Monday, March 30, 2015

Butthole Bleaching And Gasoline Tailpipes

I have been tactfully trying to shed light unto this otherwise dark (so many puns, so many puns) topic for a couple of weeks.  I have been trying to think of  clever titles (Blackholes Begone) or just blatant shock titles...pretty much anything with the word Asshole in it.

But as I am a lady, and my father reads this blog (I'm not really worried about my mother, because when we broached the topic over lunch one day about shaving  buttcracks, my mother wasn't shocked, just convinced that average buttcrack doesn't have hair), I decided against anything with the word ass in it.

So I just simply stated it as it needed to be stated.

Now, for those of you not "in the know" with what's "on trend" these days, apparently bleaching one's chocolate starfish is something that is becoming more common place.

It should also be noted, just in case it's not clear, I would try, and come to think of it, have tried, many things at least once.  There are other things that I have not yet dabbled it, but if the opportunity arose I just might partake.

For example, if someone said "Amy, would you like to try corset training for 14 days?"  Well, I might consider that.  I've seen me in a corset.  And it's rather amazing.

OR

If someone said would you like to try:


  1. hair dye made of koolaid 
  2. American flag contact lenses
  3. a new diet pill that may cause nipple hair
  4. the "shocker" (note to my father AND mother: don't google it)
Well, I would probably try those things.  I mean, I've tried raw oysters and mullet from a mason jar (I threw up immediately after the mullet, and I had tried to warn Heather's cousin Henry that I was going to puke if he made me eat it...but he didn't listen.  Now we all have that memory).

But I ain't bleaching the butthole.

And let me tell you why.

Once, when I was probably 14ish, I worked at this marina at the lake.  Lake Perry.  It's in Kansas.  It's basically a man made lake that usually looks like chocolate milk.  Delicious.  But anyways, I was working at this marina and would pump gas from time to time.  Well this older ski boat pulled up and I was chatting away with the occupants while I pumped the propane into their little vessel.  This was clearly tiring, so I sat down on the side of the boat while pumping and talking.  Now, as this was an older model water vessel, the hole for the fuel was on top of the side railing.  And as this was an older gas pump, it didn't have a shut off valve for when the fuel started coming close to the top.

Here.  Let's look at this highly technical rendering I made for you in this highly technical program called 'Paint'.
That's me sitting on the boat.  That black circle is where I was putting the pumped gas.  Well, if you can see where this is going (sorry, I was just distracted by how absolutely amazing that picture is), as I was talking to the people in the boat (strangely missing from my amazing picture), the gas shot out of the hole.

Now this boat came equipped with teak embellishments that ran down the edge.  Basically little wood runways for the now overflowing gas.  I didn't move quick enough (shocking I know since I am known for my speed), and I was kind of heavy so therefore the front of the boat was a little out of the water and the back of the boat where I was sitting was a little more "submerged", so the gas ran down the side of the boat and although I am not sure of the physics or engineering of what I am about to claim happened, in my fear  I must have sucked air not only in my mouth (like a gasp), but up my butt.  Like a butt gasp.

 Well, it gulped that gasoline right up the tailpipe.  And while I have never gone along with "it's ONLY an out hole, not an IN hole" philosophy, I will tell you gasoline should never go up your butt.
It burns.  It burns bad.

And while there was no permanent physical scarring, apparently there was some psychological scarring.  Because to bleach one's butthole, well, it's exactly like it sounds.  Someone, probably a tiny lady that doesn't really want to be rubbing your pucker, has to apply the bleach and rub it in.  And then let it really sink in.  And guess what?  Depending on the darkness of your nether hole, well you MAY need up to 6 treatments.

Nope.

Not for me.  It may be for you.  And I support you.  No one really sees my butthole though, so maybe I am not the target audience.  Upon researching this topic however, I did learn that butthole bleaching is now leading to bleaching of the labia.  Say what?  There will be no turkey gobbler bleaching.  Who wants chemicals that close to your "man in the boat" (read: clitoris) anyways?  Mama likes her giblets just how they are.

So there.  Now your Monday is complete.  Now you know things you may have never really wanted to know.

You are welcome.

Go in peace.

5 comments:

  1. OMG. Snorted wine up my nose. May I copy this and give it to my gyno patients who ask me about butthole bleaching. Butthole gasp - hilarious. I'm sorry that happened to you. Really. :-)

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  2. The question I ask is "how many people see your butthole that you should need to bleach it??" "Love me, love my dis colored butthole" -- that's my philosophy.

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  3. I'm dying. I am literally crying into my keyboard.

    Ohhhh, KS lakes....could they get any shittier????? (pun intended)

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  4. I love your candid story telling and laugh with nearly every post. This one is freaking hilarious. Thank you for the education and PSA on a topic I knew little about.

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