 |
|
|
|
|
|
It all started, as many things do, with me having trouble shitting. 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
ass cheeks. 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
butt hair dwelling. Eventually I would have to do two things: either
reach down with some paper 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 and
miscellaneous slime, 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 ass cheeks 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
shit-molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up
after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky shit/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 shit/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 shit 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 ass cheeks. 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.
Friends- DON'T SHAVE YOUR ASS-HAIR
|
|
|
|
|
