This Week in Poop Part 16: Poopteen Candles

• THE POOP SPITTER OF HUNTINGDON: An inmate in the Huntington Country correctional facility is being brought to trial on criminal harassment charges. Why? Because a year ago, in what was apparently an interactive performance art piece designed to underscore the plight of our nation's incarcerated, Anthony Gray swallowed some of his pee and poo immediately before being ushered into a room with three corrections officers. He thereupon proceeded to barf his pee and poop into their faces. His audacious performance was ill-received. One hopes the misunderstood artiste has since discovered either a non-fecal means of expression, or Scope.
• TYRA'S TOILET TIPS: As Bobby Brown proved when, on national television, he related the enchanting tale of how he crammed his arm all the way to the elbow up Whitney's butthole in a chivalrous attempt to dislodge a jack-knifed turd (and also, we presume, to search for that missing crack pipe), Americans have a deep fascination with the bathroom habits of prominent negroes. Always one to capitalize on a fad, Tyra Banks has graciously shared her secret tips on how to squat in a public facility without endangering your butt or your panties. Her unashamed willingness to talk about such topics apparently emboldened a misguided contestant on "America's Next Top Model" to make pee-pee in a pair of adult diapers in a decidedly odd attention-grabbing gambit. Because as Marc Jacobs or Karl Lagerfeld will tell you, urine is the new black.
• RUSSIAN SPACE TOILET ON THE FRITZ: Zero gravity has many advantages. One may do the hippity-dippity Moonraker-style, for instance. Girlie-boobs and man-boobs are notably perkier. But the astronauts currently confined to the international space station for a months-long assignment are learning the downside of weightlessness because their Russian-made toilet is all broke and stuff. When a space toilet is defunct, jiggling the handle doesn't do the trick. These are complicated pieces of equipment, which whisk extra-terrestrial pants plop into special holding tanks (which, once full, are presumably jettisoned to plummet into Bangladesh or Tuscaloosa or some equally malodorous slum where no one's likely to notice). Now that it's broken, the space folks have had to think of new and inventive ways to drop the kids off at the pool, as they are all eager to avoid the unpleasant notion of wrangling a herd of turds as it drifts into the lab. These are the ultimate "floaties." We now ask the obv: why did we put the toilet in the hands of Russian scientists? Didn't they give us Chernobyl, the Kursk, the Mir and Uri Geller? They even took a diverting game like roulette and made it decidedly unpleasant. If it were up to us (as we rather think it should have been), the Russians would be in charge of Vodka detail. And maybe they could have been responsible for the dressing used on space salads. But that's it. Thankfully, the last shuttle mission included what's likely to be the most expensive plumber's appointment ever. Send the bill to Putin (pronounced "poo-tin"). 
• THE PORT-O-POTTY SWIMMER OF LEBANON: One hot day in the dazzling metropolis that is Lebanon PA, a 31-year-old gentleman decided it would be a good idea to lock himself in a port-o-potty, remove his clothes, and go for a swim. Unfortch, his blithe dip hit a snag when the poor schlemazl got stuck. He was somehow able to reach his cell phone (kids, if you're going to swim a few laps in an outhouse, always bring your phone; a safe poo-swimmer is a happy poo-swimmer), whereupon the fire department was summoned. After his thrilling jaws-of-life rescue, the scrappy gent was charged with public intoxication and creating a public nuisance. No word yet on whether the prosecutors intend to charge him with being a nasty-ass bastard.   
• DRESSING FOR SUCCESS, THE CHARLOTTE WAY: Meet Artive Freeman. The 24-year-old gentleman is currently representing himself in a murder trial now underway in gorgeous downtown Charlotte. On the first day of trial, Mr. Freeman entered the courtroom in a nicely tailored suit and tie. He had also smeared his own poop all over his face and hair. Taken aback by Mr. Freeman's copropheliac grooming habits, the Judge questioned whether Mr. Freeman was maybe a tad retarded (ya THINK?), and ordered the nice young man to undergo a psychiatric evaluation. Perhaps he's learned that rich folks are enjoying nightingale poop facials in the world's most exclusive spas. Alas, nightingales are frightfully rare in maximum security. The resourceful gentleman, making allowances for his complexion, bunted.
• THE POOP TRIAL OF LOS ANGELES: In other news of legal/fecal (lecal?) intrigue, one Ira Isaacs is about to go on trial for obscenity in Los Angeles county (isn't that like prosecuting a man for being an alcoholic in Dublin?). The prosecutor has promised to torment the poor jurors by subjecting them to Isaac's cheeky oeuvre, which includes fart fetish movies, classy bitches taking turns giving it up for a donkey, and (most importantly) pooping on each other. Although Mr. Isaacs has expressed worry that the jurors will send him to prison for being nasty, others suggest that since his LA-based video business does a killing, at least some of the jurors will be forced to sit through their second (third, fourth, fifth, etc) viewing of "Hollywood Scat Amateurs No. 7" (more widely known as "Hannah Montana").