down, attracts people like bugs to a bug zapper. They pick it up, feel the poo, then you laugh maniacally. My favorite moment was when my buddy Dave picked it up twice within the same hour. Best dollar I ever spent.
I will be trying “poop dollar” outside the elementary school down the street.
I like that better than a burning bag of poo