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.

Good Food on 420 Day or Any Other Day

The following is a fictional tale of intrigue and wisdom and stuff.

The three guys were sitting around the living room and enjoying their bowls of stew.  They had just finished smoking a couple joints only an hour ago and they were hungrily gobbling down the contents of their bowls.

Dave managed to stop eating for a moment and said, "What am I eating?  It's fucking delicious!"

Kyle, the dude who cooked the stew, said, without missing a beat, "It's unborn fetuses in a health-minded chunky soup.  The meatier bits were gingerly sauteed and I mashed the undeveloped eyeballs into a paste before adding the hearty broth that I shit from my ass this morning."

Dave nodded his head, understanding.  Then he added, "Well, it tastes great .  Hope you didn't go to too much trouble."

Dig in!

Kyle remarked, "Not at all, my good friends."

Then Kyle, Dave and Rick laughed, simultaneously, knowing that what was said simply wasn't true.  You know, the part about the fetuses, eyeballs and excrement juices.  But Kyle did cook the concoction.

It was actually Kyle's Slow N' Easy Deer Chili that they were eating.  A special recipe he had thought up the night before.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Here, let me give you the recipe.  You can copy it if you like.  But if you don't, I will gut you and use your intestines as a jump rope.  Ha ha.  I'm just kidding.  Look... See the smiley face?  :) People add these to the end of comments to let you know they're joking or that they're trying really hard to be cute or funny or sincere.  I have to add them all the time... on Fartbook, Twitter, sticky notes and sometimes this blog or wherever- because if I don't, some good, yet not particularly intelligent folks might get the wrong idea.  :)

Wouldn't want that to happen.  :)

In any case, if you don't want to eat the meat of Bambi, you can substitute ground beef, ground sausage, ground turkey or semi-fresh finely chopped unborn fetuses.  Also: You will need a Crock Pot or slow cooker.  Don't try making this with the hollowed out skull of a long dead hobo.  The ingredients simply will not fit and will not be cooked properly.

First, the ingredients to this simple, delicious recipe:


2lbs. ground venison
1 1/2  30 oz. cans of tomato puree
A big jar (roughly 24-28 ounces) of medium to hot spicy salsa
A bag of frozen chopped peppers and onions (or, if you're fancy, find the peppers and onions your own damn self and chop them up- fresh)
Add a 15 oz. can or 30 oz. can of chili or kidney beans (optional- depends on how much you want to fart later)
and a 1lb box of elbow macaroni or whatever pasta you want
Add about five to six tablespoons of chili powder 

The basic ingredients

Cook or boil what needs to be cooked or boiled (I hope I'm not making this too complicated for ya) and put it all in a Crock Pot or slow cooker.  Pour water into the mix til it almost reaches the rim.  Leave about a one inch space.  You don't want it to bubble over and make a mess.  I won't help you clean it up.  I'll be busy.  You don't want to know.  :)

Look closely, on the right and you'll see the Pillsbury Doughboy getting his wife, Poppie Fresh, brutally hard, up the ass.  His unique penis has the form and bend-ability of a long white elephant trunk.  But don't let their crazy, lustful actions shake and knock over your kitchen items!  Sometimes, I'll watch them for hours, go at it.   Envy is thy shame!

Lastly, stir it all up with a big fuckin' spoon or your big hairy arm.  Set the cooker on low for 6 to 8 hours. Put the glass cover over the slow cooker or Crock Pot.  Don't forget to take your spoon or arm out!  If you wish, after it's done, mix in a couple tablespoons of pepper sauce.


During your waiting time, be sure to catch up on some important projects you've been putting off.  Masturbate furiously to monkey porn.


And wallah... after it's done, eat up.

MMMMmmmmm.  It really is good.  And hearty.

Have a great day and night, everyone! 

I Found A Pubic Hair In My Shrimp

A couple weeks ago, my wifey and I went to our favorite Chinese restaurant/buffet and pigged out. We love almost all the food on their big buffet and look forward to hitting it up every so often. The food there is very tasty and they have a wide variety of seafood on the bar- always a plus with me, since I can never get enough crab legs and shrimp.

But, as things always seem to go, when you like something for a long time, something will happen that will eventually put a damper on it. In the case of eating at one of your favorite restaurants, that something could be bad service, cold food or being placed next to a table full of screeching monkey children that won't stop screaming like banshees.

That last one I mentioned is practically a deal breaker for me since I have a very low threshold for loud, needless noise and suffer from anxiety. The parents who allow this type of unacceptable behavior to go on and on without taking Junior or Juniorette out of the place so the patrons can have a nice, quiet meal that they're paying for, are the ones who need to be taken out to the woodshed and given a couple good whacks with a sledgehammer and a poke with an electric cattle prod, for good measure. The parents could, at least, put a sound-proof muzzle on that adorable, shrieking child-thing of theirs. I won't call it child abuse or call the authorities on you if you do it. If fact, I'll slip you a few bucks to go to the nearest pet store so you can pick one up. Who says I'm not a giver?

Bad service, if it is kept to a minimum, is something I can handle if it only happened once or twice during the dozens of times I've gone to a certain eatery. Cold food- the same way.

But this time something different happened. This time, I went to the buffet bar and brought back a plate of breaded shrimp and boy, did they look good- until I happened to notice a long black pube sticking out of the tail end of one of the shrimp. The slightly kinked hair was about 2 or 3 inches in length and it was in there, stuck very securely. I tried pulling it out, using a napkin and the damn thing wouldn't come out. Now, I know it wasn't mine. I have brown hair. And I know it wasn't another customer's. Who would, after all, take the time and trouble of plucking a single hair off their head and pushing it deep in between the shell end of the shrimp and the meat of it and then putting back into the tray with the rest of the shrimp?

Especially, when they would be easily caught by every other patron, scrambling around, dishing up food on their plates?

No, that mission would be too tough to accomplish.

Look closely at the pictures of the shrimp and questionable hair, click to zoom in and speculate amongst yourselves. This is a real detective's case here, I tell you. One for the books. I ended up wrapping the shrimp up in a napkin, took it home with me and photographed the evidence. I had to throw it away, not long afterwards, because the cat was trying to get at it to eat it and I didn't want him to gag and choke to death on the pubic hair. How would I explain that to the vet?

After all, I didn't want the vet to think I was forcing my schlong down into my cat's mouth and a pube came off and somehow lodged itself in his throat. You have to worry about things like that, you know.

I say the hair/culprit came from the kitchen where the Chinese cooks were cooking the food. I don't know for sure it was stuck firmly in the shrimp, intentionally and I'm not sure if it was a pubic hair, either. When I showed it to my wife, she gasped and then asked, "What is that?"

I said, "I think it's a pubic hair."

She replied, "Well that's gross, no matter which part of someone's body it came from."

I agreed.

Then we both laughed. Wifey asked if I was going to show it to the manager and I replied that I thought it wasn't worth it. The manager would probably think I put it there and the whole thing was too embarrassing to bring up. I'm sure it was an accident. I wasn't looking for a free meal on behalf of the manager or any other compensation that the manager might have given us. Being that this was the first time something like this had ever happened there, I let the matter drop.

Besides, it's not like I actually put the shrimp in my mouth. If I had, and discovered it rubbing against my tongue, I would have been incredibly pissed and went on a mad killing spree back in the kitchen. I would have bounded through the kitchen doors, unannounced. Throats would have been slit with sharp, handy knives. Screams would be heard throughout the dining area. And everybody would be sad. Except me. I would likely just be exhausted from all that hard work and need to drink some of that delicious green tea they have there to quench my thirst.

Perhaps it was an accident. Or perhaps, in a stretch of the imagination, a cook was mad at all of us American heifers, waddling our fat asses in the place and scarfing down rice rolls, dumplings, crab legs, Orange chicken and pubic hair shrimp.

Who knows? It gave me a topic to post about, anyway. That's the important thing.

Thank Buhjesus, The Holidays Are Almost Out Of Here

I hate the goddamn weather around here. It's so schizophrenic.

Check it out. Seventy degrees Fahrenheit for almost 24 hours. Suddenly, within a few hours after this period, it drops to thirty degrees. Somewhere between these extremes, we get hit with freezing rain. The result of this produces a quarter inch glaze of ice on the interstate highways. Dozens of accidents and traffic jams all across the tri-state area pop up faster than you can say, "Oh my God, that crazy bastard in the vehicle up ahead of me is going the speed of light." Then, if you're an even bigger moron, you cry out loud, "Let's try to catch them!"

And then you do catch up to Idiot Number One. Instantly, you crash, joining him or her in a horrendously bloody seven car pile up. When metal meets flesh, it's always a grand time. Hooray. Hooray.... and then some.

But, not really.

People seem to be their dumbest when weather conditions are at their worst.

Let's see. What was the point I was making here? My train of thought has derailed. Oh, yeah.

Unfortunately, I had to get out in all this muck because the wife and I fell behind in the ol' Christmas Is Here, We Have To Prepare And Make like Rabid Pit Bulls Department.

While my wife was at work, I was in a hurry to get to the grocery store. I wanted to get there before the freezing rain came down that night. I had to get a bunch of stuff for the Christmas dinner party my wife and I were going to do for the family. I had my list. I had my coat on. I thought I was good to go.

I get to the new Kroger's Store. Get my grocery cart. Looking at my list in hand and running over the heels of customers in the store, I make my way through about six or seven aisles. Strangely enough, as I roll by some customers, I'm surprised to discover they are smiling at me. Showing teeth and everything. Being the paranoid bastard I so charmingly have become, I begin to wonder why. Usually, people scowl and sometimes, grimace toward me. I think they're just jealous of my good looks. I smile back at them.

Hahaha. And then some.

Eventually, I hear the clank-clank-clank of metal against metal. I look down. I can't believe my belt is completely unbuckled. I can't believe I couldn't hear my damned belt buckle hitting the back of my cart. Only the top button on my pants are fastened. The only force field keeping my junk from falling out are my tighty whiteys. Darn it. Forgot to wear the fuzzy thong. Wait a minute. That's my ass hair!

Anyway, that's why these freaks were gazing upon me and smiling like loons. They thought I was nuts. Or a molester or flasher or something. I wonder what they thought when they saw me smiling back at them.


Me-Me from The Screaming Me-Me twisted my arm and threatened to cut off my junk unless I put up this post. Gosh. How violent.

For more information on my ass hair, check out http://psychocarnival.blogspot.com/2008/12/nostril-hair-and-cock-eyed-folks.html

You will be richly rewarded.

Nostril Hair And Cock-Eyed Folks Irritate Me

Damn, I hate it when my nostril hair gets so long that it tickles. Really irritating. The battery in my nose hair trimmer is dead so I ended up using my electric shaver. That was awkward because of the angle you have to get at in order to get the job done. And it hurt, too. Does anyone here have a hairy ass crack? I do. But I'm afraid to shave it because the hairs will just get longer. If I did shave my ass crack hairs, I'd have a mullet growing out of my ass within days. My hair on my body (head, back, chest and crack) grows rapidly.

I'm a hairy goddamn beast. Deal with it. By the way, people who are offended by hairy assed people like me, can go jump in a vat of steamy, liquefied shit.

I was at Bob Evans restaurant the other evening when I was approached by a night manager who was cock-eyed. She was cordial, asked how the service and food was, which was great. But..... SHE WAS COCK-EYED. And by God, that really irritates me. I never know which eyeball to direct my attention to when talking to somebody like that. The whole time she was rambling on to me and the rest of my family, I could not gather my thoughts to give her a response to whatever she was blathering on about. I felt like shouting, "Goddamn it! Which eyeball should I speak to?!"

But I kept myself from doing that with the help of myself jabbing a fork in my leg, under the table. Sometimes I restrain myself this way. You should try it the next time you happen to have a fork and feel as though you want to say something inappropriate. Happens to me all the time.

Cock-eyed folks should be required to follow certain rules that the rest of us normal-eyed humans don't. One rule, off the top of my head would be, before speaking to anyone, tell that person which eye to look into during the discussion. And don't say left. And don't say right. Because your left might be my right and so on. Instead, point to one of your freaky, side-gazing eyeballs and shout, "This one, goddamn it!"

I would appreciate that bit of courtesy. So would the rest of us normal-eyed humans. Thanks. If you need me, I'll be in front of the mirror, shaving the tops of my ears.