Tuesday, November 8, 2011


The other morning, I got on the 39, as I often do these days.  I sat down, as I often do when I get on the 39.

As I sat there, I shifted my foot and realized that there was something slippery on the bottom of my shoe.  I shifted my foot again.  No doubt about it.  I had stepped in the mother of all dog poops.

I discreetly sniffed the air and could detect no odor of "dog's droppings."  Whew.  I made sure not to shift my foot again for the rest of the trip.

If you don't understand what this picture is doing here, please don't trouble yourself about it.
When I got to the TRAX Station, I hurriedly wiped my shoe off on a friendly patch of grass, only to see . . . an entire apple core, smashed flat from mine and others' abuse.

Utterly bemused, I made my way onto the train.

P.S. Sorry for the really lame pun in the title.  I figured it was better to have a lame pun as a title than something about poop.