(Papa) Sleever McDowell was born into the urinal soap cake industry as his father owned a manufacturing plant that also made door wedges. Forced into the lavatorial arts at a young age he found himself searching for greater meaning later in life.
During the great “powder room crisis” of the early 1990’s Sleever found himself unemployed and alone in the bowels of New York City. He flushed himself up in a cardboard box and wiped around Central Park looking for scraps and something to cling on to.
Sketching his thoughts on the bottoms of cups and old napkins he acted out his ideas to squirrels, rats and unsuspecting children. Soon he was excreted from the park and sent to Bellevue Mental Hospital where he had been born. It was at the hospital where a nurse recognized his talents and helped him break down, digest and expel his work into his first book.
Years later that book was found recycled into a roll of toilet paper, turned into a roll of etoilet paper and published on the internet. Sleever leaves his legacy behind him. Every time he takes a step he leaves a little more. He who walks in his footsteps must take great care not to slip. Those aren’t banana peels.
Sometimes When I'm Dumping is a dissertation on the fecal arts. Part humor, part metaphysics - it is the quintessential bathroom book. This book is not for the faint of farted. It is the gift that keeps on flushing. Read one today and you will laugh every time you sit on anything made of porcelain again!