Pegging the Gross! meter.
"All the way to eleven."
So it's dark. It's still a warm evening so I'm in shorts & sandals. I'm walking to my pickup, crossing the parking strip, when I feel something strange & pliable under my right sandal and immediately feel the spray/squirt of something up to the knee on my left. We're not talking a spattering of morning dew, but as if a heavy squirt gun had let loose, also drooling onto my stepping foot. Being old enough to know the handling of gross things, I do not touch but first go for the visual. Peering down in the semi-dark I see a big dark blotch some 5 inches long where my foot had been. Dog crap doesn't squirt. What is it? Closer inspection. A slug. We'll call him SluggaSquirtus, now flat, having unloaded his entire reservoir of slime onto my lower extremeties. May he rest on a salt-pile in hell.
I'd rather change a dozen fully loaded diapers.
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There are a vast number of people who are uninformed and heavily propagandized, but fundamentally decent. The propaganda that inundates them is effective when unchallenged, but much of it goes only skin deep. If they can be brought to raise questions and apply their decent instincts and basic intelligence, many people quickly escape the confines of the doctrinal system and are willing to do something to help others who are really suffering and oppressed." -Manufacturing Consent: Noam Chomsky and the Media, p. 195
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