Friday 28 October 2022

Dirty Dan, the Iranian Man


                                       You can see where he was scratching his head

I am posting on the demise of the world's dirtiest man- a bold claim if you ask me. Anyway, I've decided to put 'pen to paper' in deference to his passing. Here is my previous musing upon this foul but crusty individual. So this fella has been pottering about the Iranian plateau for a goodly 60 years, without a sniff of bodily cleaning products. Eventually, after niffing up the environment and general locale, something awful, the villiage folk decided to take matters unto themselves and subject our  'hero' to thorough bodily cleansing. Not long after however, the shock of being moderately clean was too much and Dan's mortal existence was so sorely tested that he died, mayhap of shock. Although that said, the old bugger was well over 90.

I was so moved by this grim tale of grime, that I have put forth an ode, nay ditty, in commemoration of Dan's filthy existence, sadly snuffed out by an impromptu scrubbing, unwanted and decidedly unwarranted.

A sad tale of woe and dirt, 

As Dan never did have a clean shirt.

No more doth he smoke da shit,

No more doth he pong a bit.

He has gone forth to meet his maker,

No more emitting a noisome vapour.*


* To qualify: this would not apply, of course, if they just left his body to rot under the hot Persian sun. Poetic licence/nonsense. 

7 comments:

  1. Maybe he did not pong. There is no record of humans bathing in clean or dirty water up until fairly recent times. Even the aristocracy, who could have afforded it thought it a bit of a risk. Maybe it is all a con by soap manufacturers, who are not averse to persuading the public/mugs that they have an imaginary problem for which, fortunately, they have an efficacious snake oil.
    A permanent crust of grime never curtailed the mating game. So either they were pong free, or as with mutual munchers of garlic, a pong was not noticed.
    Other than Ophelia, there is no mention of dipping into water in the world of Shakespeare or Chaucer. And haughmagandie* was rife. The custom seemed to be to mask a pong with some stronger aroma, rather than wash.
    Probably old Dan had a surface layer of protective benign bacteria, and as with the bacteria in your own gut, killing the lot can have consequences. Sometimes more whiffy.
    *The online collinsdictionary.com has a definitely ardour quenching definition of this grand word.

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    1. What do you mean: my liquid soap, body moisturiser, toner and exfoliator are just a con to get me to buy products I don't need?

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    3. Of course not. You are just weaseling ( or maybe Ferreting, like the appropriately named Shagger) your way to a bit of how's-yer-father.
      Not to be confused with houghmagandie, which is subtly different, in ways I dare not describe.

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    4. 'A permanent crust of grime never curtailed the mating game'. Absolutely true. A few years ago, central Wellington was the home of a rather interesting itinerant (paraffin lamp) known as 'Blanket Man'- not to be confused with any supposed progeny of Michael Jackson. Anyway, said gentleman used to roam the City Centre wearing nowt but a black blanket. He had the endearing habit of exposing his genitals to young women, various, as was his want. He became a bit of a celeb in the Wellington environs and young ladies coming out of various drinking venues, on a Saturday night/Sunday morning were happy to assuage his carnal desires, often in public. As I recall personal hygiene was never a priority for 'Blanket Man' So yes, being a filthy bugger is not always an impediment for getting laid. By the way, Kiwi girls have a reputation for being 'morally loose'. Your comment has inspired me to write a post about 'Blanket Man'. Sadly, he is no more.

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  2. A total aside.
    On my first visit to Aus my new Aussie work mate, or mite as they say, and I were showering in the RAN shore base showers after a hard day's graft. He asked me if I wanted to use his Pommie Shower, while holding out his aerosol can of deodorant.
    Apparently Aussies believe that the English would rather douse themselves with whiffy deodeorant than wash.
    Of course I refused, telling him that as a Scot I would use soap. Especially as it was free.

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    1. If you think, that washing water abstinence is a cultural matter, mind Dan´s left hand - in his region often used instead of toilet paper.

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