24 September 2012

Really Grody Humor

A friend told me that he had once ("Only once?" I asked) made a really serious mistake in his life. Here it is, just as he told it to me. He said that he hoped others would learn from his error. He said that it started when he had to take a dump and was having a little trouble.

Of course he told it to me in the first person. So that one will not mistake this as my confession, I am having to change his story to third person.

He said that he was not constipated and the problem had nothing to do with regularity. It was a matter of technique. Seemed that his crotch hair had grown to a length that tiny grogans were constantly getting entangled in the hair between his ass cheeks.

Furthermore he was frustrated to the point that he knew he still had something to drop, but was unable to shake loose the tenacious dingle berry from its dwelling. Eventually he would have to do one of two things: either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the lingering bean (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over his rear, especially since he had no way of seeing what he was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that he could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its can't-be-flushed threshold.

He told me that he was contemplating this problem, when he 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," That's what he said to himself.

It was a statement that would go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements. Asked by General Custer, "How many Indians could there be?"  JFK could have said, "Looks like a good day for a drive!." Some idiot system tech probably said, "There! America On-Line (AOL) now has complete internet access!" Such was his anal shaving idea.

He 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, he began the arduous process of ridding his ass of hair.  Occasionally, he would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which he did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, both buttocks and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn baby. Finally, he wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed his work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair.  His ass was smooth as ivory. He said that he smiled, satisfied, thinking his troubles to be over.

He admitted later that could not believe just how naive he had been.

He said since he now has a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world nature created, it has its mighty purpose in its existence. It was only after he had removed it that he started to learn how much it had been taken for granted.  For one, it provides friction. He learned this the next day, when he walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, he started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in his crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of both ass cheeks sliding past each other with every step.

Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic dingle berries lingering around his anal orifice.  When he stood up after class, his cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky shit/sweat combination.  As he made his way back to the dorm, it started to itch.  DAMN! Did it ever itch!  Felt like a swarm of ants was making way up and down his crack. Fighting to keep from jamming his hand down there and scratching away, he rushed back to the dorm. He thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to lass.  Eventually, he figured, it would dry.

Unfortunately again, this exertion generated more sweat, and when he finally reached his room, his cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads.  Quickly dropping his pants, he attempted to dry his ass by sticking it in front of a fan with cheeks spread.  As he pulled the two buttoks apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room.  Every dog within a four block radius started to howl.  Worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering shit/sweat went into the fan and blew back into his face.  He fought to keep from heaving.  As he sat there, fighting vomit, his cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of body odor mixed with the stinky smell of his own shit blowing right into his face, he had only one thought: "Will it be like this until the hair grows back?  Weeks no doubt."

Later on, trying to deal as best he could, wiping his ass at every opportunity, he discovered another wonderful use for that hair location ... ventilation.  He said that he attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between his cheeks.  Apparently, with no hair, the two buttocks tend to get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between his cheeks like a lost gerbil.

As if that wasn't enough, he was 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 sand that can't be shaken out of ones skivvies.  That was what he was dealing with.  It is a hellish torture. He said that there and there many times when he just looked out the window and contemplate why he shouldn't just jump out and get it all over with in one big splat, rather than enduring the constant agony.

This story, however grody it may be, has a moral though ... watch what you shave.

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