Please read the entire short comment before passing judgment. Bruce loves something unusual. This gets a little gross, but bear with it. This is Bruce’s story:
Every since I was a young boy, I knew I was different. Other children
liked chocolate, peppermint and gummy bears. I liked dog shit. I couldn’t help it, I was born this way.
At first, I hid my prediliction. On walks with friends, when I saw a good fresh steaming pile of pooh, I’d carefully mark the location in my mind and steal back when nobody was watching, and “harvest” my next desert (or main meal, as the case may be). I begged my parents to allow us to get a dog, to no
avail. So I carefully cultivated friends who had dogs. And then waited. If you know what I mean.
As I grew older, and more aware, I suddenly realized that others were just like me. I still recall the moment that I knew that I was not alone, that I was not some evil pervert, that others “got me” and were just like me. I was walking home from school and some chick had her cocker spaniel on a leash doing his duty. And, I swear to God this is true, another guy who was two years ahead of me in high school was eyeballing what was happening, too. At first I thought he was just scoping out the girl’s ass, as would be typical of most guys his age. But the chick and her (rather hot) dog left, he kept his attention directed on the dog shit instead of the chick. I was too shocked to be protective of my next meal. Continue reading →