My Butt Hurts

What the hell happened to my butthole?

Let me start here...

Sunday evening I was starting to get my wits back. You see I had been drinking like a sailor (more like a Marine) the night before. This really has nothing to do with what happened next (or does it??).

I was about to throw a pair of sweats on and sink into a Lazy Boy to watch a little "Rome" when I feel (and hear) my stomach rumble. Oh yeah, I guess last nights drinking has finally decided to catch up with me. The gurgle was enough to trigger a brisk walk to my salvation area.

Yes, the bathroom. I call it this because I have a young child and sometimes I'll even fake having to take a dooker just to get a little 10 minute "its all about me" rest. Pathetic, yes I know...but you get your small slices of joy where you can.

I digress.

I storm through the bathroom door and actually struggle a little to get the boxers down in time for an explosive Havanna Omelete. I mean it is loud, erratic, and extremely smelly. I am in mid-shit actually considering if I will have to do a quick toilet brush swipe when this is all over. The thing that is different from the Sunday evenings past is that this particular movement actually has an itchy kind of burning sensation. Nothing to be alarmed about at this point, but just a little tougher on the old ass pipe than usual.

I complete the act with little trouble and I gotta tell ya, my belly feels nothing but sweet, sweet relief.

I wad up a little extra paper from the full roll next to me in anticipation of some extra TLC and a potential "finger-poke-through" (you cant be too careful) and begin a deliberate wipe.

HOLY GOD!

Its like I just wiped my ass with a broken beer bottle! What the hell happened? A "roid?" oh God don't let it be a roid...a polyp? I don't even know what that is. Is it some kind of venomous insect that found its way into my underwear and bit me?

I decide its best to grab a little lotion from the toiletries stand next to the thrown and apply it liberally to the paper before each wipe. WOW, this feels much nicer. Repeat this step 3 or 4 times until I'm sure there is nothing to blow into my underwear later and I get up. I think about a shower, but I want to watch my show. Nothing else to report at this point.

Monday - Get up and go to work. Cup of Joe and an Apple. Instant laxative. I go into the work shitter.

HOLY GOD its back! My ass is on fire. Like I just sat on a ground nest of yellow jackets. I wipe a tear from my eye and begin a wipe that would bring an Ultimate Fighter to his knees. Holy Fuck how bout the boss coughing up for some 3 ply instead of this $5 per case freezer paper.

Tuesday - See Monday (I actually look down to see if somebody put a cactus in the bowl)

Wednesday - After my Joe and an apple I am considering holding it as long as I can. I make it about an extra 1/2 hour and my knees and chest hurt so much, I surrender - See Tuesday

Today (Thursday) - On my way in to the office, I am worried and actually thinking about what I can potentially rub on my ass before my Joe and Apple to ensure an easier delivery.

Butter! I think there's butter in the work fridge. What better natural lubricant? This will definitely dull the shards of glass that will soon be piercing my lower regions. When I get here I go right for the cooler, throw open the door and grab the old Oleo.

What the hell am I doing? Its come to this? Am I an animal or some sicko? Could you imagine somebody walking in during application? Or worse my guilt after putting this back in the Kenmore when I'm finished? Thats just wrong.

I decide against it.

Before my Joe and Apple, I actually feel a rumble. Lets get it on. Now I'm just pissed. I head into the shitter and let 'er fly. I haven't been this scared since Poltergiest in the theater when I was 11. That was a PG movie??

I'm off-track..sorry.

Nothing...no pain...no tear...no horror. Just the regular ole shot gun full of pudding against the back of the bowl. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I hope its really over. What the hell was that anyway?