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A dangerous and mandatory evacuation man the poop deck


A dangerous and mandatory evacuation – man the poop deck!


Ha!

Human (rat) race doomed!

Foregone conclusion hashtagged,

linkedin, predicated, et cetera, cuz

overactive derrière of yours truly

(no names mentioned, nor fickle

finger of fate pointed), and writer

of these words and one among many

riders (he adores) on the storm –


referring to brewing, looming, and


quaking potentially severe economic


fallout shattering The "debt ceiling"


or "debt limit"recommends ye dear


unknown (anonymous) readers bid


thee toodle loo to civilization


and its discontents.


So much for hyperbole!

How axiomatic, ironic, quixotic, zoologic


that thee unavoidable rectal urge occurred

while in the midst of writing about that

vitally important bodily function, which

for any other Tom, Dick or Harry would

be safer endeavor at least within their home.

That margin of err rear harmlessly doth

NOT exist within the rented domicile

of this twenty six plus years a married

(lighthearted) middle aged man.

What requisite non-forceful,

essential, dutiful call visiting

the potty to purge the body electric


of supposed waste matter

(quite efficient machine Homo

Sapiens anatomy), regarding

said expelling solid, loose, liquid...

thru anus ought to rank as


minimally risky private business.

Imagine matter of fact saunter

to the loo fraught with Uriah heaps

of danger that could imperil

the very existence of (in this case)

myself, and the rest of humanity.

Upon attempting to amble


very short distance, (perhaps

half a dozen paces), an

immediately deleterious,

hellaciously luminous, and

perilously serious threat

(unsurpassed even by hooliganism


signature destruction forever

enshrining Gothic or Vandals –

if such peoples lived today and


occupied this apartment unit),

loomed as a far more impossibly

harrowing mission any combination

of maximum strength (Excedrin


would be superfluous) supposed

major natural disasters all rolled

into one frightful maelstrom.

Oft times the powerful need

to relief thyself disallows any

preparation H(abiliments), thus I


am forced to make a quick dash

to the toilet, BUT between

the cozy comfort of this easy


chair and the durable material

designed to suction even the

baddest, biggest, boldest BM


belies a trail and mountain

far more of wicked bewitched

crossing then say the now defunct


Fukushima Nuclear Power Plant.

Though this comparison may seem

like an exaggeration, the higgledy

piggledy hewn heap of fetid foul

fermenting faecal matter poses


dangerous, death defying diabolical

(DO NOT ENTER) dump.

No other option existed for me

to eradicate, expel, exorcise, et

cetera potential fecal matter except

to strike out toward barrier reef

of noxious, odoriferous, pestilential,

queasily revolting sky high (declared


SuperFund Site) to enjoy simple

pleasure, whereby Gluteus Maximus

dispenses with human toxins.

The urge to let loose a stool sample

overrides any time to pen loving

note to surviving family members,


which (two darling grown daughters

seem like foreigners (or survivors

on a desert island) as each precious

Punim pursues autonomy countless

miles, whereby the eldest then

a Junior at The University of Pennsylvania,

and the youngest offspring plane

and simple sailed about seven


years ago to become

seasoned student abroad.

Though a tenant at this subsidized

(and quite agreeable accommodations

nestled within Perkiomen Valley,

Pennsylvania), no exaggeration necessary


to describe daily cataclysm perchance

spelling doom and downfall of this

dry husband and loving father to deux

progeny, who would hate to leave said

special offspring behind under

the sheltering sky.

Thus every onset to traipse

so few feet to flush out


thine flotsam and jetsam,

(when stream of urine sprays


like a hose) to pay obeisance

and homage to modern


plumbing, the flash of mine

lxiv years zips thru me


memory, particularly when

carefully, gingerly


lumbering ridiculously slow

(lest mishap finds ambulance

siren wailing destiny of this chap

(most likely pronounced

dead on arrival), whereby tell tale


sigh of turgid tummy

would automatically inform doctors

that obstruction preventing quintessential


rear supply tubby

undisputed venal wickedness.

Tis at unstoppable twitches

to defecate, (which sharp

saber rattling rectal spasms)

denote common urgent irrepressible

need arising within bowels),


when mental gallows humorous arises.

Such an embarrassing ending

(post eerie er) demise re: conclusion

to my rather ordinary life – (visa vis

being constipated, deprived

or hindered freeing offal,

would put to shame “windbag”

i.e. google as proof positive

of blocked means to eliminate waste).

Also in tandem (though very

slightly tangential to above

distressful horrible likely presentiment,

this xMan bemoans being

swept off my yam bic pent


tam meter feet (literally)

by gigantic hands of she

(thee divine Gaia, who now

scatters defecated detritus

damning ability to access

commode constitutes reflection

on remaining Norwegian

Bachelor farmer from Lake Woebegone.

How trajectory of one measly

mortal primate webbed


whirled wide eyed schleps

along boulevard of broken dreams

(he may as well live planets,

galaxies or universes apart

worlds) ever shared

an intersecting vector

with another continues

to confound this crossword puzzler.

Again that sneaky sobriquet

irony doth mettle with


steely goatherd drivers

goes Pasteur homo, where gin


till lit tee lives.

Long story short described below.


Circumstance found this then

quite content solitary


son of the soil invited

to admirable, estimable, inimitable


estate listed as “Glen Elm”

within National Registry of


owned properties within

Collegeville, Pennsylvania.

Garrison Keillor slated guest of honor.

He possessed je nais se quois

ability to tell tall tales,

whereby audience members

became rapt with seduction,

usurpation, and wide eyed yearning

to lean in so as to hear the suspense,


which increased in magnitude

in direct proportion as

his home spun voice became softer.

Unbeknownst to this

poor country bumpkin, when


he took bathroom break

during impromptu intermission,


a gal in her mid thirties

livingsocial with her parents


within the Mainline

(very wealthy enclave of residents


within southwestern Montgomery

County, Pennsylvania)


agreed to follow Jewish tradition,

asper prearranged marriages.

Though neither of Semitic peoples,

nor the least bit familiar

with one of the oldest Religions,

thee family, whose youngest daughter

hinted of spinsterhood, their


open minded kindred ideas

generated exception to


dictum remaining steadfast

to pinpoint “a nice Jewish


Kosher Boy”!

As frequent attendees

at this Leiper Mansion and


storied magnet for literati,

the accidental chance encounter


found thyself and unfamiliar gal

(fate decreed as thy bartered bride)

happened to be awaiting use of water closet.

As tends to be the predilection

of so called fairer gender sex,

this petite and attractive dame

introduced herself, which subsequently

found us becoming more


curious about the other.

The natural order of two

heterosexual individuals


(one male, the other female)

allowed basic instinct of


attraction to engender

fledgling friendship, that quickly


leapfrogged into

a sexually intimate dalliance.

Without any precautions

qua birth control inevitable


outcome of hitting

the figurative bullseye linkedin while


listening to the rhythm method occurred.

This reality determined

tepid reception courtesy

future parents in law to marry gal,

whose youngest daughter's

future child I fathered.

Even from this fairly commonplace

getgo dynamics wildly described

along seismograph of 10.00 earthquake,


one category 5 hurricane,

and an F5 tornado thrown in


for good measure for measure,

these tidbits totally hyperbolic,

thus equal much ado about nothing relative


to the interpersonal juxtaposition

of our quite rapid tête-à-tête,

that continues (to much lesser degree –

analogous to subsiding

storm of the Century 21) to this day.

After surviving approximately

two and a half dozen plus years,


(the marital inflictions

unquestionably more harrowing,


strangulating, and threatening

life and limb) battle scars


(many broken bones begot

by innocuous shuffling to


bathroom) populating neary

every square inch of this


ordinary chap deserves a medal of honor.


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Book: Shattered Sighs