Some sage advice.

[DLIT]

Read this in another forum. Good info to pass on here too.

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 shitting.
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 buttcheeks. 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 butthair 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. Occassionally, 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 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 buttcheaks 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 house, 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 house.

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 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 butt 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 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 buttcheeks. 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!

[Mr Lefty]

[DLIT]

This is hilarious too.

"Recently I was honored to be selected as a judge at a chili cook-off. The original person called in sick at the last moment, and I happened to be standing there at the judge's table asking directions to the beer wagon when the call came. I was assured by the other two judges (Native Texans) that the chili wouldn't be all that spicy, and besides, they told me I could have free beer during the tasting, so I accepted. Here are the scorecards from the event:


Chilli # 1: Mike's Maniac Mobster Monster Chili

JUDGE ONE: A little too heavy on tomato. Amusing kick.
JUDGE TWO: Nice, smooth tomato flavor. Very mild.
FRANK: Holy shit, what the hell is this stuff? You could remove dried paint from your driveway. Took me two beers to put the flames out. I hope that's the worst one. These Texans are crazy.


Chilli # 2: Arthur's Afterburner Chili

JUDGE ONE: Smoky, with a hint of pork. Slight Jalapeno tang.
JUDGE TWO: Exciting BBQ flavor, needs more peppers to be taken seriously.
FRANK: Keep this out of reach of children! I'm not sure what I am supposed to taste besides pain. I had to wave off two people who wanted to give me the Heimlich maneuver. They had to rush in more beer when they saw the look on my face.


Chilli # 3: Fred's Famous Burn Down the Barn Chili

JUDGE ONE: Excellent firehouse chili! Great kick. Needs more beans.
JUDGE TWO: A bean less chili, a bit salty, good use of red peppers.
FRANK: Call the EPA, I've located a uranium spill. My nose feels like I have been ing Drano. Everyone knows the routine by now, get me more beer before I ignite. Barmaid pounded me on the back, now my backbone is in the front part of my chest. I'm getting shit-faced from all the beer.


Chilli # 4: Bubba's Black Magic

JUDGE ONE: Black bean chili with almost no spice. Disappointing.
JUDGE TWO: Hint of lime in the black beans. Good side dish for fish or other mild foods, not much of a chili.
FRANK: I felt something scraping across my tongue, but was unable to taste it, is it possible to burn-out taste buds? Sally, the bar maid, was standing behind me with fresh refills, that 300 lb. bitch is starting to look HOT, just like this nuclear-waste I'm eating. Is chilli an aphrodisiac?


Chilli # 5: Linda's Legal Lip Remover

JUDGE ONE: Meaty, strong chili. Cayenne peppers freshly ground, adding considerable kick. Very impressive.
JUDGE TWO: Chili using shredded beef; could use more tomato. Must admit the cayenne peppers make a strong statement.
FRANK: My ears are ringing, sweat is pouring off my forehead and I can no longer focus my eyes. I farted and four people behind me needed paramedics. The contestant seemed offended when I told her that her chili had given me brain damage. Sally saved my tongue from bleeding by pouring beer directly on it from a pitcher. I wonder if I'm burning my lips off? It really pisses me off that the other judges asked me to stop screaming. Screw those rednecks!


Chilli # 6: Vera's Very Vegetarian Variety

JUDGE ONE: Thin yet bold vegetarian variety chili. Good balance of spice and peppers.
JUDGE TWO: The best yet. Aggressive use of peppers, onions, and garlic. Superb.
FRANK: My intestines are now a straight pipe filled with gaseous, sulfuric flames. I shit myself when I farted and I'm worried it will eat through the chair. No one seems inclined to stand behind me except that slut Sally, she must be kinkier than I thought. Can't feel my lips anymore. I need to wipe my ass with a snow cone!


Chilli # 7: Susan's Screaming Sensation Chili

JUDGE ONE: A mediocre chili with too much reliance on canned peppers.
JUDGE TWO: Ho Hum, tastes as if the chef literally threw in a can of chilli peppers at the last moment. I should note that I am worried about Judge Number 3. He appears to be in a bit of distress as he is cursing uncontrollably.
FRANK: You could put a grenade in my mouth, pull the pin, and I wouldn't feel a damn thing. I've lost the sight in one eye, and the world sounds like it is made of rushing water. My shirt is covered with chili which slid unnoticed out of my mouth. My pants are full of lava-like shit to match my damn shirt. At least during the autopsy they'll know what killed me. I've decided to stop breathing, it's too painful. Screw it, I'm not getting any oxygen anyway. If I need air, I'll just suck it in through the 4 inch hole in my stomach.


Chilli # 8: Mount Saint Helen's Chili

JUDGE ONE: A perfect ending, this is a nice blend chili, safe for all, not too bold but spicy enough to declare its existence.
JUDGE TWO: This final entry is a good, balanced chili, neither mild nor hot. Sorry to see that most of it was lost when Judge Number 3 passed out, fell over and pulled the chili pot down on top of himself. Not sure if he's going to make it. Poor Yank, wonder how he would have reacted to a really hot chili?
FRANK: -------------- (editor's note: Judge #3 was unable to report)

[Mr Lefty]

yeah I'd seen that one before still classic though

[Cutty72]

that's some good chili

[OneSickPsycho]

If only the ass-hair guy was judge number 4 in the chili cookoff..

[fatburg]

Last weekend I saw something at Beckley Pawn & Gun that sparked my
interest. The occasion was Valentine's Day and I was looking for a
little something extra for my wife Lisa. What I came across was a
100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were
supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your
assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety....??

WAY TOO COOL! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home.

I loaded two AAA batteries in the darn thing and pushed the button.
Nothing! I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the
button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I'd get the blue
arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs.

AWESOME!!!
(Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Lisa what that burn spot is on
the face of her microwave.)

Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it
couldn't be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right?

There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting
little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really
needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target.

I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a
second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was
going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I
did want some assurance that it would work as advertised.
(Am I wrong?)

So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses
perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and
taser in another.

The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your
assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a
major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your
assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water.
Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.
All the while I'm looking at this little device measuring about 5' long,
less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with
two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, 'no possible way!'

What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best...
I'm sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, 'don't do it dummy,' reasoning that a one second burst from
such a tiny little ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad.
I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it.
I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and . . .
HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION . .WHAT THE....!!!???

I'm pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up
in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and
over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs?

The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a
picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an atempt to avoid
getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.

Note: If you ever feel compelled to 'mug' yourself with a taser, one note
of caution: there is no such thing as a one second burst when you zap
yourself! You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by
a violent thrashing about on the floor.
A three second burst would be considered conservative?
SON-OF-A-GUN, THAT HURT LIKE HELL!!!

A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at
that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed
the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace.
The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally
was. My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face
felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs.
I had no control over the drooling.
Apparrently I crapped myself, but was too numb to know for sure as my sense
of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe
was came from my hair. I'm still looking for my nuts and I'm offering a significant reward for their safe return!!

[OneSickPsycho]

That's a good one too.

[marko138]

Classics.

[t-homo]

The butt hair was disgusting lol. Third one I had heard before but still funny, second I was too lazy to read.