I bet you will . . .

You know, one thing that bothers me a bit about media where there is time travel, is that the sheer volume of poop and animals (including people) having sex is oddly absent. The past must have been dense with that stuff because . . . well . . . in my imagination at least, there wasn't too much else to do.

Maybe that's why my time travel screenplay didn't pan out. Actually, I never started one, or even had an idea for one, but it might go something like this:

  VILLAGE.  EXT.  DAY.

  There are big piles of poop everywhere and the village boys are running 
  after the village girls, trying to get fresh.  DIRTY fresh.  They are clothed 
  in tattered and stained burlap, smudged with dirt and grime.  Smoke trails 
  weakly from the chimneys of shoddily constructed homes.  The sun 
  is shining, but there is no hope for these people.  

  Suddenly, A FLASH OF LIGHT.  From it, emerge PEYTON and ZACH.

  ZACH:  Fucking, reception sucks here.  No wonder they called it the Dark Ages!

  PEYTON:  Ugh.  The oldest woman here here is like, 28 and has like, 18 children.  
  Fuck, they're making more of them just . . . there against the wall of that house 
  by the donkey poop!  When we get back, I am totally gonna Yelp this and donate 
  to a cause, or something.    

I will admit though, that I do wonder how certain animals procreate. Like porcupines for example. How does an animal that's evolved to keep other animals away from it via quills, reproduce? Missionary?

Anyway, a little shame can be a good thing once in a while.

*Note: if my friend Zach reads this, I'm not making fun of you. It's just one of those names common to "Millenials" (I don't like that term) that's all.