TGRR Being Deceased, Coyote is Our New Spiritual Advisor

[Doktor Howl]

I retract my earlier raving.

[Prince Glittersnatch III]

Dear Coyote,

There is blood in my stool. What is the best course of action?

That's a medical question.  Unless you're wanting some heh faith healing.

Oh no, it is a VERY spiritual question. The ability of digestive tract to divine the future is well established. Thus blood strikes me as a rather bad omen. It also had several human bones that I dont remember eating.

Did DNA testing confirm that it was not only human, but terrestrial life that produced the bone?

Doktor Blight,
might need a sample for further flaming poop bags analysis.

I already disposed of the sample, but I can show you what it looked like.

[Nephew Twiddleton]

Dear Coyote,

There is blood in my stool. What is the best course of action?

That's a medical question.  Unless you're wanting some heh faith healing.

Oh no, it is a VERY spiritual question. The ability of digestive tract to divine the future is well established. Thus blood strikes me as a rather bad omen. It also had several human bones that I dont remember eating.

Did DNA testing confirm that it was not only human, but terrestrial life that produced the bone?

Doktor Blight,
might need a sample for further flaming poop bags analysis.

I already disposed of the sample, but I can show you what it looked like.

That is clearly a human skull.

Now I have to come up with a hypothesis as to how you were able to fit a full cranium with teeth in your gullet, let alone your intestines....

[Q. G. Pennyworth]

no, that's a blood drawing of a skull, obviously.

[Nephew Twiddleton]

Dear Coyote:

Life completely out of control.  Sleep habits fucked.  Doin' the Elvis (pills for sleep, pills for waking).  Stress levels have exceeded "POOMP", more coffee, more everydamnthing.  The light at the end of the tunnel turned out to be an advertisement for Arby's.  There are blades coming out of the Southwest, and Aztecs haunt what sleep I get, screaming about variance reports and budget reforecasts.   Everyone around me has a smile stapled right to their skull, and dead animals and birds appear on my property 4 times a week.

And the people, Coyote...They're all showroom dummies, living their dummy lives and eating their dummy food while they wait, patiently, for their dress rehearsal with the mortician robot.  I can't get away from them.  I get threatening phone calls from all manner of area codes, people wanting to talk to me, who get defensive when I ask who they are (I have no bills in collection, which rules out the obvious).  It's only a matter of time before the scum get me, Coyote, and turn me into some weird stuffed fetish.

I'd run for the hills, but my feet do their own little boogie, from the house to the office & back, as if they have a mind of their own.  I try to scream warnings to the people around me, I try to tell them to GET OUT WHILE THEY STILL CAN, but my mouth just recites the work plan for the day.  I try to write out messages but everything's just fine.  My life is great.  Just ignore the above, I was only kidding.

Everything's just fine.  Forever and ever and ever and ever and ever

My Good Doktor,

It distresses me to hear of your plight. Only the most unwashed of masses would plague a man of Science to such ends. Ordinarily I would recommend a divestment of all worldly goods and living a life of blissful sin, but alas, you are a man of importance. Thus, you must not let the dummies get you down. I would recommend procuring a cycle of motoring, whether through purchase, theftborrowing, or SCIENCING it out a beloved family pet/automobile. Upon this cycle I recommend you exceed that limit of speed upon a road that is high and flat. Remember, the limits of speed are for THEM, and not for men of Science. It also reccommend taking along some of the Holy Fruit of the Desert with you. You will know what to do, and when will the time to use it. But if you need some recommendations, I suggest someplace filled with THEM. Some times you must allow the Holy Spirits flow through, and out of you, and onto those dummies.

Holyly Yours,
Coyote, Guru

Can't.  I'm 3,129 miles from home, and all the roads out of this Damned City lead back in the other side of the City, and the cop cars all go wokkawokkawokka and the upside down people look like ghosts of different colors.  And the food pellets taste like ass. 

Stress here, Coyote.  HUGE stress.  I think the kind of stress that Hank Sr must have felt, you can never slow down never rest never stop giddy up hossie, there's an environmental report needs doing RIGHT NOW and there's a blowfish in my chest, right, don't disturb the bastard or BAM spines sticking out of my outsized & distorted torso.

Haha.  Just kidding.  Everything's great.  Couldn't be better.  I smile all the time.  Even when I sleep, or so I am told.  It's a big smile, Coyote, a friendly smile, and it's for all of you, the people I share my planet with.  The people who make me so very happy.

Speaking as a Nephew, it's hard to be far from home. Well, home is here, but home is there also, but no matter where one may be, it's not home, is it?

Not to usurp, but, be a Canadian. Canada up the desert. Show them le magnifique of hockey and cheap Molson. And by that, I mean, drink a lot of piss beer, get on some rollerblades and huck some pasties covered in maple syrup at the miscreants with a hockey stick. And fish, because I know you're not Quebecois. The fish would be a good addition considering your clime. Do all of this wearing a RCMP uniform, and make them think that maybe, just maybe, they should be paying less attention to the southern border and more to the northern.

[Doktor Howl]

That would be humorous.

[Nephew Twiddleton]

That would be humorous.

And in my role as a fellow scientist, I think that this should be done. You should foster a sense of a Canadian invasion, especially from Quebec. Sheriff Joe should start profiling everybody except Native Americans.

A house divided, and all that shite.

[Doktor Howl]

That would be humorous.

And in my role as a fellow scientist, I think that this should be done. You should foster a sense of a Canadian invasion, especially from Quebec. Sheriff Joe should start profiling everybody except Native Americans.

A house divided, and all that shite.

I will evaluate this and respond.

[Nephew Twiddleton]

That would be humorous.

And in my role as a fellow scientist, I think that this should be done. You should foster a sense of a Canadian invasion, especially from Quebec. Sheriff Joe should start profiling everybody except Native Americans.

A house divided, and all that shite.

I will evaluate this and respond.

I look forward to it. 

[Phox]

Dear Coyote,
I am glad to hear that you have finally dethroned the Pretender and are once again dispensing spiritual advice to the world-weary. I myself am particularly world-weary, most especially the corporeal aspects of existence. Pray tell, if you would be so kind, what should I do in regards to the mutiny of my digestive tract, the pressure resonant within my sinus cavity, and the excruciating pain in the area of my pineal gland (the real one, that hokey-bologna Discordian one some people like to talk about)? Also, my roommate is a horrid, horrid sinner, what do?

Love and vomitous kisses,
Doktor Phox

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Dear Coyote,

There is blood in my stool. What is the best course of action?

I suspect you meant to post this here: http://www.poopreport.com/phpBB/index.php

I assume that's your usual forum, and you just got mixed up.

[Q. G. Pennyworth]

WHY ARE THERE CONTESTS? 

[Don Coyote]

WHY ARE THERE CONTESTS? 

One does not question the Poop^TM. One must only do as one can in the can, while doing the can can.

[Don Coyote]

I will be dispensing further Holyness^TM tomorrow. A non-disco project suddenly made sense and I have been redoing a few weeks of work.

[Doktor Howl]

WHY ARE THERE CONTESTS? 

wat