Bedbugs and Ballyhoo
November 28th, 2006
My neighborhood is under some sort of poop siege. Three of my neighbors are in this ridiculous war over whose dog is pooping in everyone’s yard. Or rather, which neighbor isn’t picking up after their dog, and honestly, who the hell cares? It’s the pit bull, and we all know it, for we see him relieving himself all over the neighborhood on a daily basis. Can we all move on?
Except no, we cannot move on. Someone is picking up a bunch of dog poop in the neighborhood and randomly leaving it on doorsteps overnight with a note that says, “Is this your poop, asshole?” Because nothing says “Good morning!” like a giant Publix bag full of someone else’s dog’s poop, asshole! It would be better if they at least had the creativity and drive to light it on fire or something, like a poop bomb, but no! It’s just a bag of poop with a note. And I think I know who it is, but everyone thinks it’s a different person, and so the bag, it has been passed around angrily, and filled on top of the old poop, and by now the poop just has to be gross, just GROSS. I mean, even grosser than it was the first time. Because it’s old. Old dog poop in a bag, what a wonder of delight!
I have yet to receive the Asshole Bag, because I’m pretty diligent about picking up the poop. However, Sunny pooped three times on one walk tonight – TWICE – and I ran out of bags after poop two – BOTH TIMES – and really, I wouldn’t be surprised if the steaming Asshole Bag appears on my doorstep tomorrow, because even though I tried to run like hell (the first time) and mask the event by shouting loudly (the second time): “Sunny, it looks like you pooped, but you DID NOT ACTUALLY POOP! What’s going on with that? Why didn’t you poop? Why did you squat and not poop, silly girl?” Meanwhile, she totally pooped, but maybe the yelling distracted someone into thinking it was innocent? Maybe? Or maybe I’ll just get a steamy bag in the morning. No one is sure.
Honestly, other people’s dog poop really doesn’t faze me, but I do get my knickers in a wad when I’m strolling down the sidewalk, only to be greeted by a giant pile of steaming dog poop in the middle of where my precious feets touch down, because really? They can’t pick it up off the sidewalk? And whose dog doesn’t prefer to poop on grass? Kick it to the side! Get it out of the way! MOVE THE POOP.
I actually can’t believe when this is over that I am actually going to hit ‘publish’ because my God, we have resorted to dog poop, and general rambling with absolutely no common theme and/or purpose, but the Asshole Bag, it looms large.
The lack of activity, common theme or continuity is because we’re still sick and extremely drugged. Sick, extremely drugged and breathing through our mouths, which is just about the most unattractive thing a person can do. Mouthbreathers wear polyester turtlenecks and forget to shower and usually have pencil erasers hanging in their hair, but today, I am a mouthbreather, except I am not wearing polyester, although my pants do have a certain synthetic quality to them. But – BUT! – I am on lots and lots of Robitussin (well, Wal-Tussin, if I’m being honest, because I am apparently cheap) and tomorrow I can almost guarantee that I will forget to shower and I might have hunks of Kleenex hanging in my hair, which might count and also resemble eraser bits.
Incidentally, I woke myself up approximately 11 times this morning with my incredibly loud Snores of Honk – I kept hearing this loud, horrible horking sort of honky noise and I assumed (oh God) that there was a piece of construction equipment digging into the bathroom. And of course, I ran in there to find out if someone was excavating our bathtub, because why else would there be some sort of warning horn in our bed? They were ripping out the bathtub, and I need that bathtub, if only for the precious steam it gives off to bring forth the snot to its rightful place outside my body. And when I discovered the bathtub wholly intact, my relief was indescribable! Just indescribable joy at the sight of a whole bathtub! My excitement was short-lived, however, given that I had awakened Adam, who heard the honking, and asked me to leave the room in the form of prodding elbows, heavy sighs and loving pillow-punching in an attempt to get me to roll over and quell the honking.
And so I slept in the guest room, where I will likely begin my evening tonight. But I will be in fancy pajamas, honking my pants off.
And uh, oh my God, I actually hit ‘publish’ and this is just so, so awful. I’m so sorry. I should have thought better of this, but I am on drugs and cannot be held responsible for my actions.
*Echo and the Bunnymen
**We changed her food and she had a little bit of an issue. And I TOTALLY would go back and pick it up, except that it’s dark and I can’t find it, honest. I deserve the steaming bag. I do. ::hangs head::
Entry Filed under: Nuttin'
20 Comments Add your own
1. Orange Peacock | November 28th, 2006 at 8:21 pm
Don’t apologize. Entries like this are why we love you.
I’ve heard steaming eucalyptus oil helps clear up snotclogs. So if you have that laying around, it might not make you quite as trippy as copious amounts of Robitussin.
2. wordgirl | November 28th, 2006 at 9:17 pm
Pick it up or don’t pick it up. Just promise you’ll write about it later.
3. -R- | November 28th, 2006 at 9:43 pm
People leave poop on the sidewalk? Now THAT deserves the Bag Of Horror. But leaving a surprise third poop on the grass? Not a big deal.
4. Amanda | November 28th, 2006 at 9:50 pm
This entry made me laugh out loud, all by myself in my living room, a total of five times. Poop is funny. And so are you.
5. Lawyerish | November 29th, 2006 at 7:34 am
No apologies necessary. You’re charming as ever, and we’re all on the edges of our seats to see if you get the steaming bag of poop. I hate it when the dog goes more than once on a walk!
Conveniently, though, we have bag dispensers at either end of our block, attached to signposts, although I’m so afraid of the Poop Nazis in our neighborhood that, when I find myself out of bags and have to use the dispensers, I literally RUN there and back, yelling all the way, “I’M JUST GETTING MORE BAGS! I’M GOING TO PICK IT UP, I SWEAR! LOOK! GOING TO THE BAG DISPENSER NOW!” And we don’t even HAVE an asshole bag.
6. TwoBusy | November 29th, 2006 at 8:02 am
Just think of this as a magnificent opportunity to fulfill your dreams of Woodward/Bernstein investigative journalism… and solve, once and for all, “The Riddle of the Poop.”
7. Sadie | November 29th, 2006 at 8:03 am
OMG, I live nowhere near Florida but I am pretty sure I am going to get one of those steaming Asshole Bags any day. My dog usually only poops ONCE on a walk and so I bring ONE bag and God, when he poops twice I am seized with horror and also stealth and we slink back to the house after multiple scans of the street to identify whether there were any witnesses we have to kill.
There ARE certain houses on the street, though, where very mean angry people live and I make sure not to let Mikey anywhere NEAR those lawns because I don’t want to die.
8. Jamie | November 29th, 2006 at 8:27 am
I once got accused by a neighbor of leaving Doc’s poop out on the sidewalk adjacent to our building. I asked to be taken to the spot in question, and when we got there, there was the largest steaming dumper I have ever seen in my life — almost the size of horse dung. I confidently informed my neighbor that it was impossible for my dog to have produced that pile, and walked her up to my unit to introduce her to my 20 lb. dog.
I haven’t seen her since.
9. Christine | November 29th, 2006 at 9:02 am
I think the Asshole Bag is hilarious.
And I hope you feel much better soon, because I hate when I cannot breath. It’s just awful…
And also? I buy Waladryl. Feel better.
10. Leah | November 29th, 2006 at 11:58 am
Fellow mouth-breather here just piping in to say that the picking up of the poop is why I will never ever ever never have a dog.
11. Her Bad Mother | November 29th, 2006 at 12:29 pm
But, if you do get the Asshole Bag, just think of the fantastic posting possibilities. A whole shit post! Huzzah!
12. Paula | November 29th, 2006 at 1:24 pm
“Asshole Bag.” Hahahaha!
13. jes | November 29th, 2006 at 1:58 pm
You should know that I snore, snore often, and can’t claim sickness as an excuse. I wake up at least twice nightly to Roger gently rocking me, and that is only because the first time he tried waking me? That time with a jab from his elbow to my stomach? HURT. And I let him know it. And he has reformed.
14. Jurgen Nation | November 29th, 2006 at 10:10 pm
My favorite post. I love poop. Not poop physically, but talking about it. And I’ve so been that person walking the dog – WHO HAS TO POOP NO LESS THAN 5 TIMES ON ONE WALK – out of bags, either looking around surreptitiously or doing as you did, only with: “Oh, GOOD BOY, Jurgen, to go PEEPEE outside!”
I identify so much with this.
15. Meepers | November 30th, 2006 at 1:02 am
I’d just like to say that:
a) this is one of the reasons I don’t have a dog b) I walked my friends’ dog on Sunday and he pooped TWICE, despite my bringing the bag-holder thingie on the leash (empty) c) I totally just ignored the pooping/poop/la-la-la.
Maybe I should have the poo-bag?
Also D) I love. that. song. Mr. is decrying U2 right now for their copying of E&TB.
16. Allison | November 30th, 2006 at 5:07 am
2 comments: When we still had a dog, I don’t know that I ever picked up the poop. There are like a zillion houses for sale in our neighborhood, so I just made sure he pooped in the yards where no one lived.
And, yesterday, I was swigging Walborne all day.
17. Piper | November 30th, 2006 at 7:30 am
Uh-oh, my boss just came in to see what I was laughing at… hehehe
You shop at Publix? Where are you, I’m in G’ville (and I think Publix is pretty limited to the very south east)
18. Suebob | November 30th, 2006 at 2:06 pm
I probably should not admit this in writing, either, but discretion has never been my strong point. I have actually gone out with a pooper scooper and cleaned up random dog poop as penance for the times when I have had Miss Goldie out and have not been able or willing to clean up after her. Psychotic? Perhaps. But I do think it qualifies me for an automatic exemption from the Poop Asshole bag.
Snoring? I wake myself up snoring on a regular basis, mostly when I nap in my car at work. I hesitate to imagine how lovely I look, sprawled in my hot car, mouth agape, honking away.
19. Jonniker. » Paint I&hellip | May 2nd, 2007 at 6:36 pm
[...] Speaking of clean: I’ve discussed my neighborhood’s frustratingly pervasive poop wars before (incidentally, the Asshole Bag is still in full circulation, although I believe the originator has been outed), but what’s bothering me is that there are some – nay, there are MANY – neighbors who don’t want my dog pooping anywhere near their yards, even if I clean it up. Now, this hardly seems fair, given that postage stamp-sized lawns are the norm around here, and unless I feel like circling Sunny in a two-inch radius, screeching, “Sunny go POOP?” over and over again, I’ve got to walk her. Is this reasonable to anyone, and if so, for the love of poop, why? [...]
20. Jonniker. » Lonely &hellip | May 28th, 2007 at 5:43 pm
[...] Does anyone remember poop wars? To briefly recap, in retaliation for neighborhood dogs pooping in yards that are not their own, a few of my neighbors have been passing around a bag full of old dog poop, depositing it on the doorsteps of suspected dog-dropping offenders during the night. I have come to refer to it as the Asshole Bag. [...]
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