Weeping Anus

Sometimes it happens when you least suspect it.  Or, if it has happened to you numerous times, you almost expect it.  It is a highly sensitive condition known as Weeping Anus.  And it can strike at the most aggravating or uncomfortable periods of your life.

Note: Weeping Anus is not to be confused with the mixed drink, Weeping Jesus.  

Yes, Kelly, you ask, "But how does one make a Weeping Jesus?"

Here is the recipe, my friends:

First, add a base of crushed ice to your glass, add 1 part absinthe, then gently add 1 part pear or peach schnapps and finally drip in a mere splash of grenadine.  That's it.  Simple and smooth.  :)  You're welcome.

Now, in order to make Jesus weep, that is also simple.  Just be yourself.

Jesus saw that the vibrator you were using has gone unwashed for months.  He worries over your hygiene.  Please, don't disappoint Jesus again.   

Sometimes, your anus will sweat (thus weep) when you haven't wiped well enough in the bathroom because you were in a big rush to go meet someone or you are late for a big meeting.  At the point, after wiping fecal matter from your rectum, you might think you got all the feces from your asshole, but just as if a naughty elf had planted gooseberries in your pants, you are surprised to find out that you didn't catch all of it with the first half dozen wipes.  Then, wouldn't you know it... that's when your butthole begins to get itchy and sweaty due to poop residue.

Weeping Anus Condition can also occur if you haven't washed your ass for a couple of days or if you emit a burst of gas that falls somewhere in the category of fart and shit.

This can be serious business if you're stuck in a seat at the opera house and you don't wish to get up because you're afraid you'll miss something really really exciting while you're gone.  You also might be at that big meeting with someone important and here you are, squirming in your seat, trying to get into a position where it is the least uncomfortable.

anus

Being on a date with that special someone is another fine example of a time when Weeping Anus just isn't an option that you can entertain.

If you have a chance to correct or try to remedy the situation of Weeping Anus, you should try to always to  keep a maxi pad close at hand or an adult diaper, in preparation for such an event.  In a pinch, ask for somebody's handkerchief or bandanna, close by, to borrow for the rest of the day, promising to bring it back to that person, the very next time you see them.  As an option, you may wash it before returning it.

I've also heard of people suffering from this condition as having to resort to picking up stray animals, like a chipmunk or Rottweiler or even a friend's pet to quickly wipe one's poop-juicy rectum.  Desperate times call for desperate measures and I'm certainly not one to judge.  There was one incident where I happen to be at a location where I could stick a small potato up my ass. Not for kicks, mind you, but because of the much dreaded Weeping Anus Condition.  Luckily, it kept "the gravy" from coming sputtering out, only to dribble down my inner thighs, but it made for long, uncomfortable standing in one spot at my wedding during the next hour.

You can just imagine the look on my face when I sneezed, suddenly, and the potato shot out my ass, tearing a hole in my tux pants and instantly smacked into my Aunt Wanda's forehead, knocking her out in a flash in the middle of the proceedings  

Hopefully, you will have soaked up most or all of the juices emanating from your irritated anus by using any of the objects mentioned above.  Warning: If you don't resolve this condition soon, a rash will likely develop and/or your underwear will be completely soaked in the dirty brown sweat from your stanky asshole.  You want to avoid this.

WEEPING ANUS- it's serious business

ALSO: Here are some helpful links that will help you deal with this condition:

Yahoo answers, WHY DOES THE INSIDE OF MY BUTTHOLE ITCH?

And here's the other one, HOW TO REDUCE A SWEATY BUTT 

On a side topic:

Would you like to know more about The Incredible Edible Anus?  Yes, there is a chocolate candy out there that can satisfy anyone's sweet tooth or desire for decadent chocolate. Click the link, please.

Together, we can combat Weeping Anus if we really put our best butt forward.  Just remember, before you go out your door to ask yourself 3 basic questions:

#1- Did I really wipe well enough so that I don't have an itchy and sweaty poophole before going to work, church or a session of fucking the shit out of that special someone in my life?

#2- Should I use more toilet paper to efficiently and thoroughly wipe my ass?  (Perhaps your anus has gotten bigger and you are in need of more tp to handle the situation and get it under control.)  No one needs or wants an uncontrollable anus.

#3- Would installing a bidet in my bathroom help in these matters to successfully cleanse my anus?  Note: Bidets are nice because they squirt warm water along the inside crack of your ass.  Some models have a pulsating stream of water, gently massaging your rectum, leaving you refreshed and climaxed.  MMMmmmm.  Oooohhh.

So there you have it, my friends.  I'm glad I could be of some ASSistance.  Ha ho.  Little joke there.  See what I did?  Yes, that was awesomely clever of me, I know.

In conclusion, go forth, spread the word of this embarrassing condition and help those in need whatever way you can.  Give that needy person a thick piece of bread (white or wheat, preferably) to soak up the sweat coming from their anus!  Sneakily take off your shirt and hand it to your suffering friend or complete stranger on the street and encourage them to push your shirt down into the back of their pants to absorb the butt sweat!  You could also sing a prayer to Jesus!  But don't mention the part where you broke that overused, hair-smothered dildo.  He might just facepalm and go on to help someone with a deadly disease.

And really, he can't be bothered to waste time with a deadly disease when he can end the deep emotional and physical suffering of Weeping Anus.

Rat Pageant and World Naked Bike Rides

Frustrated subway workers, in New York, are attempting to draw attention to what they say is a rat infestation and are offering a free monthly transport pass to anybody who's got the guts and/or stomach to snap o a good pic of one of these furry, razor-sharped teethed, underground doll babies.

Hairy Potter.  He'll wave his furry wand if you want him to strike a seductive pose for the contest.  Just ask him nicely.
   

Though the furry darlings of the vermin community have been known to bite riders, in the past, present, and most likely, future, folks are encouraged to snap pictures of their favorite rat buddy. They can be sent to ratfreesubways.com.  When I visited the site, I saw that they were showing a video of a rat carrying off a pizza.  I witnessed one take off with a goat once.

What's next?

Somebody making out with a rat?

Did I see a little tongue action going on?    Golly.

Speaking of drawing attention, as mentioned above, I thought of something else.  People will, of course, express themselves in ways that draw attention, with the intention of desperately wanting that attention- like these gals here...

Actually, she's a lawyer.  Who knows how many cases she's won?

Lady, it gets hot down there.  Sometimes we just have to let our hairy, beet-red nutsacks hang out every so often.  As men, we understand you gals have your "lady days" with your menstrual periods and such- where you temporarily go insane with mood swings so severe, we're afraid to sleep beside you at night for fear you'll secretly throw out our old favorite cassette tapes or cut out our testicles and use them as earrings.   Just let us guys have our day in the shade or right out in the open and let us expose our  man apples, proudly, for all to see and gaze upon.  If we should draw attention to thine eye, don't throw darts at our wrinkled bags of jizz whiz.  Instead, applaud our display of dignity and pride with great gusto!     

Sometime people just want attention because it's a pathetic cry for help.  Help that perhaps only a therapist or close friend or mate can provide.  Sometimes it's acted out, in various ways, for petty shock value.  And then we have people who draw attention to themselves for a very worthy cause.  Take, for instance, World Naked Bike Rides.  In summary, World Naked Bike Riding events take place all around the world.  People will show their causes, ideas and concerns about pollution, the effects and greed of big oil corporations and more, by riding naked through city streets around the world.

Now that's the kind of attention draw I can get behind.  But not too closely behind.  Some good folks don't know their "behinds" stink because of poor sense of smell.  Who will stand up, with optional gas mask and dare to create a charity or cause for those folks?

Here are a few pics from London's World Naked Bike Ride:

It's good to know the British  police are there to cover the attendees for security reasons.  

Everyone is welcome to engage in the jaunty, admirable event.

Here, we see supporters, riders and spectators in San Francisco's World Naked Bike Ride event.

"Look, Bobby!  A man with wild tiger disguise, not doing a very good job of concealing he has been blessed with the  conscious of a true animal lover, supporter and eco-friendly gentleperson."

  Either that or he's just your average naked dude, out for a pleasant Sunday afternoon bicycle ride.  Who knows?  Just don't grab that chopstick, guys and gals!

And thus, we, or rather, I, alone, at Psycho Carnival, conclude our informative, somewhat jocular, tongue-in-buttcheek posting.  Have a wonderfully expressive day!  And why not ride a bike, take pictures of beautiful subway rats, afterwards, and then paint your naked, sagging ass blue for a change of pace?

It may just make your time on Earth just go that much smoother and stuff.  Later, friends!

Shat The Snowwombat

Before you is a tale of enchantment, whimsy, hope, love and a gathering of woodland creatures, geared towards making you feel all warm and juicy inside. Feel the wonder! Delight in the magic! Behold the bliss-inducing imagery and joy that will surely fill your heart!

Gosh!

when Shat The Snowwombat came upon a gathering of animals. The animals looked at Shat with shock because he was made almost entirely of snow, yet his penis was made of wood. Well... that and he appeared to be more than a bit handicapped looking to the critters of the forest. The woodland wildlife quickly noticed he was shuffling along the snowy grounds with a walking stick in his grip. Shat had been badly injured during an ice hockey game years before and, as a result, found it difficult to get about. This day was the first time he had been out of his snowwombat home in years, braving the adventure of the wilderness. For Shat, this was an act of personal triumph.

But that personal triumph didn't matter to the deer, the squirrels or the rest of the animals. They all laughed at poor Shat. Shat asked the animals, "Why are all of you laughing at me?" The animals shook their heads and began laughing considerably louder. One of the deer turned his gaze away from Shat, in disgust, as if he were an abomination.

The squirrel suddenly shouted, "You're a freak! That's why we're laughing at you!"

Shat's wooden penis pointed downward. When this happened, you could tell he was sad. :(

A fox by the name of Rascal suddenly ran up behind the snowwombat and placed a human's discarded drink container on top of Shat's head. Then he ran back to the mob of animals and joined in their relentless mocking of the creature made of snow.

Rascal the fox exclaimed, "Look everyone! It's King Weirdo and he's wearing his crown!"

Shat cried at the taunting and laughing beasts that began to surround him. This constant mocking of the animals, because he was different, caused Shat to become so depressed, his wooden penis slipped away from between his legs and fell off into the snow. The animals poked and prodded him until he turned around and started the long journey back home.

Before Shat could shuffle across the road into the other side of the forest, a vehicle full of humans came by. Shat called out to them and said, "Please give me a lift. I am afraid I will not make it back to my home before I expire."

The humans were a little afraid of the snowwombat at first. They couldn't believe this "thing" was moving toward them. In fact, Shelly, the attractive blonde in the passenger seat of the car, pissed her panties, in fright. The husband, Jack, asked Shelly, "What the hell is that?" The baby in the back seat began wailing. Shelly said, "I don't know and I don't care. I just want to get the hell out of here. That thing is freakin' me the hell out."

Jack and Shelly had been married only five years and had produced five kids in that space of time. The baby in the back seat was the latest addition. Their other kids were dropped off at one of their parent's houses where the kids would besiege and harass the suffering grandparents all day long. This was a strange and cruel custom practiced by humans quite frequently. Adult humans would often take advantage of their parents by asking them to babysit their offspring for them, promising to be back in a few hours, while they went off to a land far, far away for a bit of serenity or to a hotel to fuck and create more rugrats for the suffering grandparents to take care of in the future. The parents wouldn't be back to retrieve their youngsters until the next day or the next month.

This is how Shelly looked before she had kids.

Humans were very proficient at creating more and more offspring, regardless of the consequences. With that said, even Jack and Shelly agreed this last addition to the family was enough, finally.

After the last baby was pushed out of Shelly's well worn vagina, Jack was thoughtful enough to go down to the hospital gift shop to buy Shelly a lovely card and a festive, colorful balloon that said CONGRATS in big bold lettering. Shelly was overwhelmed when the proud poppa kissed her on the cheek and gave her the gifts.

And this was the card.

Now, curiosity had gotten the best of Jack and he decided to get out of the car to see what the unfamiliar creature was. Shelly begged him to stop and to get back into the car. Jack waved Shelly's concern away and walked toward Shat the snowwombat. Shat was only a few feet away from Jack when he said, "Don't be afraid. Just because I look different from others doesn't mean I will harm you."

Jack's jaw went slack. He was frozen in place and found it difficult to understand that this thing of snow could speak. He wondered, Am I having an acid flashback?

Then Shat, in his attempt to quell Jack's shock and fear, told Jack a joke.

Shat said, "An Alpaca went into a bar, ya see, and as it was sitting on the stool the Pope comes in and sits down at the bar counter beside him. The Alpaca turns his head and says to the Roman Catholic Holy Father, 'Hey, what's that place called- that you hang out at?' The Pope answers, 'That would be the Vatican, my son.' The Alpaca inquired, after smirking, 'Is that the Vatican or the Vati-can't?' Then the Alpaca rears his head back and laughs. The bartender shakes his head at the lame joke. Furious, the Pope jumps down off his bar stool and punches the Alpaca in the face, knocking him out and then proceeds to fuck it hard in the ass until the animal bleeds to death on the bar room floor."

After hearing the joke, Jack becomes enraged and exclaims, "You bastard! I'm Catholic and I know for a fact the Pope couldn't have fucked the Alpaca in the ass and made it bleed to death! The Pope's penis is only two and one quarter inches in length and I oughta know. I've made several booty calls to the Vatican in my day and have sucked The Holy Father's all powerful and almighty blessed skin flute in many a night."

Shat wasn't sure what to say. It seemed his attempt to "break the ice" with the human somehow failed and that the man was acting irrationally. Jack glared at the snowwombat and accused him by saying, "Only a demonic being would make such jokes at the Pope's expense."

Jack walked toward Shat, intent on destroying him.

Suddenly, Shat's fairy godmother appeared from nowhere and stopped time. Both Shat and the magical woman were in a dark place, quiet and free of turmoil.

"My name is Labia Minora and I am your fairy godmother," the wondrous woman stated.

Shat said, "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever beheld in my gaze."

The fairy godmother said, "I know. I get that a lot." Which she followed with a little giggle.

"Now, Shat, I've noticed you've been having a bit of difficulty trying to bond with the woodland creatures and the humans," said Labia Minora, quite exuberantly. She asked, "If there were anything you would wish for, what would that be, my dear one?"

Shat thought about it for a moment and told her what that one wish would be.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After the magical meeting with his fairy godmother had ended, Shat found himself in the exact spot that he had initially met her.

Now Jack and the rest of the beasties of the forest converged upon Shat, ready to tear him apart because he was different and things that he had said.

Pleadingly, Shat the snowwombat cried out, "Please, stay away from me!"

They cared not for Shat's cries of anguish and instead, seemed even more eager to pounce upon him.

With a wave of his walking stick, Shat warned, "I told you to keep at bay!"

Suddenly, a blue mystical bolt flew out the end of Shat's walking stick. This resulted in Jack being turned into a human icicle, buried inside the frozen ground to his chest. The animals were astonished. Shelly grabbed her baby and ran out toward her frozen husband.

Standing next to her thoughtful husband and seeing what Shat had done, Shelly looked at the snowwombat and said, "I'm going to kill you, you freaky little monster."

Shat, frightened, waved his magic stick wand again and turned Shelly into a Snickers candy-loving monster.

The baby was dropped to it's feet as the mother roared like a ferocious jungle beast and ran off towards town, in search of the particular candy made by Mars, Incorporated.

Angry at what Shat had turned his mother into and, more importantly, the fact that he wanted to get some titty milk and she had left with her tits, the baby let out a growl and ran on his little hands and knees, menacingly, toward Shat.

Shat waved his wand again, turning the baby into an odd human/unicorn/clown hybrid and transported him to a carnival sideshow.

Turning toward the angry mob of wilderness animals, Shat waved his wand many more times, causing as much chaos and abominations to appear as he felt the pain in his heart and soul.

The animal who first threw hurtful insult at him, the squirrel, was abruptly frozen, completely and transported to a far away city to lay on top of a cigarette butt waste can like a gruesome decoration.

One of the deer that had mocked him earlier felt a sudden cold draft around his rear end. When he looked back, he found that his butt had been sliced off and his blood and guts were pumping out onto the snow covered ground. Then the deer dropped dead. Where was his butt? Shat had magically transported it to the outside wall of a human's house. The deer's butt hole was turned into a doorbell.

When Shat was finished working his wonders with his magic wand, the snowwombat felt an overwhelming joy fill his heart. Happy with himself once again, Shat shuffled his way back home and turned the cave in which he had lived, into a beautiful fairy land type of castle.

And this, my friends, is where our enchanting story comes to an inspiring close.

Chocolate Pudding And A Slider

The other day, the wife and I were sitting at the new Chinese buffet restaurant in our redneck community, eating, talking and laughing about something I was reminiscing about. I'll get to that story in a second.

After a half hour of us gorging on crab legs and General Tso's Chicken and so on, a family of white trash comes in and plops their big fat redneck asses in the booth behind us. Why they sat behind us when there was no one else in the restaurant is beyond me. Maybe they wanted to flaunt the intellectual conversation they would be engaging in. After eating for a few minutes, they started rambling about what they were eating and how it wasn't that great. In fact, the food is great there. It's just that the hillbillies in our small strung together towns can't handle anything beside plain old meat and potatoes. My wife and I could hear them, quite easily, because they were so loud. I think they wanted the workers and management there to hear what they were gabbing about.

From that topic, they leaped to another kind of conversation....

One of the family members, the oldest dude, said to no one in particular, "You know, the craziest thing I ever had to eat was a White Castle hamburger out of Jennifer's coochie."

I have no idea if 'Jennifer' was at their table at the time but I heard a distinct female giggle following his statement of personal culinary triumph.

My wife heard them and stared behind me, at the guy saying it. She began to laugh. I did, too. I whispered to her, "I guess that's why they call those hamburgers 'sliders'."

I thought what he said was also funny because only minutes before they came in, I was watching my wife eat a tiny bowl of Tapioca pudding. I like Tapioca pudding, don't get me wrong, but to me it looks like sperm. I told her that it looked like a big blob of jizz and she laughed and said, "Yum." She gets my depraved sense of humor and we've been together for over 21 years. In other words, we've said just about every crazy thing you can say to another person and still know it's cool or acceptable.

Anyway, the sight of pudding got me to thinking about the experimental days I had with old girlfriends. Because of one experience I had with one girlfriend, I had trouble eating chocolate pudding for awhile.

Decades ago...

I got the idea to use chocolate pudding on my girlfriend's vagina. As I filled a bit too much chocolate pudding into her twat, she wriggled around on a bed, expressing her enjoyment. Soon enough, I was down between her thighs, eating her pussy. She moaned and groaned and I was getting into it pretty well. But the chocolate pudding was getting everywhere, man. The sheets. My face. Her butt cheeks. But I didn't care. I was a man with a mission. Even if I couldn't tell what was where because of the vast amounts of pudding covering the whole area, I was going to get to the bottom of things.

Soon enough, she was really going crazy and giggling, like I was tickling her or something. Then I was realizing I was tasting something different other than pussy and pudding. I found out, the hard way, that my tongue had slipped into her butt hole. I tasted a distinct hint of poop juice. My brain lit up in shock and fear and I promptly got up from the bed. She said, "I really liked it when you licked my anus. But it kind of tickled.' I stuttered, saying, "But... But I didn't know I was... licking your asshole. I... I couldn't tell because of all the pudding."

And then I screamed.

She said it was okay because she had wiped her ass really good after her last dump. This attempt at consolation failed to console me and I vowed to never use chocolate pudding as part of my sexual experimentation again. Unless, it was to be put on my hardened cock and slurped off by a sexy young woman. Which, actually, that very thing happened later on in life.

I just stuck my prick in a bowl of chocolate pudding, pulled it out and she gobbled away on it like it was a chocolate covered banana. I provided the homemade whipped cream, of course.

Enjoy your desserts!

I Go Away For A Month And The Whole World Goes To Hell

But that's what happens when I'm gone and I will not accept it lightly. No sir, I'm going to have to form my "Army Of Darkness" and root out the cold and the greedy bastards that got us in this bottomless shit hole. When are we going to stop the robbing of the American poor and middle class and make those greedy bastards pay, in various ways, like torture, for instance?

Hey, just an idea.





Ooopsie. I'm letting my psychotic side show.







And what about this Octo-Mom shit? All of this attention paid to a dumb bitch who gets off on dumpin' lil' rug rats out of her vaginal cavity. Can't we pour some cement in that overused hole between her legs? Good gravy!






Anyway, as you may have noticed, I've been gone for close to a month from my emails, my blog and everyone else's blogs. And so on. For that, I apologize.




I was going to bore you as to why I've been away. But you might get violent.


Instead, I shall tell you of a wonderful secret. Tomorrow, we are taking our cat, Mufasa, to the vet. Long-haired and full of bite, Mufasa will cheerfully take a chunk out of your hand if you gently pet her. For free, even. Mufasa's fur is heavily matted and she is so fat she can't lick her back, asshole or junk anymore. I think female cats can have junk, can't they? Hell, I don't know.



We put her on a kitty treadmill once, wearing a jogging suit. That didn't work. We feed her diet food. That doesn't work either. And I've tried chasing her, frantically, around the house while I've yelled, "Whoop! Whoop! Heeba Bah Jeeba!"



Anyhoo, we are getting her put out, to avoid injury to all involved and letting the vet's assistants have the joy of shaving her. Heh heh.





I'll take a picture of her when they're done with her and she's recouped for awhile. I'll post the picture on my next post.






And what about the nun and the alter boy? Will they ever find happiness in their one bedroom apartment? Sometimes you have to wonder.

Got Too Much Crap Beating Down On Top Of Me

(warning: This post contains more depressing topics than humorous ones. So please.... enjoy my hell!)



This is what's going on with me that's making me especially crazy these past few months:



* I've been having problems with my patience and my depression concerning my father's newly diagnosed vascular dementia. It falls on my sister and I to take care of him, of course, since our mother died 3 years ago. It's hard to watch him fade like this. He was, and still is, at times, strong of spirit and able to make perfect sense of things. He was always stubbornly independent and had a good sense of humor. These days, many of those traits might not be seen in him. Hard to watch. It's been a struggle getting Dad to do things, too. There's more to all of this, but that's all I'm going to say.



* Had to see a new head shrink for my depression disorder. You ever hear of BumFuck, Egypt. No? Well, ya see, it means a place that's horribly easy to get lost in, forever, while you curse like a pirate, lop off a head and shit down somebody's neck. That's where my psychiatrist has his business set up. And he's the closest one I could nab that my insurance would cover. Before this, I was able to see a therapist, only two miles away. There's more to all of this, but that's all I'm going to say. See a pattern?



* I've had my type 2 diabetes under decent control for the past 15 years. I only had to take one capsule of Metformin, each day, during that entire time. Then, as my depression ( which I have- due to several things) deepened, I let my health go to complete hell. If I lost my feet, hands or life I didn't care. I ate what I wanted, basically. My blood sugar count has been skyrocketing in the last 6 months.



Here's what I got out of that type of attitude, that I still partially have, even now:



I'm pissing every hour or so like a drunk in an ocean of beer.



My brain is sluggish because diabetes causes your blood to have the viscous quality of molasses. Duuuuuuuuuuuh.



The rare cuts and bruises I get (no, not from the wife) don't heal quickly. I've had the same light scratches on my leg from a month ago.



And I have all the energy of a slug on acid.



And so much more.



So the doctor has me on insulin now. What absolute joy to have to inject a needle in your thigh or your belly, forever. Such merry thoughts are pip-popping into mind. You must realize I'm dancing right now, singing and wishing that I stroke out, fall to the floor and flounder like the big goddam fish that I goddam am. Yayhoo and Kiss My Hairy White Ass. Girls only, though. They-are-so-lucky.



Which brings me to this:



* I've got a fat chunky hemorrhoid sticking out of my ass. Have you ever tried to push a granite like turd out of your ass and feel your asshole rip out? Well, I've done that. And now, every time I wipe, I scream. Whenever I sit, I scream. It hurts trying find your anus with the cream or the hard white capsule that's shaped with points at the ends. Why can't an angel suddenly appear and gently rub a dollop of "heavenly whipped cream" or something in my crack every minute or so? Tinkerbell comes to mind.


Yeah, I know. She's not an angel. But I bet her hands are nice and soft.