Saturday, February 19, 2011

Friends, Romans, Countrymen! Lend Me Your Pee!


WARNING:  The following contains more than the recommended daily allowance of parentheses, to include liberal uses of the words “pee” and “poop” (and variations thereof).   People who are easily offended by questionable language may wish to discontinue reading.  Or they can just lighten the frig up.

First, a short RECAP:  Last week, in Modern Medicine, I recounted my efforts to soothe cracked heels with a concoction called Heel Balm.  The ointment, while ultimately effective, contained something called “urea,” which I thought sounded strangely familiar.
    My fears were later confirmed when I checked the dictionary and saw that “urea” is made from mammalian urine.  Essentially, pee.
    So, even though I now have a pair of heels which would make me a shoe-in (no pun intended) for “Dancing With the Stars,” they come with a disturbing cost:  feet lathered in piss.
   Wow.  Now that I look at the above, it wasn’t such a short RECAP, after all.  Sorry about that.

    Over the course of the past week, you lucky few who are followers of mine (talk about winning the lottery, huh?) have been treated to several lively debates over the relative merits of using bodily waste to treat skin disorders.  I was even informed that I could have merely urinated on my feet to save me the cost of heel cream and prevent any manual contact with the offending substance.
    Unfortunately, I neglected to read that part about peeing in the shower.  My neighbors are still pretty hacked off that I peed on my tootsies while in the backyard.  “Oh, oh, don’t you eat that yellow snow!”
    Then I read a comment from BlackLOG (it was only tonight that I noticed his blog name has the word “BLOG” in it.  He’s very clever and I’m a dunce.). 
    Unsolicited Plug:  BlackLOG’s blog can be found at http://the-blacklog.blogspot.com.  Check it out.  It’s well worth a look and, if nothing else, he has a cool video jukebox which automatically starts playing when you click in.  Why not?  Don’t cost nothin’.
    Anyway, he reminded me that the Ancient Romans used urine to clean their togas, since Irish Spring hadn’t been invented yet and only pussies-like the Visigoths-used Wisk.
    According to BL (can I call you “BL?”), well-to-do Romans sent slaves around to collect urine from townsfolk in an early type of recycling program (his description, not mine.  I wish I could claim it-it’s pretty funny).  After collecting a pissload (as opposed to the eminently more offensive shitload), they brought the buckets back to the washing area (I’m thinking it wasn’t in the main house).  Whereupon they handed them off to another group of slaves (who else but slaves would even do this?  There apparently was no “Slave Union”).
    These slaves, called “Fullones” (from which “Fuller” is derived.  If you know anyone with that name, go ahead and tease them-you’ll probably piss them off.  OK, THAT pun was intended), proceeded to mix the pee pee with water into a noxious cocktail in bigger vats (called Urinarium Terrariums.  Well, probably not.  But, it sounds cool, don't it?).    
    They then hiked their tunics to their knees (well, I would hope so), tossed in the soiled togas, called sorditas (or gorditas.  I’m too lazy to Google it), and proceeded to stomp away like Lucy in a grape vat.  Only they weren’t making wine.  Finally, the aristocratic clothing emerged sparkling white, if a tad pungent.
    Not only did the senators impress other fragrant patricians, but the fullones had the softest feet in the empire.  “Win-win,” if you want my opinion.
    Too bad about the lower-class Romans, though.  They had to settle for washing their tunics in poop.
    Of course, in that day and age of no central air and the aforementioned lack of soap (let alone AXE bodywash), no matter where you went, it was like the monkey house at the zoo.
    No wonder the Roman Empire fell.
    I remember something similar which happened to me.....ok, not completely similar.  But, it did involve pee.......
    When my baby brother was still a...baby forty years ago, it often fell on me and my sister to help mom out with changing the little drape ape.
    One such morning, as I got ready for school, my mother asked me to change his early-morning pissy diaper.  Even though I would have much rather preferred hauling my bowl of Cocoa Puffs over to the TV for a little Underdog, I knew better than to give her a hard time.
    She had a metal spatula and wasn’t afraid to use it.         
    Anyway, I placed the little wriggler on the changing table, removed the plastic pants which covered his sodden diaper (this was a few years before plastic Pampers), and bent down to retrieve a dry set of clothes.
    Unfortunately, I let go of him and he proceeded to roll right off the table.  Like a veteran outfielder, I scooped him up just before he hit the floor.  Cradling his body against my chest, I placed him back on the table and changed him.
    I considered myself something of a hero, despite the fact I was the knucklehead who let him go in the first place.  I reminded my friends in school how I had saved my brother from injury or possible brain damage (he did that all on his own in college).
    As the day wore on, though, and the heat climbed in the classroom, I started to smell something a little funny.  At first, I thought it was Richie Serilla next to me.  He usually smelled like cabbage.  But, no, it wasn’t him.
    I bent my head and brought the front of my shirt to my nose.
    You guessed it.
    I could have used that shirt for my heels.



OK, that's probably all the laughs I could get from my feet.

11 comments:

  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

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  2. Thank you for the Unsolicited Plug* Penwasser Place (you can call me BL as long as I can call you PP, which is fairly apt considering today’s topic) , much appreciated, especially when it comes from one of my favourite recent finds.

    As for clever, not so sure about that – a bit mental more like (I seem to get strange visions from what people say/write, which 99.9% of known life on this planet don’t get, even after I have explained to them slowly and embarrassingly loudly. The remaining .1% grin manically and dribble a lot more than is considered acceptable in polite society )

    As for the Blog title, thanks for noticing, you are very much in the minority (possibly in the .1%, please try not to dribble on table, Mrs B can be a bit funny about that) . Since my surname is Black the title BlackLOG just fell into place…. Face it a short sited hamster with learning difficulties could have put the B & LOG part in capitols, just before sticking its head inside a rather hungry cat, in order to have an intimate (if short) discussion about where the cats next meal was coming from….

    * Your Cheque is in the cheque book or you can have cash. Just take your card to the nearest ATM and draw out as much as you like….Don’t worry I can afford to be generous with your account.

    A couple of areas I particularly liked are
    They then hiked their tunics to their knees (well, I would hope so),
    I would have thought the bright ones would leave the tunic down, thus getting a free clean for the lower part of their apparel

    and proceeded to stomp away like Lucy in a grape vat. Only they weren’t making wine.
    While it might not have been wine it might have been a forerunner of Bud light

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  3. On an almost related subject I have been checking out some VIZ top tips (not sure if you get VIZ in the states, but I'm sure you would love it) I thought these were fairly apt for the blog topic...

    HOUSEWIVES: Before attempting to remove stubborn stains from a garment, circle the soiled area with a permanent pen so that when you remove it from the washing machine you can check the stain has gone.

    Avoid arguments with the missus about leaving the loo seat up by simply pissing in the sink.

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  4. Ain't it grand how much mileage we can get from urine?
    I'm not going to admit to pissing in the sink when I was in college. But, I'm not NOT going to admit to it, either.

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  5. Great blog love pimping.

    And my favorite t-shirt is a picture of the great pyramids of Egypt and says "Slavery Gets Shit Done". I always get funny looks when wearing it.

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  6. That's cause they wish THEY had thought of it!

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  7. you just want to make sure we all know just how un-fresh & un-clean you are, don't you? with your piddle shirt, pee feet and foot funk hot tub. can i come over & hang out with you guys?

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  8. Yeah, I make myself out to be a real hottie, huh? "Sorry, girls, he's taken!"
    Wait till you see the motivational picture I'll be sending along sometime after my Presidents Day post (which is written, but I won't post it until Monday).
    It's like fine wine that way. Or feet.

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  9. This post is really getting me pissed off!

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  10. "only pussies-like the Visigoths-used Wisk." - You are too funny. I'll have to remember not to eat while reading your blog. My food's starting to smell like pee.
    xoRobyn

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  11. @Eva: As long as your clothes are clean, that's the important thing.
    @Robyn: But, the key thing is....did you pass milk through your nose? "Nose blow" is the mark of comedy that I most strive for.

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