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The O-Ring of Fire (7)...
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The O-Ring of Fire (7)...

... Now, if you've never attempted to insert a suppository into your blowhole, well then, my friend, you are fucking MISSING OUT! I've been trying to find the words to describe the process and I have to say I'm at a loss. The best metaphor I can muster up is that it's akin to trying to put an extra Pez candy into a completely filled Pez container. That is, if the Pez candy is 50 times bigger than the container's opening. And if the container's opening is actually my anus.

And then, if and when you get the fucking thing in there, it's gonna just pop right back out in a second… as it rightly should! "Sorry folks, asshole's closed! Moose out front shoulda told ya." But fuck it, I needed to fix the goddamn itching problem, so I sucked it up… so to speak. And I'm lying there, on the bathroom floor, trying to poke this fucking glorified Mike & Ike up my patoot. In it goes, I stand up, POIT! Out it pops. Lie down, push in, stand up, POIT! I felt like a goddamn broken vending machine. "INCORRECT CHANGE! TRY AGAIN!" And I had to perform this little butt dance without the Old Lady walking in and, thus, immediately nullifying our marriage. I had officially, and literally, sunk as low as I could go.

I will admit that, a couple of times, I actually managed to poke the thing in there, stand up, clamp my hand over my clenched ass cheeks and dive into bed, without blasting that fucker outta my ass like an errant mortar round. But after a coupla days of this mostly fruitless barrel-loading, I gave up. You know, I'd rather have an itchy bung than continue with this humiliating game of rectal Whack-a-Mole any longer. What to do… what… to… do…?

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