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Bleached ARSEn

There are innumerable ways to augment the body in order to achieve a status that is considered alluring. If it were to be numerical, it would be thirty-six. Yes. Thirty-six is a fine number.

The one I am intrigued by is number 10. Anal bleaching.

I am proposing that everyone should have a bleached anus. It is not just for those who suffer from anal retentiveness. I say, let’s put another coat of color on that chocolate starfish. Let’s put some Clear Eyes on that puckered brown eye. Let’s turn that that o-ring into a white halo.

But how you might ask. Perhaps you do not want to schedule an appointment to visit your local cosmetic surgeon, or maybe it’s just not the same when you rub lotion on your own anus. If that be the case, I have the cure.


Now, if you try to tell me you do not poop, then you have no need for anal bleaching. Also, you are missing out on the eighth wonder of the world: deucing. For those of us who do use the facilities normally referred to as the bathroom, then this is for you.

Fill your toilet with bleach. Number one, it is a cleansing agent. Number two (which is what will provide the trigger to this catalyst), it will bleach your anus. In my experience, feeding the porcelain god can backfire. I say let’s use the backfire to gain results. What is this backfiring? It is when you poop, and the water splashing against your arse. For some reason, it never seems to miss the anus. Have you noticed that? They say water has no feeling, but those droplets of water seem to always zero in on the zero. Maybe it makes your stand up and yell, “Whoa! Homie don’t play dat!” Or maybe, for you freaks, you like it. In any case, what if we could turn that experience into a bleaching opportunity? Yes, it will have a burning sensation, but a white asshole comes at a price.

What will such a product be called?

Bleached Arsen

Bleached Arsen – You know it’s working when it burns.

Extra Joke:

How do you know you are an asshole?

When you go to the dentist for a whiter smile and he recommends anal bleaching.


READ Bookshelf

Books. Only a letter away from having my complete interest…You know, ’cause I love to cook and all. Ahem. Ahem. Still, I stand not at ease with books, but at attention. I love a finely worded sentence that when woven together with one thousand six hundred and ninety-one others, placed on a delicate roll of parchment, and professionally bound, construct a book. Books provide me with a mind-bind fond-bond experience! Once upon a time I thought about becoming a librarian. (Sidenote: Are you aware that all librarians have master degrees? I was completely unaware of the educational prowess it took to become a librarian. It turns out that you do not just need a pair of glasses.) Instead I settled upon a career in teaching. Just the same, fortune and fame are not in my future. Only an ample amount of free time awaits me. Such is the horrible trade-off (>.>). But with that time I can read these books that I have so fervently excreted over. Ever hear of the white album? Yeah…

I enter into sporadic spurts when involved in books. There will be months on end that I only read for necessity, and not out of the necessity of pleasure. Then, out of the fog (because the blue is limited in my realm), I will immerse myself in word soaked paper and read. I have been tracking my progress with; a site I suggest you join and friend me, even if we are not actually friends and it is just a mutual agreement to criticize one another’s atrocious reading selections. Well, your atrocious reading selections, unless of course you are reading what I am. Then it is okay. Straight up. Word. Speaking of such, I do not care for the phrase: “The book is too wordy.” It is a book. It consists of nothing but words. And I know what they mean, but before we fix the book, let’s fix their vocabulary. Too wordy? Gah! I digress…

Now that I have expressed my interest in books and have established the amount of time I have to read such wonders; I need to find them. This is where I stand at another ill-slated front. Do I buy, borrow, or steal? I want to start defining my book collection, but I do not want to forfeit appropriate currency to build it. I have found myself wavering on a borrow/buy concept. First I will borrow the book from el biblioteca (library). I like borrowing from the library; the books have character. They are soiled and worn. Just imagine all the fecal matter that has been disposed of in the presence of one book. That is a lot of shits. And with shits, comes innovation – ideas. Or maybe just shitty ideas. On that same topic, I often wonder which is dirtier, a pornographic magazine or a library book? That’s a good ‘ole mind tickler. Anyhow, I borrow the book, read it, and if I enjoy its contents I will splurge the three dollars at a thrift store or Amazon PRIME and purchase that book for my collection. I know, this concept leaves people dumbfounded. Why would I buy a book I have just read and have no intention of reading it again anytime soon? Good question. No equally good answer. Because my bookshelf is bare? Because I want to support the authors (who are mostly dead)? Because I want my collection of books to be a representation of myself? Science fiction and fantasy mixed in with a touch of non-fiction and historical accuracy. Not all in one book of course, but that’s not to say that it can’t be. Historically accurate fantasy. Do you believe in magic? Perhaps in a young girls heart…Or maybe I buy the book just because…I do what I want.