Azn Badger's Blog

What About the Lysine Contingency…?

December 14 2010: A Date Which Will Live In Rectal Infamy


Today my anus was sneak attacked as few anuses have been, uh, “snuck” attacked before it.

It all began 2 days ago at the dinner table…

My father, adventurous chef that he is; acquired a half dozen lamb shanks and broiled/stewed/cooked the shit out of them.

Lamb Shanks: The Silent Killer

Served awash in their own juices, as well as a healthy dousing of gravy, cranberries and mushrooms; the lamb was mouth-wateringly juicy and undeniably scrumptious.

It was a fine meal, fit for a king even.

… And then the lamb shanks made a second appearance on the dinner table the following evening.

Once again partaking of the greasy and oh so delicious lamb, I had no idea I was testing the limits of my stomach’s capacity to process hearty and/or artery clogging foods.

That evening I went to bed a boy with a full stomach.

Today I come before you, a man.

A man that can’t so much as bend over without feeling like he’s got a wad of tin foil lodged in his asshole.

Yeah, I wish I was kidding...

Honestly man, despite all the bathroom war stories I’ve shared on this blog, the one that I experienced earlier today was the worst I’ve ever experienced.

The worst part of it, as indicated by the title of this post; was the fact that I had no idea what was coming my way until it was already halfway out of me.

It began as many anal skirmishes do, with a persistent, but otherwise mild feeling of itchiness in my rectum.

Still at work at the time, I decided to ignore the warning shot across my asses’ bow in favor of keeping busy.

Throughout the day, the itchiness persisted, gradually pervading my consciousness and making it difficult to stay on task.

The problem was, I honestly didn’t feel like I needed to dump ass, my canal just felt itchy is all.

Anyway, as one might expect, after hours of itchiness in my cheek trench, I decided to set aside some time during my lunch break and attempt a little preemptive toilet bombing.

Y’know, just to see if there was in fact something stewing around in my guts that wanted out, but was just too shy to send out a warning fart to let me know.

Let me take a second to point something out to you:

We don’t sit down at the Amazon.com warehouse.

We get lunch and a few breaks, but outside of that; there’s almost no task in the warehouse that allows for one to sit down.

That being said, from the time I started getting my warning itch, to the time I actually decided to address it, I was never once squatting, bent over, or sitting down.

Had I done any one of those things, I probably wouldn’t have ignored those anal itches as foolishly as I did.

The moment I lifted my ass and bent my knees to plop down on the toilet, I felt my anus tear itself apart in a firestorm of rectal fury.

Pearl Harbor?

The Firebombing of Dresden?

The nuclear detonations at Hiroshima and Nagasaki?

Fucking child’s play compared to the furious inferno of hellfire rampaging through my asshole at ground zero.

As I sit here typing this, I still don’t know what the fuck happened.

It seriously felt like someone took an icepick, rammed it up my ass, and then “stirred” it around up there like they were making brownie mix or some shit.

I would take this any day over what I went through this afternoon...

Did I mention the icepick had been heated with a blowtorch?

Anyway, despite my eyes beginning to drip with tears from the pain an intensity of the battle ensuing down below; I nevertheless made the commitment to press forward and expel the foul beast of bile that had so viciously crippled my asshole.

While the sneak attack on my asshole was easily the most painful experience of today’s instance of bathroom warfare, the actual shit was pretty epic as well.

It’s not often I take long shits, but today’s sneaky turd was a good 6-8 incher.

While that may not be much by most standards, the real issue was the fact that, while he might not have been epicly long, he made me fight for every inch.

You ever seen a Moray Eel?

Note the abundance of the knives and stabbing weapons in his mouth...

Well, imagine pushing that out your anus, while it’s head’s inside you tearing away at your innards.

Needless to say, it was a hard fought battle that I feel fortunate to have survived.

Upon finally expelling the foul beast of brown from my bruised and bloodied hole of shame, I quickly flushed it away fearing it might in fact have been some sort of nasty creature out to get me from the inside out:

In case you’re a 5 year old, and think that Jason Lee was wrestling with his (presumably) monstrous cock in this clip; it’s actually a “shit-weasel” from Stephen King’s Dreamcatcher.

Quite faithfully rendered from the source material as well if I do say so myself.

Anyway, consider yourselves fortunate you weren’t me today folks.

Though I may be alive and mostly well, (my ass still hurts like a motherfucker…) something tells me I’ll be having flashbacks and night terrors over this one for some time…

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Do You Know Your Poop-Hole?

Written by a Japanese dude. No surprise there...

Everyone poops.

That’s not just the title of an awesome book, it’s also a stone cold fact.

A fact that too many of us seem to deny, or choose not to acknowledge.

I came to realize something a few years back:

Azn people talk about poop.

A lot.

A few years ago, I got into the habit of asking a specific question to all of my close friends.

Said question goes a little something like this:

“Hey, does your family like to talk about poop and bowel functions?”

What I discovered over the years, is that virtually all of my Asian friends, be they Thai, Cambodian, Japanese, Chinese, Korean, etc. answered me with a simple “yes,” while my friends of the decidedly paler variety, either dodged the question or replied with an emphatic “no.”

I can’t really put my finger on the details of why this is, but my best guess is that it’s a cultural difference.

While I can’t speak for any other Asian culture, being Japanese; I can say with a great deal of certainty, that we Japanese (always wanted to say that…) are a bowel obsessed people.

In America; the only talk of bowel functions, or urination, or poop that we get in mainstream media comes in the form of potty humor and TV commercials for pills that prevent old people from peeing themselves.

In general, American mainstream television seems to believe that irregular bowel functions are a problem only for the elderly and menopausal, as I’ve yet to see images of youthful people associated with the subject.

And no, Jamie Lee Curtis and her Activia ads does not count as a “youthful” spokesperson for healthy bowels in America.

If anything, it’d be more appropriate to file her under the menopausal demographic…

This is not the case in Japan.

You flip on just about any daytime television program in Japan, and I guarantee you you’ll find at least a half dozen programs for herbal bowel regulation supplements featuring interviews with young and nubile, bikini clad women openly discussing the epic shit they took the night before, or the epic shit they feel they need to take, but just can’t get out the gate due to their irregular bowel functions.

Don’t ask me why, but we Japanese talk about our poops.

All my life, I’ve gotten the feeling that my mom cares more about the health of my anus than me as a person.

Seriously, I can’t go a day without having her ask me:

“Did you get your ruffage?”

“Are you regular”

“Do you got the poops?”

Some kids go away to college for 4 years, and have their parent’s drop them a line every now and again to tell them how much they miss them, or to ask how their classes are going.

I went away for 4 years and my mom would call me every day to ask if I was backed up.

Being as I was eating at the school cafeteria most of the time, I did in fact have my fair share of bathroom war stories to report to my mother; but that’s besides the point.

The point is, in my family; the health and status of the various colons and anuses in the household have not only been fair game for discussion, they’ve played host to some of the more serious and genuinely interesting conversations we’ve had.

You may be laughing at this point, but I find that growing up being aware of, and free to discuss the state of my bowels has done me a lot of good.

Seriously, when I see some of shit that people eat, only to complain later in the day that their “stomach” is bothering them, (note: stomach is code for “anus” or “ass” among the sheepish) I can’t help but consider myself fortunate to know better than them.

Honestly folks, if you’re in good health, and know how your system reacts to whatever food you put into it; you’ll find that unwelcome “surprises” like the one mentioned above will almost never happen.

While I’m on the subject of food though, I figure I should mention why I decided to type this article today.

Today a friend of mine at work offered me some pecans as a snack.

I politely declined, citing my bowel’s inability to handle the delicious, but ass-crippling nut that is the pecan.

Actually, I think my exact words were:

“I like pecans man, but you realize they’ll wreck your shit, right?”

My comment was met with laughter, as it was indeed meant to be; but I think my buddy failed to realize that it also doubled as a genuine admonishment coming from a seasoned veteran of toilet seat warfare.

We’ll come back to that in a minute.

Anyway, sure enough, later in the day my buddy sat down next to me, his expression devoid of character, his complexion chalky and white as the Moon; and he said to me in the most humble of tones:

“So, those pecans tore through me pretty bad a minute ago…”

The kid got reeled in by the sweet taste and classy packaging of the pecans, only to end up getting his ass used as the ring for a 40-shit Royal Rumble.

Poor bastard probably blacked out putting himself in a Steiner Recliner just to get the last man over the top rope…

To that I responded with a baudy “I told you so,” however with just the slightest hint of understanding layered beneath it all.

You see, though I know my bowels like the back of my hand, I have this strange problem where many of my favorite foods/snacks just happen to be things that “upset” me.

I know this from experience, as well as from the fact that I’ve over-indulged in said food items at least once/twice/a billion times, to the point where the resulting toilet seat warfare has become routine to a fault.

It’s been a long time since I’ve waged all-out war with my anus, to the point where these days every skirmish is more akin to war games than anything else.

Trust me, I quite literally know my shit.

Tomorrow I’ll be following things up with a detailed list of tasty snacks that just happen to wreck your shit if you eat too much of them!

Excuse me while I step out to do little peacekeeping South of the border…

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