And now for my 4,000th post

Yikes!

Yikes!

Yikes!

This is the 4,000th post from Le Café Witteveen.

Can you believe it?

Bear witness. Bow. Clap. Boo. Hiss.

I don’t care.

At the time of composition, this blog has been hit 219,182 times.

Most of the hits came from John A. Davison, but who’s counting?

I realize what a milestone this is, and I don’t want to piddle it away on some fruitless nonsense.

So for this post, I’m going to pose a question, which I think you should take very seriously when you deliberate over the matters of belief and non.

Here’s my question.

Are you ready?

Are you?

How ’bout now?

If god is all-knowing and just, how come he didn’t list pooping, flatulence, vaginal and penile odors among the list of “curses.”

Did he think these were “good” things?

Pain during childbirth, he didn’t foresee modern-medical loopholes, now did he?

Toiling the ground? I found a loophole as did a zillion corporate workers.

Ha, I’m not cursed! Tina’s not cursed!

We got out scott free, bitches!

But shitting, farting, and crotch odors are a curse that continue to this day.

And I find it dismally obvious that no one has addressed this yet.

Please advise.

Excuse me while I go celebrate 4,000 posts … 

Pope Mohammed and Flowery Flatulence

“Before humanity fell from Gollah’s graces,” says Pope Mohammed trailing off. His voice echoes against the wall of the public restroom you’re sharing. He is washing his hands. You are on the other side of a stall door sitting on a toilet listening. On the stall door in front of you, it reads, “Have a nice poo.”

“Before humanity fell,” Pope Mohammed repeats. “People’s flatulence smelled like newly-cut flowers and freshly-squeezed lemons.”

Beside you, the stall wall reads, “Satin Rules” around a drawing of a five-sided star.

Pope Mohammed tugs several times on a paper towel dispenser. You listen to the rustling of paper against his skin as he dries his hands. Your pants are around your ankles.

On the other stall wall, it reads, “I feel like this is the only real mark I’ll make in the world.”

Pope Mohammed says, “After the first man and woman disobeyed Gollah, Gollah cursed humanity’s body odor forever.”

If you had a Sharpie, you decide that — underneath “Satin Rules” — you would write, “It’s a nice fabric and all, but I don’t know if it rules.”

Via

Selling Talulah’s goods and services

If I could bottle Talulah’s farts, I could sell them to the US Military as a lethal weapon.

She provides a seemingly endless supply. Each one smells worse than the last.

Maybe I could work out a deal to contract her out. With each lethal carpet bombing fart, she offers the sweetest puppy-dog eyes to lour in her prey.