Poopie Pete doesn't share my self-loathing. See item 3 for more about him and his shameless pals.
With a single, classy exception, today's total post is regrettably turd-related. How far I have fallen. I've got to take a shower and slap some sense into myself.
1) There is a new Carnival of Couture at Style Tribe today, and the question was provocative: What was your most significant, personally meaningful fashion purchase? There were a lot of ways to go with it and the answers are great, but I couldn't pick one thing in my mind or understand why. Fiftyrx3 conveys some of my issues:
Hmmm, I am feeling as though I have way too many clothes stuffed in my little closet to pick one thing that was most significant. In some ways it is like asking a world traveler to pick their favorite destination. There are many good answers for a variety of reasons. Is it the pareo I wore almost every day, ten different ways while sailing one summer? Or that bias cut little black linen dress that has been with me to the mountain tops of Oaxaca, Caribbean beaches and rooftop dinners in Barcelona? I have personally bonded with those items, but, while they were versatile, I couldn't really say they were pivotal. Or is it one of those gifts from a special person, your boyfriend's t-shirt or the securtiy [security-sic] blanket aspect of the favorite sweatshirt I am wearing right now? So, you see, I found this task a little daunting.
Read the rest of the thoughtful answers, too, reading here NO FURTHER if the scatological is disharmonious with your disposition or constitution.
2) To show the insufficiency of current cleaning in his facility, in December, the NHS blog doctor put a plastic dog turd under his desk. It's still there, but thank goodness there are expensive computer training programs for cleaning crew and risk tiers to assign levels of acceptable filth.
3) Artist Anna Chambers not only has a blog, with photos of her doodies out and about, but also an online shop for her custom-crafted plush poops with lovingly-appliqued corn-kernel smiles. See to believe.
4) R.I.P. to Buck Owens who with Roy Clark formed the Rowan & Martin of Hee Haw, though with infinitely more musical talent. However, I also keep remembering how a friend often unattractively compared Mr. Owens (and crooner Andy Williams) to "turds with eyes." You know who you are, friend. Thanks for ruining an otherwise respectful mental tribute.