Doo Doo Theory {Shit Theory, Fecal Matter Theory, Etc.}

  One time a bunch of us were hanging out at Shorty's Bar, getting fucked up.  We had been fishing.  We were rowdy, talking loudly, and there was a guy by himself at the end of the bar, by the television.  He was watching the news.  Suddenly he yelled up at the tv, "It's all shit!" "It's all fuckin shit!"  Everybody looked over, but my buddy Howie went over to him and said, "Sir, I couldn't agree more, it's all shit!" ...and raised his glass.  The guy bought him a shot and a beer.  Then he started buying rounds for everybody.  It turns out he was the local Justice Of The Peace.  You know, the guy in the robe that sentences people for public drunkenness and petty thefts all day.  It's all shit.

   So the theory is then, that it's all shit.  Everything is shit.  That's it, Fort Pitt.  Every molecule, every atom, except the ones in space, and the ones very deep in the ground, has been a part of something's fecal matter at some point in time.  Your atoms, my atoms, dog atoms, cat atoms, cockroach atoms... Water molecules... Leptons, Muons, and Quarks, oh my! And the rare & elusive Higgs Boson, even...  Maybe.  All has passed thru something or other's digestive system at some point.  It's just a chemical reaction.  It's all a process.  Everything is shit.

   I made shit in a plastic bag and tied it up and threw it in the trash can on more than one occasion.  Ain't nothing but a thing.  Folks throw poopy diapers in the trash all the time, baby shit, adult shit, what's the difference?  Shit's shit.  Ain't it?  Now I'll admit, one place I lived at, I had no running water, so shitting in a bag was a routine thing, and pissing in jars, coffee cans, buckets, whatever. Sometimes it was crap in a bucket, piss in the bucket, take the bucket out to the railroad tracks and dump it. And I had a girl that would stay over sometimes.  She wouldn't shit in a bag.  She shit on the side of the house, and under the trestle.  Once I lived in this place where they cut the utilities off.  We ran a hose from next door, til they rented it out.  Then we shit both toilets full to capacity, and moved on to shitting in the backyard.  That's what you do when you're dirt poor and on drugs.  Fucks given: Nada.

  So I like to shit at home, where my ass feels comfortable, the toilet seat knows my ass by name, and the occasional cat audience...  But sometimes I'm at work, and I gotta go shit in the woods.  You gotta do what you gotta do.  Once I shit in a plastic flower pot behind a bush next to a house, then I put the pot in a trash bag and it went on the truck with the rest of the trash.  Bye.  Nobody need be the wiser.  Not that long ago I had to shit bad.  I had to go down over a hill, down a ravine, to the stream, to get out of visual range of houses.  When I shit, it was projectile explosive diarrhea.  ...With a big gas bomb fart propelling it.  It blasted the rocks and into the nice pretty little stream.  That right there is why I always grab extra napkins from Starbux.  Gotta do what you gotta do.  It is what it is.  It's all shit.
 
  So, you shit, it goes down the sewer, it goes to the shit plant to get processed, and gets made into fertilizer, which someone uses to grow tomatoes, which get eaten and turned back into shit.  Or you shit outside, something eats it, something else eats that, on up the food chain.  Eventually it goes back to shit again.  Voila.  Everything is shit.