I found that night soil is the soil recovered from places outhouses used to (or still currently) stand. During the period of time that outhouses were in use, they had to be cleaned frequently (or moved to a new location). Cleaning became more common as the ‘night soil’ was found to be valuable for crops. Even more valuable once they started to compost or treat it before application so that disease and worms stopped spreading through the food

It was supposedly called night soil because the workers collecting it would do so at night. Basically it was a polite reference to a product that may not always have been completely composted when it was collected.

As more and more houses got plumbing through the 1960′s, the pits were sometimes cleaned one last time…and sometimes they weren’t.

So, that led me to find that there is a whole culture in ‘privy digging’. Who knew there were so many young bottle collectors digging up old outhouse pits?

My first though was that its strange what people will do for an off chance at finding some old bottles. My second thought was that they must not find much since I had just read about how valuable ‘night soil’ was for a period in history. My third thought was wondering if they could still find any kernels of corn. Heh. Corn.

Well, it turns out even the emptied privy pits had a lot of bottles… someone picked out the bottles from the (sometimes soupy) mess when they emptied them, and frequently threw them back in. Plus of course, even when there was a market for night soil it doesn’t mean that a family didn’t still just dig a new hole and move the outhouse, particularly if they were in the country and lined their pit with wood rather than stone/brick.

Finally, let me just say for the record: It is crazy how many websites are dedicated to outhouses, pit toilets, and privy digging. Holy Crap (pun intended).

Just in case you’re missing Reddit during their outage I’d like to share a lovely screenshot that came from there thanks to the fine folks at the pen forum. Besides, it kind of fits in with what this site is sometimes known for… dirty old men and incest.

(Click the image for the full size).

I have to say there is some good advice there. I found myself critiquing their technique at several points, but overall their dedication is admirable.

Our forum also included a quote from another sites review of the article:

To elaborate: the human equivalent would be performing a colon cleanse by cutting yourself open, removing your intestines, turning them inside out, and washing them in the dishwasher. With Drano.

posted by Deathalicious at 12:37 PM on September 13 [3 favorites]

From now on I am going to refer to all of my screwdrivers as datachisels. All of them except for the vodka and orange juice screwdrivers of course… That would just be crazy.

The thing is, “nothing to do” is why I was on the computer to begin with. Who knew my computer could get bored too?

I took that picture back in July, but just cleared out my camera today. (I take no responsibility for the spelling). Enjoy.

However, even with the good ones, occasionally the attempts to teach their young demon-vessel some civilized manners can backfire. Take the case of a friend of mine, who had spent time teaching his three year old daughter that giving compliments is a good thing.

Most of the time the compliments had been harmless. “I like your shirt Mommy” or “I like your cooking Nana” was the order of the day, and was always reinforced with a “thank you” or a “that’s very nice!” At least until the day my friend was in the bathroom when his three year old came in behind him. He’s not shy, and potty training was only recently taking hold so he let it fly. Unfortunately for him, he had no sooner started to go when he heard her say five words:
“I like your penis daddy”
I don’t know about you, but that would be enough to make me stop mid-stream and reconsider my life choices.

Still… how do you respond to that? You have to be very careful with your reactions around a three year old. If you say “NO, don’t say that!” then they will wonder why and it will come out at the wrong time. If you laugh, it will be the only thing they say for a week. You can just imagine what would happen if a child were to start yelling “I like your penis daddy” at Wal-Mart hoping for a quick laugh from passers-by.

But thankfully he opted to just say “thank you” and let it drop. At least until his wife came home. His wife thought it was hilarious and cracked up about it for quite some time. Then she told all of her friends, and suddenly he has a new nickname. He is now known as “Daddy” whenever her and her friends get together.

But hey, it could be worse…

For example:

I challenge the readers, email harvesters, and spam-bots that frequent this website to find a horrible/tragic/disgusting/etc video that is NOT made better by the addition of the Benny Hill theme. You can add the theme to any youtube video by using the “Benny Hillifier” here: http://bennyhillifier.com/.

Sub-Challenge: Someone needs to take the 1man1jar video, speed it up a little, and add the theme song.

In either case the best submissions may end up posted here.

Submissions can be commented on this thread (comments screened) or links can be sent via email to clme@ this domain.

“Chris, I put on my robe
and wizard hat. Roll for
initiative. Love, Shaun,
your Dungeon Master”

Almost instantly I wondered if I could take its clothes off.

10 points to Gryffindor.

I wish i knew how to quit you.

I know I speak for all of the PenIsMightier staff when I wish Jeer and TheOnyx a happy life together.

Insert a MIDI of “When Doves Cry” here.

I hung up and went back to sleep. I woke up an hour later wondering if I had dreamed the earlier call. I checked my phone and it verified that the call had indeed happened.

I asked my girlfriend about it over lunch today. She swore adamantly that it was not her sending the flowers. Once I finally believed her, I sat and thought about who might send me flowers:

• My most resent ex: While possible, this would be uncharacteristic of her.
• The company that installed my new air conditioning system a last week (and consequently set off a fire sprinkler while welding a copper pipe without a heat shield, thus flooding part of my condo as well as part of the one underneath and the garage below that): I figured they might be trying to play nice after the massive fuck-up.
• Your mom: She’s such a softie.

The flowers arrived late in the day. This is what I found:
(click for larger images)

Suddenly, I remembered the E-mail conversation:

---

From: Jeer
Subject: Get Lamp

A documentary about text adventure!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UwZxUGmqSOo

and this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4nigRT2KmCE&feature=related

=D

---

From: TheOnyx

I love lamp.

---

From: Jeer

You love dick.

---

From: TheOnyx

You keep hoping for our “Happily Ever After”, but you never do anything about it.

---

From: Jeer

How about I FTD some flowers for you?

Would that make you slip off your chair, sweetheart?

---

From: TheOnyx

It’s like you don’t even know me.

---

Well-played, good sir. Well-played, indeed.

This of course is not surprising from the guy that is best known around here for testicles with smiley faces

Eventually we retreated to the wave pool to bob around for a bit before venturing to the outdoors to forage for dinner. While there, my wife pointed out a particularly large fellow that was floating in the water about 20 feet away from us. He was covered in what can only be described as fur, with each individual strand moving of its own accord, as though possessing a life of its own. It was mesmerizing.

It was at this point that my wife said “Wow, there is finally someone here that is actually hairier than you are.”

Yes, I could feel the love.

I step out the door holding a flashlight and a baseball bat, and start to walk around my house looking for an injured raccoon or a cat in heat. Then I hear the noise again, but this time it sounds less like a feral creature… it almost sounds human.

“whoahoahoahoahoahoahoahoa”

I walk back to the front of my house and then out to the street, trying to ascertain the direction the noise is coming from.

“Whoahoa *gasp* fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck whoahoahoahoahoa”

Ok. That is definitely a human noise.

Finally I look towards the house at the end of the street. There is a single illuminated window in upstairs level of the house, and much of that window is currently blocked by a man and a woman. The woman has her head and breasts out of the window while a man behind her is having sex with her.

So here I am standing in the middle of the street holding a flashlight and a baseball bat, and I’m not wearing shoes or a shirt. Yet, for a fleeting moment, I’m not the strangest person in my neighborhood. While thinking about that, I realize that I should probably not continue to stand in the street, so I wipe the drool off my chin and head back inside to go to bed.

But there turns out to be a problem… the neighbor is loud enough that it keeps me from sleeping. I have no idea what type of drugs give people that much sexual stamina, but she keeps screaming out her window off and on for the next three hours, which makes sleeping difficult. About every 30 minutes or so they take a break, but even then they are loud, since they step outside to smoke a cigarette and yell obscenities at one another. I’m sure it would have been quite a show if I didn’t have to work early that morning.

Finally at about 3am the woman steps outside with her mother. They apparently wanted to have a private conversation, since they crossed the street into my yard and started to talk under my bedroom window. It seems that the reason this show was put on was for the benefit of the woman’s stepfather. The story went that he kept hitting on her, and her mother was ignoring it, so she decided to really make him mad by having wild sex with some asshole as loud as possible while he was trying to sleep.

Yeah. Ok. I’m not sure if that makes sense to anyone else, but I’m still confused as hell about how that was supposed to make the old pervert mad as opposed to making him jerk off furiously outside her door.

Anyway, the woman and her mother continue to chat for about 20 minutes while sharing cigarettes. By the end they were crying and hugging one another.

After this lovefest they all go back inside and there was glorious silence. I sleep like the dead for about two hours… but them I’m jolted awake by the sound of tires squealing as the woman’s fucktoy takes off in a rush, with her yelling insults and chasing after his truck.

While I’m on my way to work I only have one thought on my mind… how the fuck can she still walk?

But nowhere has it made more of a difference than in the lives of creepy child molesters. See, Clash for Clunkers allows them to trade in their 15 year old panel van in favor of something a bit younger, just they way they like it.

The new vehicle of choice? The 2009 Chrysler PT Cruiser. In fact, they can order it with heavily tinted windows and a TV in the back for the kids! The modern child-seat mounts are a great place to secure handcuffs or baling twine as well!

Now, it is true that they may not be able to keep their victims locked up face down in the shag carpet anymore, but damnit, they still have all sorts of fuel-efficient cargo space to work with! Plus, no more straining to lift those 50 pound loads up above their waist while trying to keep the sliding door from closing on their arms. Now, they simply trip the hapless victim into the back and slam the well balanced door shut, letting the child-safety locks do the rest of their work for them.

Throw in sweet aftermarket features such as remote start, and now the molester on-the-job can periodically run the air conditioning or crack the windows! Whether working at the toll-booth, video store, or airport parking security, rest assured that no more will your laced chocolate bunnies melt into the seats!

Yes thats right, the 2009 P.T. Cruiser: Molesters welcome!

Anyway, she approached us and asked quite loudly (to no one in particular) “Hey, how the fuck do you get rid of the hiccups?”

She then proceeded to lean on the table and stare at the center of it, as if daring it not to answer her. As it turns out she was, in fact, hiccuping.

My friends tried to be helpful, but things like “Drink water,” “Hold your breath,” or “take an antacid” were met with derision and she began to look at us in turn, hoping for a better answer.

When her eyes met mine I decided to try scaring her hiccups away. I tilted my head a little to one side and said “Did you know you were pregnant?”

She gasped and jumped back.

Her hiccups were cured, but I was cut off. Assholes.

Apparently a compromise was finally reached a few mornings ago, since I walked in and saw this:

(click for full size)

Ever since I took this picture the animals have all been acting guilty.