- POOP IN CHURCH: One day in the dazzling metropolis of Tullytown PA, a demure flower by the name of Sandralee Banks-Kastrup decided to cleanse evil spirits from the St. Michael the Archangel Church by sauntering into the sanctuary, squatting amongst the pews, hiking up her Dress Barn skirt and pinching a loaf. Convinced that the 528 babies she believed to be buried between the church and a nearby Dunkin Donuts were making the church an unpleasant place in which to worship Jesus, Ms. Banks-Kastrup's sensible and undeniably selfless act of turd-tithing was greeted with somewhat less enthusiasm than she'd hoped. Currently lounging about in an upholstered room at Nervous Acres and clad in a canvas cardigan with wrap-around arms, Ms. Banks-Kastrup insists she simply misinterpreted the meaning behind her favorite hymn, "Bringing in the Sheaves"
- LOOK AT THIS POOP: Michael Auclaire, principal of Peyton Elementary School in glorious Colorado Springs (the town in which Reverend Ted Haggard ministered to hustlers whilst engaging in meth-fueled ass-sex, and Reichen fantasized about writing a book about being raped by his fellow Air Force cadets), was disturbed. Some impish fourth grader had been terrorizing the student body by pooping with distressing lack of precision in the girls room. So Principal Auclaire put some poop in a bag and forced his students to pass it around and peer inside (presumably so they could learn what no child should leave behind). After news of his impromptu session of scatalogical show-and-tell was recounted around dinner table "so what did you learn in school today, honey" conversations, principal Auclaire admitted that forcing children to pass a bag of poop around like a reefer at a Woody Harrelson weenie roast was an ill-advised endeavor.
- THROW SOME POOP AT A CHILD: Meanwhile, in the retarded nation of Canada, another school principal (a charming woman by the name of Maria Pantalone) has finally found a new job. Last year, overcome by feelings of frustration (perhaps due to a student's inability to spell "Mississippi"), she hurled some poop at a child. Although we are still unclear as to whether the poop she tossed was her own or conveniently provided by nearby fourth grader, Ms. Pantalone is apparently performing well in her new principalship. We believe in second chances, and have no doubt Principal Pantalone is savoring the opportunity to work with children again, to look into their fresh, rosy-cheeked faces, and throw poop in them.
- THROW A CHILD AT SOME POOP: One day, in the gorgeous mecca that is Mpumalanga, a young woman catastrophically misinterpreted the meaning of "drop your kids off at the pool" when she tossed her baby into a South African poo pit. After the baby was de-latrined and rinsed off, the girl was arrested. In her defense she told the police that she fully intended to tell someone about it, eventually. Perhaps after doing her nails and shopping for a new dashiki. We admire her sense of urgency.
- I'M GONNA SIT RIGHT DOWN AND MAIL MYSELF SOME DOG POOP: Sometimes a gal just wants some attention. Meet woman o' God and retarded Englishwoman Reverend Janet Magee. In a desperate attempt to be noticed by her Methodist congregation, she took the logical step of repeatedly sending dog plop (along with the occasional dead hedgehog) to herself through the mail. It worked like a charm; Reverend Janet basked in the warm sympathy for quite a while, until the police secretly installed surveillance cameras in her home and caught her
redbrown handed, clubbing hedgehogs, coercing her pooch to squat over an open FedEx box, etc. (honestly, Vicar...some women simply take up needlepoint). Since the alarming discovery of her odd poop-terror-by-proxy disorder, her congregation's sympathies have noticably waned.
- "AND ON YOUR LEFT..." Residents of Providence rejoice! It's Rhode Island Water Infrastructure Month! October might mean beer and bratwurst to the Germans and dressing up like a scary vampire to Marc Anthony, but if you live in the teensy state of RI it means the sewer plant (much like Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory) throws open its doors for throngs of ecstatic children queued up for hours to get a glimpse of poop processing. Remember Augustus Gloop, kids! Stand back from that brown river!
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