Have you ever visited a mushroom farm before? If you ever get the chance to take a field trip, I highly suggest checking one out. It really can be an eye-opening experience—on several levels, in fact, but for today's purposes we're only going to focus on one and it's the shit. Literally. Piles of shit. Hot shit. Moist shit. More shit than you can shake a shitty stick at. Sure, you can dress it up under the fancy guise of "manure" or "compost", but when you get right down to it, it's all just shit. And mushrooms not only grow in it—they thrive in it. They're farmed in it. Great big heaping piles of shit. Then they're shipped off to grocery stores and we buy 'em and eat 'em up as if none of that other shit involving shit ever happened. Ain't that some shit? I mean, nothing like a little funghi to bring out the inner shit eater in us!
From our own stable, we have Steve-O, whom I've always held in high regard when it comes to blazing trails through wildly diverse craptastic frontiers. A true "pooineer", you could say, especially if you're into fudge packing words with as much fecal material as colonically possible as I am. What's nice though is that he's always up to share his excellent excrement adventures with anyone close at hand—especially when that person just so happens to be Jeff Tremaine. But I digress to the year 2000 when this relatively unknown young man made a tremendous pop-culture splash in a kiddy pool filled with elephant poo. Since that time the whole world over has embraced shit in a way not since seen since ... forever? So much so that it has become no big thang, if I may wax urbanic with regard to this particularly rural venture. That said, behold! The Ladies of Manure!
(Photos by Sean Cliver; 2006)