Polishing piles of poo

Apparently in my job (I'm a newspaper editor) I am used to 'sifting through piles of sh1t until everything looks polished'. Well according to director him that is. Why are we on this topic? Well someone has to play Cyrus the cess-pit cleaner, don't they!
This discussion began with a conversation about the advice about characterisation we were giving to those who sought it prior to the auditions. One person has asked both director her and director him for guideance - and maybe had different answers! Last night I suggested to director her that if I didn't get THE PART then I would only be able to do something where I wasn't on at the same time because HE needs to be the tallest person on the stage. Which is where Cyrus came in.
Foolishly I asked director him and director her what advice they would give to me if I was to play that part... Which takes us back to where we started. Carte blanche for an open season on all things toilet related. Oh and I should add before we go any further that we usually have to unblock the drains at Colnbrook Village Hall (where we perform) a couple of times a year. There's no caretaker, so the lot falls upon us. If you get my meaning.
So here is the advice:
"Make sure you have had a good swim around in a cess pit - to get the flavour of the charater."
"Wear a snorkel and nose plugs. That is how I would do the job anyway."
"Whoever gets the part now has to go and sort out any drainage blockages that might occur at CVH in order to make sure they really understand their part. :))"
Plus the stuff about being an editor.
Thank the Lord that I didn't ask set man or dangerous (set man's Portsmouth-based sidekick). All sorts of gags about bumper books of crosswords would have come back at me. I'll explain why another time. Maybe when we get around to set build.

Thought for the day: Gutter jounalism. Fireplace toilets. Dr Livingstone I presume. Steptoe & son. Gordon Bennett Oh yes, there is a link between all five of those things. Here goes....
James Gordon Bennett was a real person, or rather two real people. The elder James Gordon Bennett was born in Scotland in 1795 and emigrated to the USA, eventually becoming a journalist and founding the New York Herald in 1835. The paper flourished to become the number one in the city. But Bennett's was criticized for his 'gutter press' methods. In 1836, in a pre-cursor to tabloid cheque book journalism, he published a notice offering to reward any woman who 'will set a trap for a Presbyterian parson, and catch one of them flagrante delicito'.
James Gordon Bennett Jr. inherited his father's talents for journalism and controversy, not to mention his multi-million dollar estate - and he's the one the phrase refers to. He took over control of the New York Herald in 1866.
He has the unenviable record, as bestowed by the Guinness Book of Records, of the 'Greatest Engagement Faux Pas', for the manner in which his engagement to the socialite Caroline May was broken off in 1877. At the 1877 New Year's party held by his fiancee's father, he became so drunk that he mistook the fireplace for a toilet and urinated in it in front of his hosts and their guests. Needless to say, the marriage didn't go ahead.
This didn't stop him being an successful and innovative journalist though. He invested heavily in developing on his father's news empire. In 1868, with the simple brief of 'find Livingstone' he sent the travelling correspondent of the New York Herald - Henry Morton Stanley, to track down and interview David Livingstone in Africa. After a long search Stanley was ready to give up but was encouraged by Bennett which, when he eventually located his prey on the shores of Lake Tanganyika, resulted in what has become one of the most famous of all journalistic lines - "Dr. Livingstone, I presume?"
From 1877 Bennett lived in Europe and died in 1918. The expletive 'Gordon Bennett' is a version of 'Gor blimey', which is itself a euphemistic version of 'God blind me'. That, combined with Bennett's outrageous lifestyle and newsworthy stunts, is sufficient to explain why his name was picked out.
But the earliest known use of the phrase in print is in the script for a 1962 episode of the BBC comedy 'Steptoe and Son' - The Bird:
Harold: Well that's that then. I said "That's that then".
Albert: What's that then?
Harold: That is! I've finished for the day!
Albert: Have you fed the horse?
Harold: Of course I've fed the horse - I wouldn't have said "That's that then" if I hadn't.
Albert: You wrapped him up?
Harold: Yes I have wrapped him up. Look when I say "That's that then" it means I've done it all, it means I've finished. Gordon Bennett, if you don't know that after all these years.
Phew!!! I think that explains it all... I told you that if you read this every day you would learn something.