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Freinds DO NOT shave you ass hair!


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It all started, as many things do, with me having trouble ****ting.

No, I was not constipated; this was not a regularity problem but a matter of

technique. It seems my ass-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were

constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my ass cheeks. It led to

much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but unable to

shake the tenacious turd loose from its butt hair dwelling. Eventually I would have

to do two things: Either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the

lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all

over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go

for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter

before the toilet paper reached its Can't-Be-Flushed threshold.

I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed at the time to be a bright

idea. "Hey, this is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don't I just eliminate

all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out like beer from a keg!" I said to

myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted

statements: "How many Indians could there be?" said by General Custer. "Looks like a

good day for a drive!" by JFK. "There! America On-line now has complete Usenet

access!" by some idiot system tech... such was my anal shaving idea.

I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to

sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began

the arduous process of ridding my ass of hair. Occasionally, I would have to clean

the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which I did by wiping it on

the towel. Slowly, my twin cheeks and the between-ravine began to resemble the

hairless mounds of a newborn babe.

Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was

covered with a pile of hair. My ass was smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied,

thinking my troubles were over. Little did I know. I now have a great respect for

anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in

existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had

been taking it for granted.

For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into

the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to

sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my

crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two ass cheeks sliding past

each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off,

but had to get to class.

Eventually, I thought, it would dry. Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after

mingling with the microscopic ****-molecules lingering around my brown starfish.

When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky

****/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch.

God-****, did it itch! Felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my


Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back

to the dorm. Unfortunately, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally

reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a

pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my ass

off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks.

As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled

the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all,

as the ripe aroma of festering ****/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my

face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my ass

cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with

the tangy smell of my own **** blowing right into my face, I had only one thought:

It will be like this until the hair grows back.

Weeks Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping my ass at every opportunity,

I discovered another wonderful use for ass-hair: Ventilation. I attempted to launch

a fart, only to have it get stuck between my ass cheeks. Apparently, with no hair,

the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating

fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil.

As if that wasn't enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever

shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble.

Imagine your ass having the texture of a brillo pad. Well, that is what I am dealing

with now. It is a hellish torture, and there are many times when I just look out the

window and contemplate why I shouldn't just jump out and get it all over with in one

fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.

Friends... don't shave your ass-hair!

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