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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Azn Badger’s Guide To Foods That Will Wreck Your Shit-Hole

Haha, poop on head!

Yesterday I posted a 1,000+ word article on the subject of defecation and it’s place in American culture.

I’m proud to say it’s one of the better posts I’ve made in the past month or so.

That being said, today I’ve decided to follow up the success of that gloriously shit-stained post by putting together a list of foods that I’ve done battle with on the porcelain throne over the years.

Please bear in mind that this list is based entirely of my personal experience, as well as through knowledge imparted to me by others comfortable enough to do so.

That being said, the following will be quite detailed, and very likely; too graphic for some.

You have been warned.

Dried Mango:

 

Pictured: The best brand. Trust me, there are some truly shitty brands...

A personal favorite of mine (eating it right now in fact!).

I’ve built up a tolerance to it over the years, but newbies will be greeted with frequent and chunky shits containing undigested, and still quite yellow, fragments of mango.

Said effects only manifest when consumed in mass quantities.

Not painful to deal with, but the frequency of shits can be troublesome if you have an upcoming social occasion.

Best eaten/OD’ed on when your schedule is clear for the day.

Note: Philippine brand mango is recommended, as it easily the highest quality.  Stay away from Top Food’s bulk version though.

It’s orange.

Last time I checked, mango wasn’t orange

Dried Papaya:

Eww... Those don't look like any papaya I would buy...

Not as tasty as mango, but extremely easy to OD on due to the richness of the fruit.

Results in slight constipation, and slight headache if consumed in mass quantities.

Can occasionally cause one’s shit to become mucus-like in consistency.

Be mindful of over-indulging, as it can result in an itchy sensation in the rectum that makes it difficult to gauge the urgency of impending shits.

Seriously, it’s like your anus is pulling a rope-a-dope on your nervous system, tricking it into thinking it needs to drop a deuce when there’s simply no deuces to drop.

Extremely frustrating to contend with, as constipation is equally as likely to manifest as the never ending, itchy “good God, I need to shit like a camel needs to spit” sensation.

Recommended in small portions, or not at all; as dried mango is a billion times more tasty anyway…

Almond Butter:

Whaddaya' know, it looks the same goin' in as it does comin' out!

A tasty peanut butter alternative that goes down smooth, but puts on a helluva’ fight on the way out.

As mentioned above, it produces no noticeable symptoms upon initial consumption, however it grows fangs/balls sometime during the digestion process, resulting in sneakily urgent shits later in the day.

Said evacuation process is actually not so much painful, as it is uncomfortable and anti-climactic.

Uncomfortable in the sense that one’s shits produce an irritating itching sensation, not to mention are rendered disappointingly miniscule by man-standards.

(Yes, we have standards for that.)

Anti-climactic in the sense that one’s body goes ape-shit telling them they need to get to a toilet right now, so they can anally evict the rampaging shit-leopard from their bowels before it quite literally tears them a new asshole, only to find that the resulting ass-leavings were a shit-kitty at best.

Still, that itching sensation can be epicly frustrating…

Raisins:

"Well hello there raisin hottie, what'cha' got there? HOLY JEEBUS, DON'T YOU REALIZE WHAT THOSE'LL DO TO ME!?"

Don’t let the friendly mascot of the hot Mexican chick fool you, raisins claim the porcelain throne as their second home, carving their name into the asshole of any man foolish enough to challenge them on their turf.

Seriously man, raisins are tough customers.

Consumption results in severe gas and an unrelenting feeling of “oh my God, I need to take a shit so bad” so severe, that most men opt to spend the remainder of the day in the John, y’now, just in case.

Despite this, the process of sending raisins on the endless descent into the white bowl of doom is where the actual wrecking of one’s shit generally occurs.

Said shit is akin to experiencing the crippling “oh my God, why won’t my ass stop crying” symptoms of diarrhea, while undergoing the “holy shit, why won’t my anus come out and play?” symptoms of constipation.

Seriously, the resulting shit is a marathon of anal endurance; the likes of which few can endure.

It’s like a 12 round war of attrition, broken up by frequent, and unsettling bouts of clinching.

Or is that “clenching?”

Despite one’s best efforts, in this particular equation, one is simply doomed to ride out the literal shit-storm of anal flotsam and debris that will very likely adorn their bathroom walls over the next 15-360 minutes.

Make no mistake, war is hell; especially when fought on the crapper…

Cheese (Any of the Cow variety):

"Ah, the power of chees..."

I am Japanese.

History teaches us that, for a very long time, my people had no cows.

Make no mistake, when it comes to foods that wreck my shit, few things of this Earth can do so as quickly, efficiently, and as unfailingly as dairy products.

While eggnog is a close second, I honestly feel that cheeses have the greatest capacity to tear my rectum inside out and fold it over my head like a shitty hockey player on the receiving end of a particularly savage hockey beatdown.

Consumption of cheese results in noticeable symptoms right off the bat.

It all starts with the “cheese sweats.”

Y’know, that nasty feeling where you feel all greasy and short of breath every time you exert yourself even a little.

Once the “cheese sweats” have settled in, then the nasal congestion starts to rear it’s ugly head, making you look like an ass as you constantly snort and blow your nose in a lame attempt to keep from breathing through your mouth like a loser.

Seriously, nobody likes a mouth breather.

NOBODY.

Once all of that has settled in, things finally come to a head as the dreaded “cheese gas” starts acting up, causing your anus to cough up clouds of all sorts of Evil Cow God cursed gasses that no man (or woman) of this Earth are meant to (nor able to) contend with.

Make no mistake, when an Asian declares bathroom jihad on a product of the dairy clan; collateral damage is not only expected, it’s a certainty.

That being said, unless you’re comfortable with living out the rest of your days knowing that a handful of people’s faces were Ark of the Covenant-ed by the noxious “cheese gas” crop-dusting from your shit-hole on your long march to the porcelain theater of war, I would suggest removing one’s self from any public venues before consuming any cheeses.

Despite the immense possibilities for public humiliation, doing battle with cheese is much like taking on a bully.

He may put on a big bravado, humiliating you from time to time, and even going so far as getting physical with you every now and again; but once you get him into the ring and start trading with him, he folds like the lips of your anus in the off-season.

In short, the actual battle with cheese is rather brief, and actually ends up feeling like a relief after all the tortuous build-up.

Either that, or you get diarrhea.

Really BAD diarrhea…

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