Standing in line at the post office, I found myself wondering what on earth it was all over the guy in front of me. His trousers were caked in, what I soon determined, was shit. I don't know if it was his or the product of some animal. This reminded me of the wonderful pair of lines from Monty Python and the Holy Grail: "How do you know he's the king?""Cause he hasn't got shit all over him." Well, this guy certainly wasn't the king.
How did he get shit all over him? I can only wonder. I don't normally go around in public places with shit all over me, but obviously, others may view the matter differently.