If the foo shits, wear it.
For those who don't get this one, it's from an old joke.
Long ago, there was a renowned hunter who roamed far and wide, going on expediton after expediton, hunting down and shooting for sport every manner of wildlife. His den was huge and was decorated fabulously, though some felt grotesquely, with the heads, skins, horns and in some cases whole bodies of the animals he succeeded in bringing down.
His collection was rumored to be the most complete in the world, but he was still unsatisfied because he had been unsuccessful in his quest to bring home the most difficult species of bird to find, let alone kill - the immortal foo bird.
The foo bird was huge, said to exceed even the size of the roc, the legendary avian giant that could carry off elephants. The hunter was determined that he should be the first in the world to have a foo bird in his den.
But there was great danger in hunting the foo bird, for it was said that the bird was incredibly quick and, when spotted, would take flight and defecate on all in close range. Once defecated upon, legend had it that one could not wash off the excrement, because if one did, instant death would result.
Undeterred, the hunter undertook another great expedition to the South Seas islands in his ever present quest to locate and bring home the immortal foo bird. No expense was spared on this expedition, with the finest weaponry, the most experienced scouts, and the finest and most extensive provisions, so that the hunter could have many weeks available for locating the foo bird.
At last, one late afternoon while exploring one of the larger islands, one of the hunter's scouts whispered that a foo bird was in the next clearing. The hunter hurried to shoulder his rifle and, taking quick aim, shot and killed the gigantic bird. Alas, the bird, true to the legend, was able to defecate on the hunter just before being hit.
But, the hunter figured that he had his prey. No one else in the world had ever bagged a foo bird and, by thunder, he would take it home, have it stuffed, and show the world that he was, indeed, the hunter. He honored the legend and left the excrement on him to ensure that he would enjoy his prize trophy.
Sadly, the hunter's odiferous state was such that no one would visit him to see his rare foo bird. He could not enjoy his moment being alone. Depressed, he fell to drink and despondency, bemoaning the fact that he could not bask in the glory of the moment.
Finally, he decided that there was no use in going on. If he couldn't show is foo bird to others and see their reaction, he might as well be dead. He realized that there was no longer any point in honoring the legend of the excrement. One night, when he could no longer stand the irony, he ran to the shower and washed off all the foo bird excrement - and fell dead instantly.
The moral of the story?
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If the foo shits, wear it.
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Many people have never heard the epilogue to this sad tale.
A follow-up expedition was nearing the island by boat when a sudden storm capsized one of the ships, and the passengers and crew had to swim to shore. The leader of the expedition, a renowned naturalist, and his assistant found themselves swimming amongst a pod of seals. The naturalist watched while his assistant, following one seal, accidentally swam into the seal's excrement.
Unfortunately, when they got to shore and the assistant wiped the feces from his suit, he died on the spot.
The naturalist immediately had signs posted to prohibit swimming off the island....
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as any seal can plainly foo.