Pictured above are the Giannakos family of Ontario. They shitstorm survivors. Literally. Last week, they were just sitting in their backyard enjoying some family playtime when the mother, Emma Gilfillan-Giannakos, heard what she described as a “loud splash” followed by tons of small, hard, brown pellets floating in her pool.
“I had no idea what it was. I thought maybe a rainstorm, but it only lasted a second or two … I stuck a finger in the water and I smelled it. It was poop,” she said.
This was no biblical plague. Turns out, the family lives dangerously close to Pearson Airport. Not making the connection? Yeah, me neither. Hint: have you ever wondered where your waste goes when you use an airplane restroom? I know I have spent a great deal of time pondering that very question. Keep reading »
Each summer, around the time that it hits about 90 degrees and 90 percent humidity, I walk by the public pool at the park in my neighborhood and contemplate diving in. I ache for a cool dip. But then I see all the children in the pool and first thing I think is, You can’t go swimming, there’s DOODIE in there. Perhaps I was scarred by watching “Caddyshack” too many times as a kid. I know it was just a candy bar, but I’ve never been able to rid myself of the nagging suspicion that there is real scat in my local swimming pool. Turns out, I was right.
According to a new report that will ruin public swimming pools for you forever, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention discovered that about 58 percent of public pools in the Atlanta area tested positive for fecal E.Coli bacteria. I can only imagine that these stats are consistent around the country, which means that most kids shit in the pool. Keep reading »
I feel that it’s my doodie to let you know about some of the crappy services that you might not have known existed on the internet. I hope you enjoyed all the puns in that sentence, because they were meant to foreshadow what I am about to share: you can purchase poop online.
For about $30, depending on the what kind of excrement you choose, ShitSenders.com will anonymously deliver your choice of cow, gorilla or elephant shit to the stupid ex, evil boss, annoying neighbor or asshole frenemy of your choosing. The site’s tagline says it well: “Has some one really pissed you off? Don’t get mad, GET EVEN. Send that special some one a big stinky pile of shit.” Keep reading »
This artwork you see before you in a 51-foot-tall inflatable turd sculpture called “Complex Pile.” The inflatable turd sculptor is named Paul McCarthy, although I originally read his name as Paul McCartney and was freaking out for several moments about how and when Sir Paul McCartney diverged from music to inflatable poop sculptures. I was having a hard time processing that. Let me tell you, I am relieved. Anyway, Paul McCarthy‘s other work included a giant inflatable ketchup bottle and a giant inflatable butt plug. Clearly this man is a genius. “Complex Pile” is on display in Hong Kong right now, if you feel like checking out a humongous shit. [Laughing Squid]
Deal with it, ladies.
And yes, I mean “ladies.” Because while there are many ways you are discriminated against in the office because of your gender — unequal pay, the glass ceiling, the boys’ club — but hiding your poop at work because you’re afraid what somebody will think about your bowel movements is all you. Keep reading »
A 500-page transcript from the 1969 Apollo 10 round-the-moon mission was recently released. Around page 400, the declassified log revealed that on day six, the mission’s three astronauts Tom Stafford, Gene Cernan and John Young were plagued by mysterious, floating poops. Here’s an excerpt of their close encounter of the turd kind below:
Stafford: Give me a napkin, quick. There’s a turd floating through the air.
Young: I didn’t do it. It ain’t one of mine.
Cernan: I don’t think it’s one of mine.
Stafford: Mine was a little more sticky than that. Throw that away.
Cernan: Houston we have a problem. Here’s another goddam turd. What’s the matter with you guys?
Either it was John Young, because he didn’t protest enough, or it was alien poop.[NBC News]
Searching for something to do with your old poop? Does flushing it down the toilet just seem sad? Perhaps you should consider a fecal transplant — give the gift of your poo to someone else. This sign was photographed at the University of Adelaide in Australia and sent to us by a reader. “Donors wanted: Our research needs your poo,” it says. “We are conducting research into faecal [sic] transplantation as a potential treatment for ulcerative colitis and we need healthy volunteer donations.” Either this is the ickiest research study ever done Down Under (yuk, yuk) or someone is pranking Dr. Sam Costello and Dr. Jane Andrews bad. [Thanks, LR52185, for the pic!]
A gem of a story comes to us today from Florida (natch), about a woman whose rage at her cheatin’ man led her to poop. On the floor. Brenda Schumann of Vero Beach, Florida, went to her estranged husband’s home with a rifle and found him in bed with his girlfriend. She threatened to kill them both, but hubby Donovan Schumann was able to disarm her. There was a brief scuffle, and then Brenda decided to pee on the carpet in the hallway outside the master bedroom. Later, she went downstairs and pooped on the kitchen floor.
And here’s the best part: When cops went to her home to arrest her for aggravated assault and domestic violence, she allegedly told police, “I found him in bed with a naked chick. What was I supposed to do?”
I don’t think it gets much more scatological than this.The 2013 Ladies of Manure Calendar is a “tasteful synergy” of sexy women and composting. It’s meant to support the Fertile Earth Foundation, which spreads the word about the eco-friendly practice of transforming your organic waste and “humanure” into “super rich black gold.” Put simply, it’s a $25 calendar filled with pictures of scantily-clad ladies getting their poop on. Either literally putting poop on their body, or sitting on the pot, or posing with toilet paper. They are serving sexy composting realness, as RuPaul would say.
But before you write them off as “crazy poop-loving hippies,” you might want to take calendar as an opportunity to rethink what you’re doing with your waste. (No thanks!) No one needs to sweep the forest. I didn’t come up with that line, the narrator of the promotional video for the calendar did, and I really liked it. I’ve included the video after the jump for your viewing pleasure. But for now, let’s look at Miss January taking a dump. Is this turning anyone on … to composting? [Gothamist] Keep reading »
For sale: 24-karat gold pills that “turn your innermost parts into chambers of wealth.” At $425 a poop, I mean a pop, your shit will be flecked with pure gold flakes when you swallow these luxurious vitamins.
“Like an addict, all I want is more. Like celebrity and celebrity culture, demand for luxury items is completely created,” said the designers, Tobi Wong and Ju$t Another Rich Kid, who originally created the pills as part of an art project in 2006. Wong has since passed away.
Sadly, something which it seems was meant to make us take a look at our culture, will now end up in the Kardashians’ toilet bowl. But maybe that was their point all along? Seeing as how the golden poop pills are temporarily out of stock, you’ll have to rethink your subversive Christmas list. [Daily Mail UK]