PooPoo

I paid seventy dollars per pound for a very small jar of caviar. I dropped it on the tile floor in the kitchen. It shattered. The pieces of glass and tiny fish eggs scattered across the floor. In a flash, the cat was on the job lapping up caviar. The expensive caviar passed through the cat in the ordinary manner and appeared in the litter box. It looked just like the same stuff the cat makes from ninety-nine cents a can cat food. A mighty emperor's fabulous feast is no different from a poor peasant's porridge. In the end, you can't distinguish between used escargot and used oatmeal, except the oatmeal may have a less offensive odor, but each is just another pile of poopoo, feces, doodoo, crap or whatever you prefer to call it. Sagaverus 2004

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