Rebel 7
06-03-2004, 04:24 PM
I got this forward from a friend of mine in my email. I don't know if it has already been posted, but here goes:
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 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, 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.
Friends-DON'T SHAVE YOUR ASS-HAIR!
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 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, 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.
Friends-DON'T SHAVE YOUR ASS-HAIR!