The very first date I went on with Jay, we parted ways on the corner of 6th and Jersey Ave. He had a crush on me. In fact, he had tried to kiss me. My ninja like reflexes and untouchability proved too much for my handsom suitor, and he was left standing on the corner. I walked away confident and thrilled. I felt like I had the upper hand. As I turned to make some coy remark, I lost focus of where I was stepping. I landed in a 6 inch pile of dog poop.
I immediately texted Jay to inform him that I had stepped in dog crap. The facade was broken. I was no longer cool. From then on, Jay has lovingly referred to me as "Poo Shoe".

Last week, I wore an adorable outfit to work. I had on my fancy Banana boots and a sweater that Jay got for me. I returned from work to walk the dogs under the Turnpike. Its a great park (despite the looming fear of an off course car speeding towards me from above). As we rounded the far corner, i felt a slippery smoosh under my right foot...it was poop. In order to maintain my balance, I had to plant my left foot behind me. I thrust said foot down behind me to keep from falling over. I was stable. I looked down to see the damage on my boot, only to discover that both my feet were covered in poop... judging fro the size of the piles, it was from a big dog. I was a double poo shoe.

I had to do the poop-wipe walk the entire way home on both feet. I felt like i was trying to do a forwards moonwalk, and failing at it. I would also like to add, that Otis and Buka were not helping the cause.

Please pick up the Poops