Behold, the Ass Speaketh

Given the recent spate of posterior-related postings, from Wood's story about her spouse's reticence to break wind in the presence of his beloved, a child who required what must have been painful and terrifying surgery to his, um, anus, and some other butt-related post by one of the Dadcentric contributors which I cannot clearly recall, I have concluded that blogs, much in the way the internet, with its military-industrial beginnings, its capacity to distribute broadly information of broad social and political importance, is used by sad little men to scope porn (thanks to our visitor from Egypt, brought here looking for "mother daughter sex", we need you, buddy!) are meant, by dint of usage, for serious and not-very-serious discussions about our nether areas and their functions.

To that end, I recommend the above book, which we purchased at our local fish-jail in a moment of bubbly happiness. The story, which espouses the "better out than in" philosophy, gives hope to those who are too ashamed to give vent publically to their inner humours. Taken literally, the recommended tale also tells the sordid truth about herpetological flatulence - a dark little secret Kermit's controller still bears in shame (do not shake this man's hand).

P-man out.