I go places. I do things. I listen as often as possible and I interrupt far less than I used to. It’s a pleasure, being out and amongst the peoples, not to mention that it is the field from whence I glean any number of perplexing ideas not my own.
And just the other day a conversation with my friend Sarah revealed something I had not previously considered.
She told me, over ice water (her) and a pale ale (me) that one of the men at her Condo Board Association Meeting last week wanted everyone to know that he had 40 fifty-pound bags of kitty litter in storage.
You know. For 2015, when “it all goes down” and the water is no longer running.
For “waste management”, as he put it.
Let us now pause and consider the Condo Board Association on their way to the litter box, newspaper tucked under their arms.
“’Mornin’, George.”
“’Mornin’, Ralph.”
You know, it’s a question I hadn’t previously considered, but now that I have, I have my concerns.
Just where will us city folk poop when The End comes and the facilities of the porcelain variety become elaborate and impractical kitty-litter holders?
It does give one pause.
Not that I consider The End much. There was, of course, the Millennium, the misnamed year that was to see the computers unable to digest the numbers “00” and send us back to a simpler, more kitty-litter-free time. People I thought I knew bought guns, ammunition, and sought real estate with defendable hilltops, while I personally bemoaned the upcoming loss of summer-time ice.
It’s not that I don’t believe that the End is Near. For some, it is; and for me? Well, it certainly could be. Of this I remain unaware, which is as I like it.
Until then, I shall continue to go places and do things.
Because there’s a lot of funny ideas out there.
And just the other day a conversation with my friend Sarah revealed something I had not previously considered.
She told me, over ice water (her) and a pale ale (me) that one of the men at her Condo Board Association Meeting last week wanted everyone to know that he had 40 fifty-pound bags of kitty litter in storage.
You know. For 2015, when “it all goes down” and the water is no longer running.
For “waste management”, as he put it.
Let us now pause and consider the Condo Board Association on their way to the litter box, newspaper tucked under their arms.
“’Mornin’, George.”
“’Mornin’, Ralph.”
You know, it’s a question I hadn’t previously considered, but now that I have, I have my concerns.
Just where will us city folk poop when The End comes and the facilities of the porcelain variety become elaborate and impractical kitty-litter holders?
It does give one pause.
Not that I consider The End much. There was, of course, the Millennium, the misnamed year that was to see the computers unable to digest the numbers “00” and send us back to a simpler, more kitty-litter-free time. People I thought I knew bought guns, ammunition, and sought real estate with defendable hilltops, while I personally bemoaned the upcoming loss of summer-time ice.
It’s not that I don’t believe that the End is Near. For some, it is; and for me? Well, it certainly could be. Of this I remain unaware, which is as I like it.
Until then, I shall continue to go places and do things.
Because there’s a lot of funny ideas out there.
23 comments:
There are so many things I've never pondered. End time pooping is now off that list.
Exactly. We here in the hinterlands know very little, and that is the way we like it.
Hari Om
...now I have an image embedded which needs flushing away... YAM xx
As I always say....what you don't know can't hurt you. Besides, I like surprises.
Even if The End never come(even though humanity seems to be doing its best to make it happen in our lifetime), having a bucket or two with trash bags and, perhaps, some kitty litter is a good prep for all kinds of disasters wherein (love that word, also whilst)public utilities suddenly stop working.
Ah, the eternal question: Where to poop, where to poop?
It's amazing how often we fail to recognize these little things.
Let others figure out the pooping-place dilemma. I will be stockpiling musical instruments for those all-night parties we'll be having once the lights go out.
:-)
"funny ideas" - You're way more generous with your descriptors than I would be!
Thanks to Leenie, I get it. You have to 'splain this stuff to me.
Delightful, Pearl! Without water, people would just have to quit pooping, like they did before plumbing --untidy habit anyway.
I prefer to remain unaware as well. It's for the best, I think. Hope you have a great weekend, Pearl! :)
Not a thought I want to dwell on. I really, really don't want to share the facilities with Jazz n Jewel (anymore than I do already).
You know, I see that as the least of my problems. I want to know how I'm going to keep my beverages cold in the summer!
This post was funny as many of your posts are
I'm rather sceptical about many of those "funny ideas" I'm a wait-and-see, carry-on-as-usual type.
I was thinking that 40 times fifty is a rather big, no large, number.
I think I will print out instructions on how to build a good outhouse...or steal one of those porta-potties!
It sounds like the condo board member is hustling for power. Will he be named Lord of the Potty?
I know a family member who has food stored. I don't want to tell him it expired in 2007. I might tell him about the kitty litter.
I saw a show on tele the other day about this .
The end of the world has been on the cards since I was born and thats not yesterday.
If it comes it comes there is a pretty good chance we will not all survive so someone else might eat all your stored food or use you kitty litter, who knows.
Live for now no one can tell the future.
Merle...................
SOACM- "Republican Potty chairman"?
I wonder if the survivalists KNOW how funny they are...
Oh no! Know you've got me thinking about this! I don't mind digging a hole and using it, but I'm not going to do it in kitty litter. I think I need to spend more time in the desert where finding a spot, is never a problem...
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