September 15, 2010


We are simple creatures, you know.

Not quite amoebic, but still simple enough an organism to be able to enjoy things that higher beings might find off-putting. Such as, oh—I don’t know, listening to the uncomplicated music of an AC-130 firing its door-mounted howitzer. Or feeling the soft warmth of a rack full of fresh Krispy-Kremes as they disappear down one’s gullet. Or the wry smile brought on by a particularly piquant quip by Moe as he coyly slaps Larry and Curly across their faces with a sledgehammer.

And speaking for myself, there is the overwhelming joy of being able to stand (fully-clothed no less!) whilst conducting emiction. I don’t really know why, but it is satisfying in the extreme to stream satisfyingly into various vitreous porcelain basins, or even upon the random campfire.

Science (SCIENCE!) tells us that Men, being what we are, are biologically driven to produce things, and this is one of those things where we can produce abundantly, and several times a day (depending on bladder capacity and beverage selection), and receive immediate satisfaction. Almost as soon as we can stand and deliver the goods in early childhood, our productive output is met with cooing words and applause from our progenitors. Although this tends to diminish in adulthood, we still have a sense of great satisfaction once we have completed the task at hand.

And not only is this ability oh-so-keen in and of itself, men everywhere will confirm that there is even greater fulfillment when there’s actually something to ‘shoot’ at, as it were. We are overjoyed at the opportunity evinced by the presence of bits of paper or lint in the receptacle and we can pretend to be just like that big AC-130, blasting furious death from above onto the poor unsuspecting objects below. O! and heaven help us all should it be something ANIMATE! A stray fly or ant becomes an imaginary MiG fighter or scurrying grenade-tosser to be dispatched with extreme prejudice!

So then, imagine (after all of that build-up) what it must have been like for me the other day when I sauntered into the men’s room at work, unzipped, and just happened to spy hiding under the rim of the urinal, a small, thin, leaf-green, grasshopper!! “YEE-HAW!,” I thought to myself (since yelling such things in a municipal government men’s room tends to attract the wrong sort of attention) “I am about to have some FUN!”

Over and above the usual fun, that is.

I prepared myself carefully for the upcoming ambuscade, and ever so deftly began the slow dance of liquid annihilation.

It was at about that same moment that my intended target decided it best to act like a grasshopper, and, well, you know—hop.

I'm not sure why this was such a surprise to me, other than the fact that I'm an imbecile, but the sudden counterattack made me let out something of a girly "Eeek!" sound and begin firing in earnest in an attempt to keep the foul beast from rising up and devouring me like a blade of ripe rye grass, all the while doing a set of wild, dance-like gyrations intended to keep myself from being set upon by the monster, but yet keep most of the payload flowing into the receptacle.

I thought I had the upper hand until he managed to get above the rim, and so my freaking-out went into high gear. Unfortunately, my ammo supply was running out. Quickly.

I won’t bore you with the remainder of the details, although obviously, I did survive this run-in. And I think I might have learned something.

Don’t pee on grasshoppers unless you’re loaded up with napalm.

Posted by Terry Oglesby at September 15, 2010 08:01 AM

And that, sir is why Possumblog is great. or would be, if you were still writing it.

Incidentally, do you know how complicated an oatmeal-based spit take is?

Posted by: skinnydan at September 15, 2010 08:10 AM

::bows:: Thank you, sir. And yes, if only I were still able to blog...but, alas, it is futile to make such wishes.

As for oatmeal-based spit-takes, I've never done one, so I'm not sure about the complicationedness of it, but I imagine it's not nearly so complicated at the clean-up process.

Posted by: Terry Oglesby at September 15, 2010 08:23 AM

Let's just say a hazmat suit is only a small part of the cleanup process.

Posted by: skinnydan at September 15, 2010 03:04 PM

Are you sure that was oatmeal, then!?

Posted by: Terry Oglesby at September 15, 2010 03:07 PM

Sigh. You tease you. This makes me long for the days of much Possumblogginess.

Posted by: Jordana at September 15, 2010 03:14 PM

If things go as I've been led to believe, you'll get even less when we lose 2/3 of our staff to early retirement, and I'm left with myself to do all of our division's work.

Posted by: Terry Oglesby at September 15, 2010 03:26 PM

This post Sir, ranks up with your 1863 post on 16:1. I salute this keen observation on the Male of Homo Sap.

Posted by: Chef Tony at September 27, 2010 10:48 PM

1863 post on 16:1? I must admit being puzzled by the reference...

Posted by: Terry Oglesby at September 28, 2010 07:16 AM

Your post on ball vs corn powder for use in field arty is the one... or maybe the one on Horace Greeley's call to Mae West about her Badness being Good & the ratio she used? I'm confused now as I'm old and worn out by my niece staying with me, teen girls do that you know & Rachel is very good at it.

Posted by: Chef Tony at September 30, 2010 11:58 AM

OOooohhhhh, THAT post! [slowly backs out of room]

Posted by: Terry Oglesby at October 1, 2010 10:39 AM