Last week, Jesse Newton, devoted husband and father of Little Rock, Arkansas experienced the greatest horror of his life: his roomba ran over dog poop.

A couple days ago he described in great detail his experience on Facebook, along with simple-yet-telling drawing of the scene of the crime. His post immediately went viral, spreading like so much poop sucked into a roomba. If When Harry Met Sally is the greatest romantic comedy of all time (it is), then When Roomba Met Dog Poop is the greatest comedic horror story.

Here is it, presented in its entirety.

So, last week, something pretty tragic happened in our household. It's taken me until now to wrap my head around it and find the words to describe the horror. It started off simple enough - something that's probably happened to most of you.

Sometime between midnight and 1:30am, our puppy Evie pooped on our rug in the living room. This is the only time she's done this, so it's probably just because we forgot to let her out before we went to bed that night. Now, if you have a detective's mind, you may be wondering how we know the poop occurred between midnight and 1:30am. We were asleep, so how do I know that time frame?

Why, friends, that's because our Roomba runs at 1:30am every night, while we sleep. And it found the poop. And so begins the Pooptastrophe. The poohpocalypse. The pooppening.

If you have a Roomba, please rid yourself of all distractions and absorb everything I'm about to tell you.

It's like the beginning of "The Iliad," but with more poop.

Do not, under any circumstances, let your Roomba run over dog poop. If the unthinkable does happen, and your Roomba runs over dog poop, stop it immediately and do not let it continue the cleaning cycle. Because if that happens, it will spread the dog poop over every conceivable surface within its reach, resulting in a home that closely resembles a Jackson Pollock poop painting.

It will be on your floorboards. It will be on your furniture legs. It will be on your carpets. It will be on your rugs. It will be on your kids' toy boxes. If it's near the floor, it will have poop on it. Those awesome wheels, which have a checkered surface for better traction, left 25-foot poop trails all over the house. Our lovable Roomba, who gets a careful cleaning every night, looked like it had been mudding. Yes, mudding - like what you do with a Jeep on a pipeline road. But in poop.

Then, when your four-year-old gets up at 3am to crawl into your bed, you'll wonder why he smells like dog poop. And you'll walk into the living room. And you'll wonder why the floor feels slightly gritty. And you'll see a brown-encrusted, vaguely Roomba-shaped thing sitting in the middle of the floor with a glowing green light, like everything's okay. Like it's proud of itself. You were still half-asleep until this point, but now you wake up pretty damn quickly.

And then the horror. Oh the horror.

What follows is a true tale of a journeyman, faced with enough feces to fill a political campaign.

So, first you clean the child. You scrub the poop off his feet and put him back in bed. But you don't bother cleaning your own feet, because you know what's coming. It's inevitable, and it's coming at you like a freight train. Some folks would shrug their shoulders and get back in bed to deal with it in the morning. But you're not one of those people - you can't go to sleep with that war zone of poop in the living room.

So you clean the Roomba. You toss it in the bathtub to let it soak. You pull it apart, piece-by-piece, wondering at what point you became an adult and assumed responsibility for 3:30am-Roomba-disassembly-poop-cleanups. By this point, the poop isn't just on your hands - it's smeared up to your elbows. You already heard the Roomba make that "whirlllllllllllllllll-boop-hisssssssss" noise that sounds like electronics dying, and you realize you forgot to pull the battery before getting it wet. More on that later.

Oh, and you're not just using profanity - you're inventing new types of profanity. You're saying things that would make Satan shudder in revulsion. You hope your kid stayed in bed, because if he hears you talking like this, there's no way he's not ending up in prison.

Then you get out the carpet shampooer. When you push it up to the rug - the rug that started it all - the shampooer just laughs at you. Because that rug is going in the trash, folks. But you shampoo it anyway, because your wife loved that damn rug, and you know she'll ask if you tried to clean it first.

That is true love.

Then you get out the paper towel rolls, idly wondering if you should invest in paper towel stock, and you blow through three or four rolls wiping up poop. Then you get the spray bottle with bleach water and hose down the floor boards to let them soak, because the poop has already dried. Then out comes the steam mop, and you take care of those 25-ft poop trails.

And then, because it's 6am, you go to bed. Let's finish this tomorrow, right?

The next day, you finish taking the Roomba apart, scraping out all the tiny flecks of poop, and after watching a few Youtube instructional videos, you remove the motherboard to wash it with a toothbrush. Then you bake it in the oven to dry. You put it all back together, and of course it doesn't work. Because you heard the "whirlllllllllllllll-boop-hissssssss" noise when it died its poopy death in the bathtub. But you hoped that maybe the Roomba gods would have mercy on you.

But there's a light at the end of the tunnel. After spending a week researching how to fix this damn $400 Roomba without spending $400 again - including refurb units, new motherboards, and new batteries - you finally decide to call the place where you bought it. That place called Hammacher Schlemmer. They have a funny name, but they have an awesome warranty. They claim it's for life, and it's for any reason.

So I called them and told the truth. My Roomba found dog poop and almost precipitated World War III.

And you know what they did? They offered to replace it. Yes, folks. They are replacing the Roomba that ran over dog poop and then died a poopy, watery death in the bathtub - by no fault of their own, of course.

So, mad props to Hammacher Schlemmer. If you're buying anything expensive, and they sell it, I recommend buying it from them. And remember - don't let your Roomba run over dog poop.

Jesse tells the story as though Hammacher Schlemmer were the real heroes, but he is wrong. While mere mortals might have taken one look at that living room and decided to light a match and never look back, Jesse never gave up. He is the true hero here, going above and beyond the call of doody.

Ruth Berhe, better known as Ruth B, is a Canadian singer-songwriter with a song on the charts all because she posted a six-second video of herself singing on Vine. She posted short videos of her playing piano and singing her original song, "Lost Boy," which made it to 24 on the Billboard Hot 100 and 14 on the Canadian Hot 100. Not too shabby. Here are some of Ruth's Vine videos:

And now she has an official music video for "Lost Boy":

She's humble and thankful for the whirlwind success:

It's not surprising that her song went viral and made her a star. Hopefully she continues to love music, and she records more songs longer than six seconds.

Just a gentle reminder as the summer heat becomes unbearable and you are tempted to hang around in your wet swimsuit rather than putting on dry clothes: DON'T DO IT.

No matter if you are a male or female, keeping on a wet bathing suit will wreak havoc on your junk. The inside of a bathing suit is both warm and moist (sorry for using the word "moist"), so it is the perfect place for breeding bacteria that could potentially cause UTI's, vaginitis, and yeast infections. Oh, you could also get something called "jock itch," which both men and women are susceptible to, that according to Huffington Postis caused by a type of mold-like fungi that leads to red, itchy rashes that may grow in the shape of a ring around your butthole and genitals.

There's only a few more weeks of summer left, and you don't want to spend it laying around applying vag cream, so just pack some dry bottoms when you go to a pool party or beach. Your body will thank you.

Usually when mourning the loss of someone who died, we all have to suddenly pretend they were Mother Theresa (who probably was no saint herself). But when William Ziegler passed away on July 29th, someone close to him decided to veer from the tired, traditional obituary route, and instead paint a hilarious, vivid depiction of a man who you wish you could have a beer with (okay, 12 beers). But sorry, you can't, because he died.

The obit accomplishes what all obits should: it makes you miss someone you've never even met. Read on and mourn William, or "Billy," as I call him in my mind. RIP ol' buddy.

Here it is:

William Ziegler escaped this mortal realm on Friday, July 29, 2016 at the age of 69. We think he did it on purpose to avoid having to make a decision in the pending presidential election. He leaves behind four children, five grand- children, and the potted meat industry, for which he was an unofficial spokesman until dietary restrictions forced him to eat real food. William volunteered for service in the United States Navy at the ripe old age of 17 and immediately realized he didn't much enjoy being bossed around. He only stuck it out for one war. Before his discharge, however, the government exchanged numerous ribbons and medals for various honorable acts. Upon his return to the City of New Orleans in 1971, thinking it best to keep an eye on him, government officials hired William as a fireman. After twenty-five years, he suddenly realized that running away from burning buildings made more sense than running toward them. He promptly retired. Looking back, William stated that there was no better group of morons and mental patients than those he had the privilege of serving with (except Bob, he never liked you, Bob). Following his wishes, there will not be a service, but well-wishers are encouraged to write a note of farewell on a Schaefer Light beer can and drink it in his honor. He was never one for sentiment or religiosity, but he wanted you to know that if he owes you a beer, and if you can find him in Heaven, he will gladly allow you to buy him another. He can likely be found forwarding tasteless internet jokes (check your spam folder, but don't open these at work). Expect to find an alcoholic dog named Judge passed out at his feet. Unlike previous times, this is not a ploy to avoid creditors or old girlfriends. He assures us that he is gone. He will be greatly missed.

Now excuse me, I have to take the day off work to mourn my BFF, Bill. Sometimes it feels like I can't go on without him.

Hugh Jackman alarmed some fans on Wednesday when he posted an Instagram picture of himself looking super old and worn down. But don't panic. Jackman is still just as ripped and youthful as always. He only looks like a frail old man because he's filming The Wolverine 3, which features an older Logan/Wolverine. He's just in character, you guys. Phew.

Here's the pic that originally caused a few fans to panic:

Some even took to the comments to voice their concern:

If there were any doubts about how healthy and fit Jackman still is, fans need only check out a few of his other recent Instagram pics:

See? Hugh's as strong and handsome as ever. All you concerned Instagram commenters can put your claws away.

Surprise, surprise, it's yet another Dr. Pimple Popper video! For each person out there gagging at even the thought of watching this (hi, dad!), there is probably another person who is drooling at the prospect of another big lipoma being sliced into and expunged.

No, the woman is not smuggling grapefruit under her skin; that's a fatty deposit. As she begins to work, Dr. Lee checks about a thousand times to make sure she's not hurting the woman, which is very thoughtful. But she also explains that she's talking a lot to cover up the "squishing noises." Then she says the lipoma is like a "perfect baby." Yeah, but this one you won't have to send to college.

Ariel Winter, the 18-year-old star of Modern Family, has been really mastering the art of posting sexy (but legal!) pictures on Instagram lately. For example, here's one she posted on Wednesday:

And here's one she posted on Thursday, with a crop top and a kicky combination running shorts/diaper look.

But let's not forget about her Snapchat, where she posted herself wearing a yellow swimsuit that caused the internet thirst factor to rise by about 300%.

Remember being 18? No, me neither.

The bellwether of "hipster" trends, the Williamsburg Whole Foods, has a new frightful omen sign of the times: LaCroix cakes.

You know, LaCroix: the sparkling water that is tasty and currently everywhere because they understand that people enjoy a variety of flavors and had the good sense to ramp up production when soda sales started going down.

Thankfully, the good people of Gothamist headed to the store to do some in-person reporting:

But they were in for a shock. The Gothamist reporters "were told that the cake was not for sale, it was strictly promotional and made from pieces of other, old semi-stale cakes they were going to throw out." However, Whole Foods quickly realized the error of their ways, and now "with 2-3 days' advance notice they will make you one for $80!"

It'd be easy to hate on this, but you know what? The baker who got to make that LaCroix cake probably had a lot of fun.

Kendall Jenner is on the cover of Vogue,and it's a big deal. The Vogue September Issue is more important than their August, October, November, January, March, May, or every other issue, because it serves as "the fashion bible" for the season. Kendall is now a biblical figure.

The profile accompanying the cover presents Kendall as a determined, established young woman who wanted to be famous for having a career rather than make a career out of being famous.

"Kendall wanted, in other words, to avoid the fate of her sisters—to be careful about fame for fame’s sake, to be known for something solid and tangible," writes Jonathan van Meter.

Throughout her childhood, modeling was Kendall's goal, not something she just fell into. The article also makes a point to say that unlike the rest of her family, she lives in a condo, not a house, a $1.4 million place she bought with her own money (albeit at 18).

Vogue also shows her as a sensitive soul, vulnerable and jealous of Kylie:

Like the person formerly known as Bruce, Kendall is tall and athletic, with an impossibly long torso. She excelled at track and field and soccer in school. Also like her father, she is constitutionally a loner; she spent a lot of time in her room playing video games. “I remember crying in my bedroom about the fact that Kylie had so many friends and I didn’t,” she says. And from about the age of six, she spent as many hours as the day would allow at a barn near where she grew up, riding ponies. One particular horse, Ladybug, was a decent jumper. “She knew better how to do what she was doing than I did,” Kendall says. She likes getting dirty, working with her hands, figuring stuff out.

She's always felt "superdifferent" from her sisters, especially the Kardashian ones, and defended her parents' parenting. Kendall insists that considering the circumstances of growing up in the spotlight, things could be a lot worse:

"If I’m being honest, my little sister and I have every right to go crazy,” she says. “You would expect that from us. But neither of us has the desire to do that. I think it says a lot about the way we were raised. Not even just by my parents, but my Kardashian sisters and what they’ve taught us. My parents did something right, and thank God.”

Though her family gives her the connections, she fears they might hold her back in the biz. When Kendall got her big modeling break in Marc Jacobs's Fall 2014 show, she told her family not to go.

Marc invited my whole family to that first show, and I was like, ‘I love you guys, but can you please just not come?’ I was trying so hard to be taken seriously, like, ‘Guys: This is not a joke or a stunt; this is what I want to do with my life.’ I had to prove that I could do it.

TL;DR:

Her Honour Judge Patricia Lynch QC, a judge previously made famous for telling a flasher "no one wants to see your penis," is at it again. This time, she called a racist idiot "a bit of a cunt."

The defendant, 50-year-old John Hennigan, was in Chelmsford crown court for his 9th breach of anti-social behavior for using racist language against a black woman and her two children. After Lynch gave him 18 months, he called her honor "a bit of a cunt."

Judge Lynch replied, “You are a bit of a cunt yourself.”

He then told her to “go fuck yourself,” so Lynch replied, “you too.”

Can judges do that? British people can send their racists to jail?

Hennigan filed a complaint with the Judicial Conduct Investigations Office (JCIO), but this guy has already been brought in eight other times for being a bigoted piece of human garbage, so you'll see no complaints here.

Imagine seeing your own face on TV during a segment about terrorist group ISIS. That's what happened to a woman in Michigan, who is Muslim-American and has nothing whatsoever to do with ISIS. So her husband was shocked earlier today when he spotted her picture for about six seconds during a video on CNN's website about jihadi recruitment in France, The Daily Dot reports. Not cool, CNN.

The woman and her husband, who were understandably very upset, reached out immediately to the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee (ADC), who asked CNN to remove the image and issue a retraction statement. As of 3:22 EST on Thursday, it was reported the video had been taken down.

The family has no idea how CNN got the clip, which was from a video taken 10 years ago of the woman, ironically, singing the national anthem with an American flag waving behind her.

Abed A. Ayoub, the policy director at ADC, told the Daily Dot the woman was especially concerned about the reputation and safety of her kids. "If somebody at school sees this or in their neighborhood sees this, and all of sudden they think, you know, that their mom is a terrorist,” he said. “These mistakes have consequences.”

ADC reportedly hopes to work with CNN in order to make sure this kind of mistake doesn't happen again. In the meantime, don't believe everything you see on TV.

On Wednesday evening, John Mayer shared a series of “skin hacks” on Snapchat, going through his regimen in "Skin Care Secrets With John." He's just what the world needs: another celebrity beauty blogger. And the glamorous folks at Natura Bissé are probably paying him a whole bunch of money to plug their skin goo on Snapchat. Well, it worked, because we're certainly posting it. Here's the regimen:

One of Mayer's new beauty acronyms (patent pending):

Remember to apply directly! Now onward with the steps:

One last product plug:

And one more Mayer acronym (patent pending):

A mere two hours later, almost done:

At long last, he is a pretty prince:

And that's the story of John Mayer's skin. Sleep well, friends.

A former North Carolina staffer for Donald Trump's presidential campaign is claiming ina lawsuitthat its then-state director pulled a gun on him, and that senior campaign officials refused to take action for the incident. The lawsuit was filed Wednesday by Vincent Bordini against Earl Phillip and the Trump campaign in Mecklenburg County Superior Court.

The suit alleges that Bordini was a passenger in Phillip's Jeep in February when Phillip "produced a pistol, put his right index finger on the trigger and drove the barrel into Vincent's knee cap." So basically it sounds like a scene from the TheSopranos. Bordini said he reported the incident to several Trump campaign officials, including then-campaign manager Corey Lewandowski, with no results.

WCCB reports that Phillip resigned from the Trump campaign this week, just after he was promoted to deputy chair of the National Diversity Coalition for Trump. Neither he nor the Trump campaign have made official statements or responses regarding the lawsuit.

Katherine Heigl responded to Seth Rogen's comments about how she felt about Knocked Up. You follow the comment on the comment on the comment circle happening here?

No, that's not what she said, but close.

Let's start with the comment that started this whole mess. In 2008 she told Vanity Fair:

[The movie] paints the women as shrews, as humorless and uptight, and it paints the men as lovable, goofy, fun-loving guys. It exaggerated the characters, and I had a hard time with it, on some days. I’m playing such a bitch; why is she being such a killjoy? Why is this how you’re portraying women?

Fair point TBH. She most recently told Howard Stern:

[The interviewer] said, ‘You know a lot of women felt it was a little sexist.’ And I felt obligated to answer.

Also totally fair. So why are we talking about this? Because instead of addressing the treatment of women within the film Knocked Up and other celluloid examples of misogyny, Rogen decided to make it about, um, men. He told Stern (in a separate interview)...

I thought we had a great dynamic... And then when I found out afterwards that she didn’t like it, that she seemed not to like the process, and that she didn’t like the end process either... your trust feels somewhat betrayed.

So did he expect Heigl to do a rewrite of the script? Should one woman fix the sexist problems of binders full of men? Is it about the process or someone attacking the patriarchy?

Regardless, Heigl recently said of Rogen:

I think that he’s handled that so beautifully, and I just feel nothing but love and respect. And it was so long ago at this point, I just wish him so much goodness, and I felt that from him, too.

It's good to see there's no ill will toward each other. Because let's be real, Knocked Up is a pretty great movie.

Trigger Warning: Experts predict a major shortage in champagne is on the horizon. We hope you didn't break anything in the process of receiving this news.

Before you start hyperventilating, here's why:

• A late season frost caused a 70 percent loss of crop for some growers.
• Hail storms late in the season hurt some growers, followed by mildew.

They must be prepared, you responded to the bad news? Yes and no. Many suppliers have a reserve for situations like this, but it'll impact quantifies to protect against future unforeseen setbacks.

It's so bad that experts say this is the worst it's been since the 1980s, and this season is the toughest it's been for crop growers since 1956.

So much for those champagne baths.

Maybe switch to Miller High Life. Some people call it the champagne of beers.