For my first ever BM Newswire, I wanted to discuss something close to home. Little did I know exactly how close it would be. While reading the area papers I found out that Idaho is on the frontier of poop technology.

The Magic Valley in south central Idaho is home to thousands of cows, each one producing thousands of pounds of poop. The manure problem has been haunting farmers (and nearby villagers, who are sick of holding their noses) for way too long. To the rescue comes a Washington-based company called Organix. As the Magic Valley Times News reports, Organix helps farmers turn poop into profit. Using a technique develop by Organix, farmers can now put manure through anaerobic digesters that transform it into methane gas (the main component in natural gas) and fertilizer.

The cost is a little steep -- about $1000 per cow -- but over the course of time the money can easily be made back by selling the methane to gas companies and the fertilizer to nurseries, and by eliminating the farm's waste entirely, leaving only water as a byproduct.

Here on PoopReport, we have already read about pig shit powered racecars; now we have discovered that cow shit can heat homes, feed families, and make farmers money. How much further can poop go?

We're all familiar with the inherent dangers in bathrooms and bathroom hardware. From bacterial infections to slipping on poo, from plunger horror stories to cracked toilet seats biting our butt cheeks, even from toilets breaking underneath us to people drowning in backyard sinkholes, here on PoopReport we think we've heard them all.

A couple of days ago, PooperGal opened our eyes to a very real threat with her report on celestial blue ice. The possibility of frozen airplane poop falling through my roof was one that had never before crossed my mind. I could only assume it wasn't something many of you had ever worried about, either. But now, after that report, surely we can say to ourselves that we've heard about every poop or bathroom-related accident there could be. Right?

Unfortunately, there's one more menace we must add to our lists of worries: burning thousand-pound rolls of toilet paper. Yes, that's right. You must now be very afraid of ginormous rolls of TP catching fire near you. It happened in Florida, where it took Miami-Dade firefighters well over two hours to put out their butt tissue inferno, and only after they used a forklift to take it out of the semi-trailer in which it was burning.

Some may ask who or what started the fire. Others may ask why anyone would want to burn such a beautiful thing. My paranoia asks, "How the holy hell do we protect ourselves?!" That same paranoia will have me dreaming tonight of a glowing Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man -- and his new buddy, the Half-Ton Fiery Charmin Roll -- terrorizing my hometown.

You folks keep safe. You never know what new toilet horrors are yet to rise.

The science speaks for itself:

"A 60-year-old man with acute pancreatitis developed persistent hiccups after insertion of a nasogastric tube. Removal of the latter did not terminate the hiccups which had also been treated with different drugs, and several maneuvers were attempted, but with no success. Digital rectal massage was then performed resulting in abrupt cessation of the hiccups.

"Recurrence of the hiccups occurred several hours later, and again, they were terminated immediately with digital rectal massage. No other recurrences were observed. This is the second reported case associating cessation of intractable hiccups with digital rectal massage. We suggest that this maneuver should be considered in cases of intractable hiccups before proceeding with pharmacological agents."

So. Instead of using medicine, you should stick your finger in your butt. That sounds like good advice. Though they use the term "rectal massage." I wonder what happens if they accidentally hit the prostate while massaging that rectum? I know that would make me gasp some air. If nothing else, it could make the hiccup cure more enjoyable, at least for men.

The problem I see here: how can one treat their hiccups during the workday? You can't just stick your finger in your butt whenever the need arises, can you? I think one of those remote control vibrators might be the answer. You would want one that does not make too much noise, of course. And position it carefully -- you also wouldn't want to be tickling that prostate while you're at work. That can get messy.

Brown can distract you from work, that's for sure. Because it's time for another trip into the PoopReport mailbag. But first: if anyone ever accuses you of wasting your time on this site, here's proof that your work is for the betterment of humanity. Congratulations, Daphne: you've been cited!

And if anyone ever says PoopReport doesn't hook you up, here's proof that we do -- well, if you live in LA, that is. Remember Le Petomane, the movie? They're doing a screening at Comics with Cameras in Hollywood on November 2 and 6. There's a $10 cover, but any PoopReporter who wants to go should get in touch with me and I'll get you in touch with the filmmaker who will give you a VIP pass (although you still have a $10 drink minimum). If you can't make it, you can learn a lot more about Le Petomane on their site. I've seen it, and believe me: the whole movie is as good as the clip they posted for us promises it is.

Moving on: if you've got insomnia, maybe you've seen the infomercials with that freaky colon cleansing guy. Larfus sends in an in-depth analysis of the creepiest man to ever discuss his daughter's poop on national television.

And more. From Kelly: Confessions of a gum swallower. From Crapola: brocolli, and the reason your water bill is so high. From Sam: travel bathroom stories, an expose on rodents and their anal sphincters, Tasmanian devils and their poop, and sandy toilet paper. From Paglia: the deal with recycled toilet paper. From Nate: the pseudo-rap video "How To Make Poop." From Scatoman: the best typo ever. And from Meth Oozalaa: discovering something about a friend you don't want to learn.

Listen to this new song from DBLF Studios, the team who did the Poop For Peace song: it's Binge Shrartin'!

Ah, Arnold. How many links did you hook us up with this time? Thanks to him, we've got the bathroom etiquette video, the babies and fathers video, a toilet cake, the fart bear, the Great Austrian Fart Survey, the lightning bolt to the anus, the 2007 dog poop calendar, the laxative prison break, and the poop museum exhibit. Are there any PoopReporters in Miami who can go to that for us?

I got this in email: "hey man i have a bad ass song that you should hear and probably put on the website. its called poop salad and its just really stupid but awesome." Intrigued? Uh, sure. Go to Swedish Deathmetal's MySpace page and listen.

Now this is great. A short film by Michel Gondry (Science of Sleep, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) starring himself and David Cross, about the bond between a man and his poop. Well worth your time.

Also great is this comic from Explosm.

And finally, just about everyone has expressed shock, amusement, outrage, or all three at the kids' toilet Halloween costume. Will it make the kid the hit of the party, or scar him for life?

It happens. You're sitting in your living room watching a movie on the DVD player when suddenly a meteoric, blue, poop-filled iceberg crashes through your roof and destroys your bed. At least, it happened to William and Evelyn McElroy this week in Chino, California.

"It was a huge crash. It shook the whole building but we thought it was a car," William McElroy said. After investigating outside but finding no sign of a UFO, falling safe, or misplaced grand piano, the couple went back to their movie. It wasn't until they headed to bed that they discovered that a huge chunk of blue ice -- the kind that sometimes hurtles to Earth from leaky airplane lavatories -- was occupying it. Besides destroying the bed, the unwelcome bearer of frozen feces and urine had left a two-foot hole in the roof of the house.

Relieved that they hadn't been in bed at the time, as they would have been if they hadn't been watching the movie, the McElroys were counting their blessings after Wednesday's wild blue mishap from the wild blue yonder. "I think we had somebody extra looking over us," Evelyn McElroy said.

Amen, Mrs. McElroy. But let's hope that next time that "somebody extra" looks over you, He warns you first that He's about to flush.