You Dirty Dawg!

I stepped on dog shit today, and I consider that as one of the worst things that can happen to a human being. Ok, not the worst thing, but way up there in the top ten. Good thing it wasn't before a date, or an office meeting, or a job interview, or a frikking piñata; it was actually after work. I got home, dig out of my laundry basket a pair of jeans, got a [clean] tee shirt, a sweater, my Dr. Marteens and went to do my thing. After a couple of stops here and there, I was on my way out and being the lazy boy that I am, I cut through the front yard instead of using the sidewalk. The grass was wet due to the sprinkler system but as I was wearing boots, it didn't matter. Until I felt something softer than wet grass.

I knew immediately that it was dog poo. You can tell that the surface under your shoe feels softer, like the shoe slides sideways a little bit, and when you lift it there's a little resistance, like if the dog poo wants to give you some more luv. And of course the sole of my boots is not flat, but has all this texture to it, so the shit just gets in there and I bet you it just feels like home because it is a fucking difficult job to get it out of there.

But to step on shit is OK: I mean if you're hiking and you step on a big turd that's cool; by the time you finish your hike that shit is gona be either gone or you're gona be smelling like shit, so that makes no difference. But to have to jump on your car and get that awful sensation that every single particle of air has been poisoned and filled with that smell is just nerve breaking. Some scientist should look into the chemical structure of dog poo and isolate in an equation the secret that allows such sharp odor to stay in the air for so long. Then he should apply that to some fancy perfume. I can even hear the add on the radio "Wear it on Monday, and you can still smell it while in church on Sunday morning. Buy one get three free".

But stepping on dog shit is all right, it could have bean a mine or a bear trap. The real torture is to get all that shit out of the shoe. And that fucking smell, good fucking Lord, that smell. It takes long time to wash the sole with hot water and bleach and detergent and more hot water and use a scrub that at the end of the ordeal is gona end up in the dumpster anyway just to get around 70% of the shit smell out of the shoe. And even though winter has been FINALLY hitting southern US with a nice and chilly wind, I end up sweating like a horse trying to get rid of all that poo.

And wass up with dog shit. What did they feed dawgs that make their shit smell so fucking bad! And don't even want to think what that poor dawg that left that Christmas present for me on the wet grass had been eating. I know that dogs eat whatever the fuck you put on their plate [sounds like my eating habits actually] but most of the time they eat this concentrate that comes in colors as natural as purple and blue. I think I've never eaten anything blue, other than candy. Poor dogs, not in vain the food in my high school's cafeteria was refer to as "dawg food". And the thing is that that dawg poo attached to my shoe killed the night tonight; and I'll be damn but tonight was suppose to be Live Music Night! Was, in the past, because it is not.

I gave it some thought and I remembered that I have stepped on dog shit FOUR times in my life, two of those here in CLT! What a shitty town, my friends, this where cool Jean-Francois currently inhabits. . .