Main Poop Analysis 2017
January 2018
Dear POOPster:
It’s the end of the world as we know it . . . please help me I’m falling . . . don’t they know, it’s the end of the world . . .
nuclear error but I have no fear. . . just a few lines from songs that have assumed the stature of existential dread in the past year. Lately I feel that the whole country is drowning and I / live by the river. So, do we need POOP right about now or what? So with that as impetus, I present the 31st annual musings of the POmpous and OPinionated. Remember when WE were the self-important bloviating blowhards? Ah, nostalgia. To the 25 pompoids who have contributed this year, it’s time to break out the tiki torches and behold the collective pith amid the pandemonium. And if I’ve offended anyone with my political vitriol, to you I say, “Go deep. I’ve got some paper towels for you.”