Anus Colon-expanding music. Like Frank Zappa, Beck, and Spike Jones alll pissing in the same bowl. The Dung Beatles  Everyone in the Dung Beatles is named John.  Not the Beatles but an incontinent simulation.  Go-go girl with  dog-doo bras will gyrate to  shithouse re-writes of pop faves. The Defecators sewer-black electronica-futurist filthmongering featuring members of Robot Monster and Ark Spurting Blood. Tracy of the Hindenburg Ground Crew answers many of the questions posed by Screamin' Jay Hawkins "Constipation Blues."  Acoustic, yet "plugged." Dr. Robert Moss presents "Input/Output: Seven Days of Digestive Metamorphisis" an illustrated lecture. Chuckles the Klown presents "Adventures in Poo." Eric Brown, reads from "Comes out Brown." Master of Ceremonies: MR. PIDDLES, (the neighbor Mr. Rogers never visited.)

                                

 

               
 

   
 

POTTYCON 2000 TOILET TRIATHALON
FILTHY GAMES FOR ONE AND ALL.

"SMELLS LIKE…"
Round One: Blindfolded contestant match bathroom spray scent with proper brand names and "flavor."
Round Two: Contestants given three samples to sniff, one containing human urine, the other two vinegar and cheap wine.  They are challenged to pick the urine from the furthest sniffing radius possible.
PISS OFF 2000
A squirting dildos is fixed to a mannequin pelvis and fitted with a capacious "bladder."  Urine flows can be controlled by squeezing shut the rubber urethra, direction by bending the shaft.  Contestants manning the dildo are challenged to fill a champagne flute from a given distance.  Neatness counts.  (Or perhaps the same contest could be played out more simply with an enema kit?)
TOILET PAPER DEPLOYMENT
Four white-gloved contestants compete to clean pudding from plastic ass with smaller and smaller lenghts of toilet paper.  When gloves are soiled contestant is out.

Text of Eric's Brown's Spoken Turd Performance

Molten Silver

It is the righteous man who holds that any expression whose theme touches
upon the scatological should have its bunghole filled with molten silver.

Any humor that cropdusts the field of excreta should have its licensed
ripped up and its pilot dropped in the Lake of the Wastewater of the
Righteous, whose sides are unscalable.

Marry, as the infant zoologist has told us time and time again, a crap is
the child’s first creative act, an offering to an “other,” as it begins to
understand there is something external to itself that is similarly alive,

And the act of crapping is the primordial root of all creative acts, from
the landless lama sand mandala, to the double handful after double handful
of fecal lumplike modelling clay piled higher and higher that eventually
grew into the bronze headless giant of Rodin’s walking man –

Have you seen it, you seekers of beauty? It’s enough to make the tallest
petrified tree in the constipated forest of humanity fill the canvas of his
or her britches/bloomers with a River Ganges worth of baby’s favorite
medium!

Any research grant application that requests more than a dozen feceometers
to measure rates and amounts of defecation, shall be piddled upon by the
endowment committee, but

Should the nations set aside their differences and have need for an
ambassador to represent the Earth,

May those who do the nominating not overlook the man under the freeway,
whose sign reads: “I have a colon colostomy (hole in my side) – need money
for bags.
 

 A Taxonomy of the Turd

An exploding shit!
A level-3 shit.
A black shit, a green shit a marathon shit.
The shit of a vegetarian who cheated on Wednesday and Sunday because of the
ridiculously cheap deal at McDonalds.
The shit of a man who hasn’t eaten in weeks, consisting of nothing but
water.
A seated espresso spray, and its colleague, the latte shit with foam and
cinnamon
A girly shit, a truck driver shit, the meticulous defecation of a man who
drives a Saturn.
The stubborn shit, the stillborn shit, the no-wiping-necessary
pretending-to-snorkle floating- in-the-ocean clandestine dumperoo!
The right when you get to work can’t talk gotta use it shit.
The coughing, vomiting, sputtering Krakatoa II.
A pissed-off shithead taking a shit and a piss!
A coprophagist whipping himself up an afternoon snack!
The Tidy Bowl man leaning off his little boat and dropping some ballast!
Mr. Clean, and his trademark big, bald black shit and a smile!
 

Pooping by Any Other Name
(Synomyms from Pottycon Attendees)

Dropping the Huxtables off at the pool
Strain out some sausage
Poppin’ the poo
Puttin’ a cap in Pooh’s ass
Takin’ a bribe from the Laxative Mob
Dropping Chocolate Depth Charges into a Porcelain Sea……
Evicting the black tenants out the back of the building
Herding the black sheep out of the cave
Cancelling the P.J.’s
Droppin’ Bombs like Hiroshima
Put some Chocolate Icing on the Cake
Polluting the Bay
Spraying Jar-Jar All Over the Alley
Christening a Steamer
Sinking the Bismarck
Floating a Raft
The Reek of the Edmund Fitzgerlad
Working the Production Line at the Lincoln Log Factory
Waving the Green Flag at the Doodie 500
Skit the Lakie
Paying the Cover Charge at the Porcelain Nightclub
Brown eye tears
Floating the Chocolate Boat
Dropping a “Howard”
The Meal of Sisyphus
Birth Rehearsal
Play-Dough’s Latest Flavor
Feeding the Flies
Becoming Transparent
Pounds of Food Two Days Later
 

Top Ten

No. 1 – a pee!
No. 2 – a poo!
No. 3 – a foop (fart + poop)
No. 4 – the drip-kablooey!
No. 5 – the ha ha ha hey—Ouch!
No. 6 – the Roman Candle
No. 7 – the BORT!
No. 8, – the Ooga-Ooga, Ooga-Chaka
No. 9 – the plunk-whooosh! and…
No. 10 – the Ninja – silent, swift and unseen.
 

There once was a lady named Alice

Who ate breakfast, intending no malice
Some parts of her food
By the bile, got brown-hued,
Then went out her canalis analis

The length of the larger intesting
In Joe Blow or in Charlton Heston
Is 5 feet and that’s plenty
While the smaller is twenty!
But caliber’s what they’re attestin’!