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vol 5 - issue 01 (sep 2002) :: pen & think
THE DOO-DOO MAN
by smokin' joe blow

It had been a long enough day before Mad Dog’s arrival, but I have never been one to turn away a guest, especially not when they come bearing Marching Powder. As the hour grew late, the conversation turned to the subject of quality pranks. It was then that I learned the story of “Doo-doo Man”.

"Might have been 30 of us sitting around at a party one night,” began Mad Dog in his loud southern manner, “and I was talking to this girl about how uncomplicated psychology really is.” He edged forward in the chair for a touch and go, and then continued. “I leaned over to her, tapped her a couple times on the leg and told her she was Doo-doo Man. Everybody scattered; they just jumped away quick, laughing at her, you know, ‘cause she’s Doo-doo Man! And so this gag goes on all around us for the rest of the night. I keep hearing it: Doo-doo Man, Doo-doo Man. And so it was born.

“A few weeks later we're at this place called the Rocket Cafe; just another greasy spoon. But on Tuesdays they have a two cheeseburger special for $1.99, so there's five lines of starving student motherfuckers out the door. Anyway, while we’re eating, somebody in the background starts running around in the cafe doing the Doo-doo Man thing! Now it had a life of its own.”

“Later, that shit started spreading across the whole campus; people fucking chasing each other around, calling each other Doo-doo Man. A month after it all started, I was at a Violent Femmes concert, and the Chickasaw Mudpuppies were opening up. That's who I went to see, really, because by then the Femmes were all played out. So the guy from the Chickasaw Mudpuppies gets up while the guitars are tuning, and he starts talking about how he was just walking around the campus before the show, you know, checking it all out, and some guy runs up out of no where and SMACKS HIM IN THE BACK OF HIS FUCKING HEAD AND CALLS HIM 'DOO-DOO MAN'! Can you believe that shit?” laughs Mad Dog, his eyes like two glossy pissholes in a snow bank.

“To make it worse, I had just eaten two hits of strong acid! So guess what I start yelling? ‘I'M DOO-DOO MAN! I’M DOO-DOO MAN!’ I’m waving my arms around and pointing at myself! Guess what happens? My friends scatter from me because I'm Doo-doo Man! I had started that shit almost a month earlier! But that's how simple psychology is, you know? Nobody likes to be singled out of a crowd."


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