Mr. Blog's Tepid Ride

July 14, 2014

Recently, Here Comes Honey Boo Boo aired this episode:

Yes, that actually says “Alana tries to find out who’s not flushing the toilet.” Just when you think TV can’t get worse, here comes Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.

But who am I to complain? More people watch those hillbilly creeps than read my blog, so maybe they have something there. And regular readers of this blog know that I’ve done more than my fair share of posts about toilets (put “toilet” in the search box above and see what I mean) so who am I to act all stuck up?

It has been some time since I pandered to the lowest common denominator. It has been about two weeks since The [CENSORED] From China, and it doesn’t get much lower than that.

Hey we all poop. Everyone poops! I poop, you poop, Lois Lerner poops and then denies it, even former Canadian Prime Minister Sir Charles Tupper (May 1896-July 1896) pooped, and he was quite the distinguished personage.

So take this as a warning, your last chance to look away and surf the web for porn, before I jump into my true tale of a mysterious public poop.

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The Hound of the Poopervilles.

There is a giant dog haunting the moors surrounding my ancient family estate the parking garage at the Company I Am employed by. I’ve never seen it and as far as I can tell no one has, but we know he’s there nonetheless. It is a feeling we get, a strange sense of something, a primal knowledge that all humans seem to share in times of danger.

But mostly we just see giant piles of shit in the parking lot.

Really, it seems more like a dinosaur took a dump than a dog. A passing stegosaurus maybe, but a dog? No way. Not even your lazy dogs that just eat all day could work up a pyramid like that.

“Dogs in a private parking lot? Must be a guard dog.” I’m sure that’s what you are thinking but no, we have no guard dogs here.  And while this parking lot is underneath my building, it is only partially underground. Using logic that is totally unnecessary for this silliness, that means that it is also partially above ground. Three of the sides are open to a gently sloping hill which leads up into the surrounding neighborhood, with only a short fence to provide what laughably passes as protection. Add that to the two entrance and exit ramps which only have a single bar to keep cars out, and animals not at all, and you can see how easy it is for some large dog to slip in.

Car thieves too, I’d guess.

Anyway, is there some huge neighborhood mastiff that likes to poop in the shade leaving giant piles around here?  And they are always in the same place, on the walkway just outside the east entrance and placed almost perfectly to step in. And they stink like you wouldn’t believe.

This is a job for better minds than me. I’m calling in Alana from Honey Boo Boo. She has experience with poop mysteries.

Tags: Andre Morell, animals, bmj2k, Canada, dogs, garage, Here Comes Honey Boo Boo, Honey Boo Boo, hound, Hound of the Baskervilles, imponderable, Lois Lerner, mastiff, Mr. Blog, Mr. Blog's Tepid Ride, Mr. BTR, parking lot, Peter Cushing, poop, Prime Minister, Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Poop, Sir Charles Tupper, The Company, TLC