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Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world’s only daily column that’s “teehee-ing” over reports that singer Bob Dylan is being investigated for a smelly toilet. Apparently he has an outdoor toilet used by security guards at his home in Malibu and neighbors have installed five industrial-sized fans to divert the smell. Claims say that the Pacific breeze has been spreading the terrible odor.
From our own experiences attending music festivals, porta-potties have the worst sort of stink. But, that’s because hundreds of people are using them after imbibing all sorts of beer.
But, a backyard toilet? How bad could it be? How many guards does he have? Does anyone else use it? What are potty-users eating? Do guests use the offending toilet during garden parties? Is it getting cleaned out? Does someone have a digestive disorder? Why don’t the guards use the toilet inside the house?
Neighbors also claim that the smell is so bad that a child has fallen ill from the stench.
Maybe a psychedelic poop monster, like Spider Man or Catwoman, has taken control of Bob Dylan’s backyard and Mr. Blowing in the Wind is protecting a ripe fecal beast. Or maybe, just maybe, the neighbors are over-reacting. Maybe. Reports allege that the outdoor toilet, which was installed six months ago, had made parts of the neighbor’s home uninhabitable.
Even papers in London are reporting on this poopy scandal. All we know is, man, this potty must reek.
***
We also have a SCUM ALERT!! SCUM ALERT!! to report from Dillon’s Bonnie Boex:
Peanuts, our neighborhood pine squirrel, was killed Monday morning on Tenderfoot Street in Dillon by a vehicle traveling at speeds in violation of the posted limit of 25 mph; a driver in violation of the law; a bully; a thug. Helpless and tearful, all I could do was cradle Peanuts' warm twisted body in my hands and promise revenge, though not constructive thoughts, understandable nonetheless.
The driver needs to be aware of the sadness he has caused. Peanuts would have been in the neighborhood for his fourth season this year. During his short life, he brought sheer joy to our household and that of the neighbors, giving us moments of unmitigated belly-laughs in response to his antics, asking nothing in return. Peanuts stored nuts in our garage and in various locations at the neighbors; he continually chased the gray squirrels out of his territory and away from his feeder; he protected his property every day, all day, as we watched his industrious little body fly to and fro, an innocent lovely creature conducting his life on earth according to God's plan.
I continue to listen for his chatter, but am met with silence; I seek a glimpse of his white-ringed eyes and snout but to no avail. For the time being, Peanuts remains in his burial coffin; I'm not ready to let him go. He deserved so much better from all of us after giving so much.
You, the driver, are indeed a thug; you know who you are.
***
We’re out, and we have so many questions.
From our own experiences attending music festivals, porta-potties have the worst sort of stink. But, that’s because hundreds of people are using them after imbibing all sorts of beer.
But, a backyard toilet? How bad could it be? How many guards does he have? Does anyone else use it? What are potty-users eating? Do guests use the offending toilet during garden parties? Is it getting cleaned out? Does someone have a digestive disorder? Why don’t the guards use the toilet inside the house?
Neighbors also claim that the smell is so bad that a child has fallen ill from the stench.
Maybe a psychedelic poop monster, like Spider Man or Catwoman, has taken control of Bob Dylan’s backyard and Mr. Blowing in the Wind is protecting a ripe fecal beast. Or maybe, just maybe, the neighbors are over-reacting. Maybe. Reports allege that the outdoor toilet, which was installed six months ago, had made parts of the neighbor’s home uninhabitable.
Even papers in London are reporting on this poopy scandal. All we know is, man, this potty must reek.
***
We also have a SCUM ALERT!! SCUM ALERT!! to report from Dillon’s Bonnie Boex:
Peanuts, our neighborhood pine squirrel, was killed Monday morning on Tenderfoot Street in Dillon by a vehicle traveling at speeds in violation of the posted limit of 25 mph; a driver in violation of the law; a bully; a thug. Helpless and tearful, all I could do was cradle Peanuts' warm twisted body in my hands and promise revenge, though not constructive thoughts, understandable nonetheless.
The driver needs to be aware of the sadness he has caused. Peanuts would have been in the neighborhood for his fourth season this year. During his short life, he brought sheer joy to our household and that of the neighbors, giving us moments of unmitigated belly-laughs in response to his antics, asking nothing in return. Peanuts stored nuts in our garage and in various locations at the neighbors; he continually chased the gray squirrels out of his territory and away from his feeder; he protected his property every day, all day, as we watched his industrious little body fly to and fro, an innocent lovely creature conducting his life on earth according to God's plan.
I continue to listen for his chatter, but am met with silence; I seek a glimpse of his white-ringed eyes and snout but to no avail. For the time being, Peanuts remains in his burial coffin; I'm not ready to let him go. He deserved so much better from all of us after giving so much.
You, the driver, are indeed a thug; you know who you are.
***
We’re out, and we have so many questions.
