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What do rainy days, Alley Oop and poop have in common?

Updated: May 16, 2020


This version, which is better or worse depending on your point of view, has been upgraded (or downgraded) with a lot of new “organic” material.

I ask your indulgence for sending an updated version. I’ve only done this once before with my April 15, 2018 tax-themed post titled “The Ides of April - Time to Give it to Caesar.” Since the 15th was a Sunday, I had an exemption that allowed me to add more material and still avoid a late penalty.


If the toilet humor in this post offends you, simply wipe your hands of it and flush it.


Reading time: under 20 minutes - Depends upon how full of crap you think I am – or you are; so, in either case, conserve water and wait to flush.

Reading level: somewhere between 5th to 8th grade male

Rating: PG-13 (“pretty gassy”)


Changes from original – nearly all at the beginning and end - are noted in red in odor to conserve your time.


Let’s see…as I was writing this post and thinking about a title for this farticle (not a typo – read on), for some unknown reason, the 1960 song “Alley Oop” (live American Bandstand version) came to mind. (Here's also a carton version.) If you’re reading this on the “porcelain throne” in the “library”, don’t flush yet as there’s more coming. I figured a title like this would appeal to a wide variety of minds: logical, scatological and, a third type, I’ll call scattered-logical. Personally, I’ve spent some time in all three states of mind.


My family was texting about how major rain storms like those in Florida, where two of my four sisters live, can help ease the drudgery of car washing chores. I joined with “Personally, I also use the local Rainy Day Carwash. Now, if I could only figure out how to get nature to clean the inside."


My sister Peggy replied: “For sure! Maybe I could wait for a wind storm and just open the doors!”


Me (with some new material for this post): “Actually, I use that method to clear out the monkeys in my head. I just open my mind and let the wind of the Spirit blow them out. (Hey, that’s what the Spirit did to the frightened disciples on Pentecost. It literally scared the “crap” [fear] out of them.)


But I have to remain vigilant, since they have a nasty habit of coming back again (and bringing their friends). That's likely, because for many years I didn't know they were there. As a result of this lack of awareness, I kept feeding them their favorite foods: fear, anxiety, anger, resentment, worry, regrets, etc. At least now that I know their preferred diet, I try to pay attention to my thoughts, so I don't indulge them. I try to stay awake!




I don't want these uninvited pests taking up rent-free space in my head and spreading their crap all over the place like this video shows (thanks to son John for telling me about the YouTube's like this).

Gives new meaning to AA’s caution about the effects of "stinkin' thinkin.”


One more thing – seeing this RoboSweeper in action is one reason that I try not to leave machinery (as well as my thoughts) unattended. It’s also why I’m not ready yet to yield control of my driving to an artificial intelligence, like my son John is already doing in his Tesla.

On the Wantagh Parkway at rush hour, with autopilot ON and hands OFF the wheel (isn’t his monogrammed steering wheel cool?):




If the vehicle’s AI brain’s software “takes a dump” and crashes, I’ll be, as they say, “up sh*t’s creek without a paddle” and they’ll need a lot of Charmin to clean me up off the road.


Go with the flow – don’t restrict it


Cousin Margie: Consider this post the report you had asked for. Since you were a teacher, please be generous when marking it and give me an easy passing grade – as easy as I’ve been able to pass gas after my colon was removed a few years ago. As a result of my colectomy, I’ve been running with minimal restrictions, due to my “straight pipes.” For you non-gearheads, that’s a racing term for a vehicle that has an exhaust that has been modified for easier flow by removing restricting parts such as the muffler and catalytic converter. Listen here for the beauty of the engine’s un-muffled heartbeat.


Fart attack: Punderdome update

While we’re on this smelly topic, I wanted to give you all an update on my recent visit to the New York Post Fifth Annual Special Edition of the Punderdome Competition in Brooklyn. The next regularly scheduled (not Annual) competition is Sep. 10.


First, the crowd – for starters, compared to me, nearly all of these punsters were youngsters, mostly 20- and 30-something’s enjoying the festivities with favorite beverages in hand (there’s a bar and snacks). They were very raucous, resembling the audience in the old Capitol Arena in Washington, DC. Those serio-comic wrestling matches were my and a few of my brother-in-law’s TV introduction to professional wrestling. Eileen’s brothers like to tell stories about how they’d act out what they’d seen on television, which was only stopped by Mom after it got too rough. However, it always riled up their dog, Chip, who’d bark continuously, until he was put into the backyard and out of sight. However, he’d still keep barking as though he knew what was going on inside.


BTW - My favorite parts were the antics of the tag team matches – those of the managers and of the wrestlers. Here’s an example of one of these world championship events: The infamous “bad guy” Graham Brothers vs. “good guys” Antonino Rocca & Miguel Perez. The rules, if there were any, were frequently overlooked, not only by the performers but also by the lax referees. As you saw in the video, rules like, “only one member of the tag team was allowed in the ring at a time,” weren’t heeded. Even the “bad guy” tag team managers, like the Graham’s Bobby Davis would often enter the ring and join in the fighting. All of this was part of the show.


The Annual Punderdome Competition

There were two farts – (p)oops, I meant parts: the first featured teams of 2 pun-ers each, selected from a list of applicants who had signed up upon arriving. Four winners from this elimination round advanced to the finals. These 4 were paired with New York Post writers who, as they quipped, “Get paid to pun.”

The 4 teams were presented with copies of actual articles that ran in national publications and asked to come up with punderful new headlines. They had about 2 minutes to squeeze them out. Here’s the first one from a USA Today story:


First Story



Each 2-person team presented their first 5 gag lines and then, in the second phase, posted their second 5. Here’s what was excreted by the elimination round:



Second Story




With relish, the contestants topped off this story with these entries:



-->I’d welcome your own puntastic additions to these two stories.


Scatalogical humor - it's a gas, gas, gas (sorry, Mick)

Before farting, (p)opps, I meant parting, here’s a related movie scene from one of my favorite comic geniuses – Mel Brooks. BTW - It’s bean nice passing along some humor to you.


I just recalled this skit from the 1974 parody film “The Groove Tube” whose stars included Chevy Chase. Definitely what I’ve called male 5th-grade humor. BTW – film opened with this classic from Curtis Mayfield (awesome drumming!).


I was about to send this, when I wondered what other funnymen would venture into this sophomoric area…and Monty Python came to mind…and “Yes” there is a related clip. In fact, it’s a medieval version of the first Punderdome news article.

…and then there’s Steve Martin’s famous line in response to someone who asked him if he’d mind if they smoked…

…and an offering from the 1997 movie “RocketMan” – again the scene brings new “depth” to the movie’s name.


Fartman - the next Marvel superhero???

After I posted this, I came up with a suggestion I’d planned to send to Tony Stark for his Iron Man clothing line. It’s an idea for a flatulated auxiliary propulsion system. While it might not pass local greenhouse emission standards, it’s sure to fly under the radar and meet the “brownhouse” version. Taking this further, I might suggest to Marvel Studios a name for this new superhero – Fartman. After penning this, Google showed me, that once again, as wise man Solomon said many years ago, “There’s nothing new under the sun” (or under our shorts). Turns out, my idea wasn’t original. Apparently, it was used by both National Lampoon and radio “shock jock” Howard Stern (a Wikipedia article states that “he first used Fartman in July 1981, when Batman’s Adam West was a guest on his show, to which he made an impromptu Fartman outfit in five minutes, although the original outfit contained a toilet seat necklace which Stern later discontinued from his motif.”)

In odor to keep the rating at PG-13, I’ll only include a link to the Wikipedia article. You’ll have to find the videos on your own. I will however offer this very, very funny fake Marvel super-hero movie trailer. It continues to be a MARVEL-ous summer.


A more serious look at the implications of messing with nature

Hopefully, an organic version of Brown-25 can be developed for this potentially all-natural fertilizer. This is by far better than the carcinogenic crap Monsanto delivers via its pesticide products. I’m glad to see that public pressure via lawsuits has companies like Monsanto and Dow in a “Round Up” and is forcing our often covertly complicit government to make them pay for fouling our common nest with their crimes against our planet and its inhabitants - sentient and otherwise. Here’s a Wikipedia article that sums up Monsanto’s willful intent to bribe officials, manipulate public opinion and falsify records.


And now for something completely different (honoring the bawdy tradition of Monty Python)

As I was writing this poopst, I remembered a particular day from my high school years at Power Memorial Academy in NYC. It might have been in sophomore year. BTW - the two Greek roots that make up this word combine to mean “wise” “fool.” Definitely described us!

After school I joined some friends and crossed Amsterdam Avenue into a classmate’s apartment in the projects across from the school’s 61st Street address.

Someone had acquired a 45 rpm record of a farting contest that featured two contestants: Lord Wopperton and Sir Boomerton. An announcer described the action as each contestant assumed their positions at the farting post in the center of the ring. Much to our male delight, each round was filled with exaggerated sound effects. Prior to the start, the referee inspected each person’s trunks to be sure the vent hole was regulation - that is, standard size and shape with no added material that might enhance or amplify the sounds as nature intended them.



As the contest entered the final round, the contestants were tied. The tension built as the first man prepared for this sudden death “elimination.” He let some huge ones rip with gross sound effects, scoring lots of points, then returned to his corner. Next, it was the other guy’s turn. He scored a few points as he warmed up with some tweeters but he’d need a really big one in odor to win. As we stood around the record player, what followed cracked us up. Slowly, the last man standing began a monstrously huge explosion that seemed for sure to give him the win. But as we was finishing, we hear this squishy sound and the announcer says, “Oh no! He sh*t! He’s disqualified! And the winner is...


After some final laughs, I walked a few blocks to the 59th Street subway station and took the A train back to my home in Richmond Hill Queens. Funny, I remember this 57-year old event more clearly than most of what I learned in my classes. Looks like there are still a bunch of monkeys running around up there...





Tesla AI Enhancement

After I wrote the original post, I thought of a possible software upgrade that might allow me to trust AI. I was informed there’s a sweet bootleg version - a hack - called Sugar Magnolia authored by coders named Weir and Hunter and joined by a now deceased coder named Jerry, who can be currently located Truckin’ along on part of the information superhighway known as The Golden Road to Unlimited Devotion. (Note: In the spirit of Marvel, I chose an illustrated version of this fun summer song.)

(Deadheads: check out Robert Burton’s Youtube channel for more like this.)

Accordingly, the legend says the following about this intoxicatingly sweet female AI known by her code name “Sugar Magnolia”:

She's got everything delightful, she's got everything I need,

Takes the wheel when I'm seeing double, pays my ticket when I speed”

Wow! A two-for-one driving benefit! Might be better than those “Support Your Local Police” window and bumper stickers and PBA cards we flash after getting pulled over.

Here’s a funny one I found while penning this piece:



As I’ve said before, I love playing with language and am thankful I had a great teacher – my Dad. Without his bad influence, I wouldn’t have groan the way I did. I guess you could say, “I am my farter’s son.”

P.S. Thanks, also, to my two brothers for keeping the family tradition alive. And my sisters are no lightweights either. We are fartners in crime!

Wait a minute! I‘ve only included five songs in this post. Ah ha! I just thought of another one by the British songstress Flatula Clark. Spelled like that, her classic Downtown” takes on a whole new meaning.

Hopefully, you’ve groan accustomed to my sense of humor.


tOM


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