I have always had aspirations of owning a farm. For now, though, I am relegated to my back yard. I have set up a small garden area where I grow squash, tomatoes, radishes, etc. Next to that I have several rows of corn. I used to use a Native American technique which is to add a small fish (a guppy or something similar) to the seed hole thus introducing a burst of nutrients from which the plant can feed as it grows. Kinda like the original Miracle Gro. This, however, started to get a little tedious as my garden grew larger; plus I was decimating the population of my kid’s goldfish bowl as going back and forth to the local pond for more guppies got to be a pain in the ass. So, I had to come up with a solution. “D’uh!” I said to myself. I could just go and buy some fertilizer or manure from the garden shop in town.
The manure worked out great but it started getting pricey. Then one day, I was sacrificing butt babies to the porcelain god, when I flushed the toilet, it clogged, and started overflowing. “Aw fuck!” I shouted as the toilet gushed forth like a geyser pouring onto the floor of the bathroom and immediately out the door. The chocolate river ebbed and flowed through the hallway, then across the hardwood of the living room on its way to the kitchen. I panicked and grabbed one of my cats, knocking it unconscious by whacking it up against the wall and dropped it in front of the tide of turds as an organic sandbag to slow it, but it was no use. I figured if I added more cats I could halt the rush of shit water so I started whacking cats against the wall like their species depended on it. Five unconscious shit soaked felines later and the deluge still just continued right around them. I thought to myself “If I only had more cats! Fuck!” The surge of fecal fluid trekked across the glued down squares of linoleum flooring in the kitchen and headed for the screen door in the back. I could only sit there in disbelief as the river of rank finally exploded through the mesh of the screen door leaving solids on one side and a liquid colon cocktail on the other to flow down the steps. Finally, one of my cats regained consciousness and, remembering it’s emergency flooding training, ran to the bathroom, gripped the toilet input water valve wheel with its teeth and rightee tight-eed it. The flow at the bathroom end had ceased. The business end of the tsunami of shit, however, concluded its path of destruction in my garden by flooding it completely.
All I could do was let the waters of the newly formed Lake Shitticakapupupeepee drain into the ground over the next couple of days. I threw my hands up in frustration and avoided the garden for a full week. Upon coming back to till the soil, rip out dead plants and start the garden fresh, I noticed that not only were my plants not ruined; they were flourishing. The squash and radishes, despite a brown hue, looked amazing. The tomatoes looked like plump ebony goodness and the corn like…well; it looked like really good corn; with corn on it. That’s when it hit me! Why the fuck am I paying for manure when I’ve got it for free right here!? In fact, apparently, my shit is so bangin’ that if I can get a garden to look this good, I could even sell this stuff. So that’s what I did; I sold it. I started eating a loaf of white bread and a multivitamin every day then followed it with a Metamucil chaser to speed things along. I was a human fertilizer assembly line. I had it down to three hours between shits and thanks to all the white bread in my diet it came out in perfectly firm logs ready for plastic wrapping. I call it Rusty’s Miracle Loaf. They are selling like hot cakes and on top of that I get Government tax breaks for falling under the Green Business Initiative. So, I get paid and veggies get made. Ain’t America great?!
