Department Of Agriculture

 

 

Lawn Mower

Department of Agriculture

Bulletin: No. 265

 

The Care and Operation of a Rotary Power Lawn Mower

 

The rotary power lawn mower is a boon to shiftless suburbanites whose lawns are full of Dandelion, buckthorn, and other weeds too tall for the conventional reel-type mower.  The rotary power mower however, is not an unmixed blessing.  Unseen sticks and stones, to say nothing of unburied rocks, will raise Hell with the blades.  So will nails, bits of wire, and other metal debris.

These problems fade into insignificance though, when compared with the unhappy result of running this type of mower over newly deposited dog shit.  Until you have had your shoes shined with pulverized dog shit, you cannot appreciate the extent of this problem.

Now cat shit, to be sure, smells far worse, but cats, as everybody knows, are more careful to cover up their waste than are dogs.  Moreover, cats do not shit as much as dogs, unless you have a very large cat, or a very small dog.

There are several approaches to the problems of animal excreta and the rotary power mower.  First, you could buy a dog, bigger than all the other dogs in the neighborhood, and train him to keep all the other dogs off your lawn, and also to shit on the neighbors’ lawns.

The obvious drawback to this method of combating the problem, is that one of your neighbors might buy a cow, and train it to shit on your lawn.  It has been estimated that a rotary power mower, operating at 3750 RPM can hurl a normal cow flap as high as a second storey window, and over an area of 5000 square feet.

Building a fence is a second possible solution, but it is expensive.  Also, it is no good unless you can train the wife and kids to keep the gate shut.  Then too, some dogs will jump the fence, even when full of shit.

There are various commercial preparations, sold mostly to evil-minded old ladies, which are supposed to stop dogs from screwing lady dogs on your front porch, pissing on your shrubs, and shitting on your lawn.  These chemicals are worthless however, since it is second nature for dogs to screw and piss.  A dog’s philosophy in life is, “Anything you can’t eat or screw, then piss on it!”

This then leaves three other possible solutions:

  1. Let the God-damned weeds grow.
  2. Move into an apartment, and use the mower as a fan.
  3. Wear only brown shoes when mowing the lawn, and associate only with people who either don’t mind the smell of dog shit, or are too damned polite to mention it.

**********

 

Having previously told you what it’s like when you create a little odor, this is what it’s all about when you really get down to business

 

THE DUMP LIST

 

GHOST DUMP

That’s the kind where feel the shit coming out, have shit on the toilet paper, but there’s no shit in the toilet.

 

CLEAN DUMP

The kind where you shit it out, see it in the toilet, but there’s nothing on the paper.

 

WET DUMP

The kind where you wipe your butt 30 times, but it still feels unwiped.  So you have to put some toilet paper between your butt and your underwear, so you don’t ruin them with a brown stain.

 

SECOND WAVE DUMP

It happens when you’re done shitting.  You’ve pulled up your pants, and then you realize you have to shit some more.

 

BRAIN HEMMORAGE THROUGH YOUR NOSE SHIT – or the – POP A VEIN IN YOUR FOREHEAD SHIT

The kind where you strain so much to get it out, that you practically have a stroke.

 

RICHARD SIMMONS SHIT

The kind where you lose 30 pounds.

 

CORN SHIT

Self explanatory!

 

LINCOLN LOG SHIT

The kind of shit that is so huge that you’re afraid to flush the toilet without breaking it into a few pieces with the toilet brush.

 

DRINKERS’ SHIT

That’s the kind of shit you have the morning after a long night of drinking.  Its most noticeable trait is the tread marks left on the bottom of the toilet.

 

“GEE, I WISH I COULD” DUMP

It’s the kind where you want to shit, but all you can do is sit on the toilet, cramped, and fart a few times.

 

SPINAL TAP DUMP

That’s the kind where it hurts so much coming out, that you swear it was leaving you sideways.

 

WET CHEEKS DUMP – or the – POWER DUMP

That’s the kind that comes out so fast that your ass cheeks get splashed with toilet water.

 

LIQUID SHIT

That’s the kind where yellowish-brown fluid shoots out of your butt, splatters all over the inside of the bowl, the whole time burning your tender anal sphincter.

 

MEXICAN FOOD DUMP

A class all its own

 

PHOTOGENIC LOG – or – GUINNESS RECORD DUMP

That’s the kind that is so huge that it stands out of the water and waves at you.  You remove the toilet paper, grab a camera, and take a picture for the World Book of Records.

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It’s Only Fair

First, I attended the Multicultural Festival.  All I had to do was eat and ogle, for both of which I am eminently over-qualified.  Then I had to expend a little more energy to transport the daughter and her stuff, and set her and her friend up for the Cherry Park Festival.

Friday night, the city held its annual cruise night.  They block off six blocks of the main street, centered on the city hall, assemble three hundred antique cars at the big park, and have them do a drive-past to their assigned spots.  Antique to them is anything over twenty-five years old.  Antique to me is anything older than I am.  I don’t want to see a Bondo-filled example of some rusted-out piece of crap I had to junk.

Sadly, there were only two Corvettes, neither of them the scoop-side model that I adore, but the newer StingRay.  There were some older vehicles. The oldest was a 1902 something whose name I don’t remember.  Back then, there were lots of tiny little companies which made a few cars a year.  Ford was the first to install the assembly line.  It’s like the local Bob’s Motors, a real name to conjure with.  Would you buy a car from a place called Bob’s?  Some people do.  I see the occasional licence-plate ring.  Or the German-named Wunder Car Sales.  I think his motto is, “If you get a good car, it’s a Wunder!”

Sunday, the daughter and I went to another Free-Thinkers’ meeting, more on that in a later post.  The first time we went, the city was having a Car-Free Sunday, and the entire main street was closed to traffic.  The handicapped lady had to hobble two blocks to the venue.  This  Sunday they merely closed off three blocks and lined up tables in an attempt to set a Guinness record for the longest/largest picnic.

Saturday I transported the daughter, her friend and all their stuff to the big park and helped (?) set them up for the Anti-Violence Festival.  It’s held on a wooded island.  The daughter’s gazebo tent and a couple of other, unprotected displays were the only ones to be in the sun most of the day.  The Liberal Party suddenly packed up and left about 2 PM.  Maybe they got too hot.  Maybe they had to rush off to buy another vote.  Attendance was poor, perhaps because of the heat.  Once you got there, under the trees, it was nice, but the getting there was hot, hot, hot!

Again, commerce was the unifying factor, but both the sales and community-service displays were a little more towards the “hippy, tree-hugger” end of the social spectrum.  Booths included Bahai, Sexual Assault Support, the YM and YWCAs, Healing Gemstones, Hatha Yoga, the Liberal political party, who bailed early, Transition K-W, which is a bit like the Unlearn group, teaching new ways to conserve and preserve water, air and land.

There was the Qigong Oasis teaching oriental ways and thought processes, a Ride-For-Cancer sign-up booth, some mostly organic-type, snacks and drinks, and a booth teaching meditation.  The local Aids Awareness group was there trying cut down on bullying and harassment of gays.  The Barterworks group was there, and a group called Time Banks.  They trade services.  I fix your toilet, you repair his car, he shampoos someone else’s carpet, and so on, and so on.  The Conservative party was not represented, but the NDP was, as well as the save-the-environment Green Party.

The Human Rights people were there, as was the Right To Vote group.  That surprised me.  I thought that everyone, of-age, in Canada had the right to vote.  There was a booth promoting the upcoming Link Festival, which is like the Multicultural Festival, just without all the food.  I saw Dollars and Sense, a monetary reform advocate group, World Without Wars, Earth-Friendly Living and Hope Stream.

I picked up a lapel button which reads Imaginez La Paix, which means Imagine the Peace, in French.  The French are serious about peace.  The only country which has surrendered more, and faster, is Egypt, during the Six-Day Israeli War.  Put down the guns, put up the hands.

There was a group called Fair Vote, which is a proponent of proportional representation.  They don’t think it’s right that any political party which garners only a few more votes than its opponents, gets a majority government, while, for example, the Green Party gets a million votes, but only one seat in government.  They had a huge bowl of wrapped caramel candies that they urged people to take.  Once you’d peeled the wrapper off, you were supposed to vote for one of the three main parties by dropping the wrapper through one of three labeled holes in a sheet of Plexiglas.  When you did that, you saw that every wrapper wound up in the same shiny galvanized garbage pail with a sign that said, “That’s where all your votes go.”

On Saturday, as we were doing Anti-Violence, our twin city up the road was holding an AfroFest.  Next week, in our big park, there will be a Craft Beer and Ribsfest.  On the 28th, in a smaller park, nearer to us, is a Croatian FoodFest.  There’s food and foreign culture from all over the world in this city.

The Link Festival is in early August, and, in early September, there will be a Word On The Street Festival, with book sales, free books, learn-to-read groups, and lots of other Printed S**t.  There is a small WordsWorth bookstore downtown, and three book exchanges/second-hand.  The entire family are friends with two of the proprietors, with me going back 45 years, five locations and three owners, at one.  I imagine we’ll all turn out for that one.  Among the three of us, we have almost as many books in this house as the smallest of the three stores.