Don't Shave That Hair!

"Don't Shave That Hair!"

I have recently made a mistake in my life, and I offer
my story to you, 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 butt -
hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were
constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between
my butt-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 butt 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 baby. Finally, I wiped the razor
one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was
covered with a pile of hair. My butt 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 G~d 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 butt-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 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. G~d-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 again, 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 butt 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 butt 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 butt
at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful
use for butt-hair - ventilation. I attempted to launch
a fart, only to have it get stuck between my butt 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 butt 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 BUTT-HAIR!
Received on Mon Apr 21 07:00:51 2008