Posted on 04/30/2020 8:40:39 PM PDT by Daffynition
Sometimes, humanity gets me down. But then I watch a video like the one below about a Maine woman who makes art from moose poop and I cheer right up.
Because when it comes to genuinely fresh ideas these days, there don't seem to be that many. But a clock made from cervid scat? A (very) real Poo Poo Platter? Now that's a new one.
The idea is the brainchild of artist Mary Winchenbach, who finds the moose leavings in the woods around her house in Maine. So yes, this is a very local product.
(Excerpt) Read more at mnn.com ...
Hey! Mother's Day is coming. I can only hope. :)
No. Just no.
Well, that’s crappy.
Perfect example of reality meeting crap, producing sh!t viewing.
I’m very interested in the topic, but I don’t want to see any related pictures. It takes all kinds, as many have said.
Freud would have a field day analyzing this artist.
No desire to see an old dike making crap out of crap.
I must have missed the delightful part.
I suppose someone could hide their stash in it. Because whos going to nose around in there?
Moose Turd Pie
Bruce “Utah” Phillips
The worst job I ever had was working for the Pacific Railroad, doing a thing called “gandy-dancing.” Now most of you know the railroad was built partially by Irish labor. Well, back then the workers would use this long handled shovel, made by the Gandy Shovel Company of Great Neck New York. Well, they’d shove one end of the shovel under a railroad tie, and then run out to the other end of the shovel, when they could find it, and do a little jig on it, and they called it “gandy-dancin’”. This would lift the tie up so they could shove gravel under it, which would level the roadbed, so when the train came along, it wouldn’t tip over, which would be a real drag for everyone.
Well, nowadays, they run three cars out on the rail: a bunk car, an equipment car, and a mess car. The only thing they don’t give you is a cook. The bosses figure you’ll find out who the best cook is, and use him. Well, they were wrong. Y’see, they just find out who complains the loudest about the cooking, and he gets to be the cook. Well, that was me, see. Ol’ aligator mouth. That was the worst food I’d ever had, and I complained about it. Things like “dog bottom pie” and “pheasant sweat.” I thought it was garbage. So I complained. And everyone said, “alright, you think you can do better? You’re the cook.” Well, that made me mad, see? But I knew, that anyone who complained about my cooking, they were gonna have to cook.
Armed with that knowledge, I sallied forth, over the muddy river. I was walking along, and I saw just this hell of a big moose turd, I mean it was a real steamer! So I said to myself, “self, we’re going to make us some moose turd pie.” So I tipped that prairie pastry on its side, got my sh*t together, so to speak, and started rolling it down towards the cook car: flolump, flolump, flolump. I went in and made a big pie shell, and then I tipped that meadow muffin into it, laid strips of dough across it, and put a sprig of parsley on top. It was beautiful, poetry on a plate, and I served it up for dessert.
Well, this big guy come into the mess car, I mean, he’s about 5 foot forty, and he sets himself down like a fool on a stool, picked up a fork and took a big bite of that moose turd pie. Well he threw down his fork and he let out a bellow, “My God, that’s moose turd pie!”
“It’s good though.”
Speaking of which, there are probably more moose than people in the upper half of the state. Start opening back up, Governor Karen Mills!
DANG!
When I heard that joke it was with lumberjacks. It was good though.
They’ve done this in Alaska for years.
The lady said it;s tird......rhymes with bird. :)
Yes.
Drive on any unimproved road in Maine, and start collecting. They’re everywhere.
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