... Now, while my third theory is the most ridiculous and improbable, it is, of course, the one that freaks me out the most. What if I have some sort of killer anus disease. It could happen. Farrah Fawcett Majors had anus cancer and I’m sure her asshole was WAY cleaner than mine could ever dream of being. That would seriously suck. The high point of my pitiful day is my 9:37 AM daily dumpage. And the late afternoon dumpage. And the occasional late-night dumpage. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I had to have my asshole removed. And I can’t imagine that filling up one of those colostomy bags could ever be as satisfying as pinching one’s loaf the old-fashioned way. Frankly, having one of those bags has always been my worst fucking nightmare. Although… it would pretty much cut the bathroom trips out of my schedule -- that’s a good couple of hours I’d get back per day. The things I could do with two extra hours a day. Maybe I won’t write off anus-disease quite yet...
Up Next: What's Up (There), Doc?
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