True story. Really. I know that often means that it’s laced with bullshit, but this is not one of those stories.
One thursday morning at about 6 am, my wife woke me from a slumber that is often described as a death watch. You know, the apnea thing, the sounds of an aged english bulldog. Once I resuscitated myself, she said “There is something in the toilet. I think it might be a rat or something”. She was startled and rightfully so; she should be. Imagine to open the lid half asleep and find a “something” in the toilet.

I arose from the bed and went to look at the surprise; there it was. A live baby possum. Apparently it crawled up through the sewer some how. So I went upstairs and grabbed my son’s bionic extended grabber hand thingy, and pulled said possum out of the shittaroo. I then carefully placed his near death exhausted body in a trashcan and put him out in the woods at the house. I felt sorry for him. I mean really, he swam a long way, and through my poo no doubt to survive. Ironically I have less compassion for illegal aliens, yet they do the same thing. Of course if I put them in a trash can and turned them loose in the woods, the ACLU would be all over my ass. Peta – hero, ACLU – criminal.

Well, you say “Daryl-y boy nothing can top that.” Oh,the shit I can.

You see, two night later we get done with a show with the lovely Jen Kober. She was great. If you are missing those little comedy shows they are having in Paris, Texas you are an idiot. Great times.  Anyway, his sister showed up in the same toilet at about 2 am, after a night of partying. How do I know it was  girl, cause “bitches are always late”, Dr Dre, taught us that. Disposal sequence, was identical to her brother.

“Wow Daryl, you had two possums crawl up through your john? That’s amazing. What are the odds?” Blow it out your ass I say to you, because, here comes another….

The following weekend I leave to perform at the Shreveport Funnybone Theater with Tom Arnold from “Rosanne”, (he canceled at the last-minute and instead I got to work with an even better comic Bob Biggerstaff). Sometime over that weekend, an even stronger super pooper possum made its way up the sewer, and out of the toilet, into the master bedroom, and under the dresser, then decided to die.  While I was on the road. While the AC was off. While it was 100 degrees.

Ok now here comes the good part…………

My wife and I get my hair done by the same lady and Heather tells Lisa the story. I”ll put her part in red, like they do Jesus in that bible. Here is how she starts the story:

I went in to the restroom, and I looked in the toilet and there it was. At first I thought ‘maybe Daryl did not flush one of his shits’. Then after I said that I saw it move, I realized it was something else….”

So it took it wiggling to realize I did not analy abort this thing.  NOT THAT It had eyes, feet, tail or fur, but only when we saw it moving, we ruled out that it did not fall out of this man’s ass. It is then that I realized that I am a man. When people expect to see fur, feet, eyes, and a tail in you droppings, that you are truly carnivorous.

God is love,

Rev. Run

One Response to “Pooped-A-Possum”

  1. Bob Biggerstaff Says:

    Remind me to never poop at your house. Not that you would invite me over for that specific purpose.

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