If the intrepid albiet slightly knuckle-dragging reader would be so kind as to indulge a moderate departure from the story of Hansel, the loogie and the uniform, blue - there is a story within this story that simply "screams" to be told - it is a story of the genesis of the loogie, from a time Hansel spent in the Amazon.
Yes, "genteel" reader, the Amazon. The place of snakes, and Teddy Roosevelt's bout with consumption.
It is a place manifest in the loogie...one might say, (one being, that is, a potentially knuckle-dragging consumer of fine lit), one such as this might say, that is, it is THE place of the loogie.
In fact, there is is one group of indiginent and highly advanced yet counter-culture and anti-progressive locals there who DEFINE loogie as "Amaxonian Conglomerati" - meaning, of course, "big green mass of goo".
They are a wonderous and somehow strangely peculiar tribe reminding one of some sort of Greek philosophers. In fact, there is intimation that they might just find their roots in Greek society.
Their leader, "Platu", it is thought, derives his name from that obvious paragon of ancient thinking that has so vastly shaped modern thinking, Plato.
But I digress.
When TR traveled the Congo, he left behind a strange disease that it is thought he developed whilst charging San Juan hill. Yes intrepid hairy-backed reader, San Juan hill. It is thought he caught it from a horse, which one can imagine, had massive, massive concerns with excessive spittle (so much so that it had a tendency to "looge" through the nostril of the beast).
Now as everyone knows, TR was quite the lover of horses. "Baby cakes", the horse behind the horse on which he trollipped up the hill - well my dear heavy-browed reader, TR had a tendency to kiss her every night after feeding her a bucket of oats.
Modern forensic scientists are quite certain (but of course, they are not willing to risk their reputations on it) that this is the source of the modern green glob.
Now it is said that TR, upon taking repose on a large rock whilst taking a "breather" in charging ol' San Juan, happened to "hock one up" and, lacking the gentleman's cuspidor, and having found that his valet, "Tutie", was wrestling a rather large crockodile, (something TR found peculiar as he had not expected to find such a creature on the rocky and desolate hills of San Juan - but also something that historians trace as a possible motivation for his later descent into the Amazon to determine how the "blasted beast" had wondered so far from home), spat said hock into wailing crock and thus ended the cavorting between the beast and Tutie.
Tutie, of course, was quite happy in all this.
Now TR made a pet of the crockodile, and called him, appropriately, "Winky" (this due to the infection that set in his eye from the expetorate TR had launched into his eye).
It is said that TR and Tutie, in much later years, took Winky with them on their excusion deep into the Amazon.
Top medical pathogenic historians believe that the source of the modern loogie is either something TR left in the Rain Forest, or perhaps from an encounter that Winky had with a member of the Philo-Pliny tribe (rivals to Platu's group, known locally as "that bunch from up on the hill).
And thus was set in motion the events that would later infect our protagonist, Hansel, when he journeyed the Congo in search of himself - oh yes, and that business that the Society of Royal and Painful Gentlemen had funded for him to find an answer to that age-old question - who wears the pants, Pliny the Elder, or the younger? .
Now, on with the story of spittle that fizzled like a North Korean missile.