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anna

Get dressed, get blessed try to be a success

by anna at 07:50 PM on August 02, 2005

Colonics are a way trendy thing among new age types. You go in there, lay down and they rig up this hose that pumps fluid into your anus in copious quantities. It has to be cuz your digestive tract is miles long. The fluid permeates every nook and cranny of your innards. Somehow they get it to come back out. And that is when the fun begins. The tube is clear so you can watch your entire culinary history float by on its way to the most revolting vat this side of an outhouse. Some surprising things have turned up: Matchbox cars, fake fingernails, undigested gristle, wads of chewing gum, Popsicle sticks, gnawed off penises and mutant watermelon vines that took root in the sludge. It's supposed to have a cleansing effect.

Now there's no way I'm allowing that to happen. My asshole is most decidedly an exit not an entrance. I don't care if you're Angelina Jolie and you promise to let me reciprocate, there's no way I'm letting you strap on a dildo and pork me in the ass. Just forget about it.

But I do think it would be kind of cool if they had a colonic for your mind. If you're anything like me, you've forgotten more experiences than you can recall. So they pump some potion into your cranium and all those submerged memories come wafting by like that undigestable Grand Slam breakfast you had at Denny's a week ago.

How it felt the first time you fell in love and put that regrettable inscription in the wet concrete. The shame of waking up with a one night stand and rifling through their wallet to determine their name. That startled feeling of being pulled over by police with contraband in the car. Being cold-cocked in a bar by the ex of a girl you were chatting up. Your early childhood. Heavy petting zoos. That time your drunken girlfriend took the stage to sing along with a Motley Crue cover. Practical jokes gone horribly awry. Times you've come up with a perfectly snappy retort but too late. That time you were sitting with a guy on the couch, went to get another beer and came back to find him having whipped out a Coke can-sized monster. All the carefree joy, surprises, embarassments, tense moments, despair, death, birth, betrayal, laughter and bitter dissapointments that make up a well-examined human life.

comments (10)

Speaking of shit:

http://tradinganddrugs.blogspot.com/2005/08/my-short-for-next-quarter.html#comments

got a picture of lockheed(me) there too, for those of you who wondered...

by lockheed at August 2, 2005 10:00 PM


O shit. The porcelain doll strikes again.

by anna at August 3, 2005 7:39 AM


I had the 'asshole is an exit' policy, had a strong record that I thought would last a lifetime too, but then my ol' man got cancer of the colon and my doc suggested I go get checked. So I did. This was about a year ago. When I went I was happy to be introduced to a not great looking doc, but she was a she, and that made the world of difference. We talked for a bit about what'd happen and she let me decide if I did want something poked up my arse, and a piece of it stolen.

When it came to doing it though, my life being the way it is, and God or whatever being as cruel as he is, saw a lanky string of piss black male doctor come into the room when I was lying on my side with my derriere exposed. I started laughing when I saw him walk in. He introduced himself while slipping on those latex gloves, assuring me this wouldn't take long. So the female doc had never done this before, nice, and she was going to be watching to see how it was done, brilliant, and a tall black guy will be the one doing it... eee, fantastic.

Anyhoo, the five minutes or so that it took for him to shove a pump or something up there, inflate my ass, poke around with a camera or something, and then use a pair of tongs or something to clip away a tiny morsel of tubing, were the worst and most uncomfortable five minutes of my life so far. I actually asked at one point: "Am I shitting back there?" Because it felt like I was, the female doc assured me that I wasn't, though. Anyhoo, on the drive back home, I had to pull over because my innards were giving me shocks of pain. I didn't bleed like the doc said I would, though. But I swear, having a no entrance policy should stand and not faulter, even under threat of cancer. Worst thing is, the air they pump in has to come out, and you have to make your way down to ground level in the hospital elevator. Pity the foo who gets in with you.

Its nice to share this stuff. :) Sorry.

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at August 3, 2005 1:07 PM


Have you ever seen the doubledecker? A gal takes 2 @ once up there.

by anna at August 3, 2005 6:14 PM


I don't know where I got a year ago from, it was only a few weeks back. :/ I have no sense of time. Probably why I can't believe the way I look these days, I'm a man, fully grown... what's that all about!? I'm starting to like trousers a little too much, a sure sign of aging, isn't it?

The doubledecker, yes, I tend to avoid the chocolate bar with the same name. I don't like the idea of gang bangs, or even threesomes, makes me feel sick. Gang bang porn is bad, especially when the gal is young, talking the talk - the 'oh yeah give it to me baby' stuff - but is clearly becoming ill as the movie progresses. Pupils dilating, finding it difficult to swallow, sore, tired... ill. Beyack! *shudder* Eight guys, one gal, five guys standing around masturbating while three are all but tearing the flesh off some bird, stretching orifices that really shouldn't be tampered with. I imagine by the end of it the gal sports an absolute wreck of a body, and at least four of the guys feel let down due to lack of action. She'll never strain on the toilet again though, I reckon.

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at August 3, 2005 7:34 PM


The doubledecker strikes me as a tres gay kind if thing. By definition there is friction, and eye contact and....I don't even want to think about....that.

by anna at August 4, 2005 7:42 AM


More than friction, you'd be sharing a tiny orifice. It'd certainly force some dry heave gagging from me. And the point of it is? The asshole is an exit policy applies to women too, I've never fancied dipping my wick into that particular orifice... it ain't clever, it may not be clean, and it simply doesn't warrant any attention at all. It's the hole from which stuse is ejected for gods sake... it has no other purpose!

by Ex Crimson Guard NCO at August 4, 2005 7:16 PM


The ravings of the young. Older folk crave variety.

by anna at August 5, 2005 7:33 PM


I like big butts and I can not lie
You other brothers can't deny
That when a girl walks in with an itty bitty waist
And a round thing in your face
You get sprung

by Long Time Lurker at August 6, 2005 12:59 AM


Yesterday they held the annual "plus size" beauty contest. What a show! Brothers tuned in in droves. Not really, nobody did.

by anna at August 6, 2005 8:24 AM



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