Random Thought
“A person who is nice to you, but rude to the waiter, is not a nice person.”

Another Thought...

PostHeaderIcon A story about ass-hair!

I have recently made a mistake in my life, and I offer my story to all though

tasteless, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do,

with me having trouble pooping. No, I was not constipated; this was not a

regularity problem but a matter of technique.

It seems my ass-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were

constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my asscheeks. It led to

much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but

unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butthair dwelling.

Eventually I would have to do two things: either reach down with somepaper and

try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid

smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing

what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could

remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its Can’t-

Be-Flushed threshold. I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed

at the time to be a bright idea. “Hey, this is my butt and my butt-hair, right?

So why don’t I just eliminate all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out

like beer from a keg!” I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in

history with a lot of other regretted statements. “How many Indians could there

be?” said by General Custer. “Looks like a good day for a drive!” by

JFK. “There! America On-line now has complete Usenet access!” by some idiot

system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.

I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel

to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks,

I began the arduous process of ridding my ass of hair. Occasionally, I would

have to clean the razor of accumulated hair, which I did by wiping it on the

towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the

hairless cheeks of a newborn babe. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time,

and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My ass was

smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.

Little did I know. I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in

this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only

after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it

for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I

walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs

and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was

accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two

asscheeks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the

bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I

thought, it would dry. Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with

the microscopic poop -molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I

stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky

poop/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch.

God-DAMN, did it itch! Felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down

my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there

and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm. Unfortunately, this exertion

caused me to sweat, and when I finally

reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like

a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my

ass off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks.

As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and

filled the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it

worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering poop/sweat went into the fan and

blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there,

fighting vomit, my ass cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma

of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own poop blowing right into my

face, I had only one thought: “It will be like this until the hair grows back.

Weeks.” Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping my ass at every

opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for ass-hair – ventilation. I

attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my asscheeks.

Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together,

and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks

like a lost gerbil. As if that wasn’t

enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved

anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine

your ass having the texture of a brillo pad.

Well, that is what I am dealing with now. It is a hellish torture, and there

are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn’t

just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure

this constant agony.


Comments are closed.