Bears Don’t Do This In The Woods

My wife had brought home something unusual from the grocery store. I stared at it winsomely, as I cradled it in my hands. But I was not prepared for the glorious joy I was about to experience.

Ooooooh……..

Ahhhhhhhhh …….

Mmmmmmmm…..

Ya Ya Yakka Moo Moo!

Oh baby, that feels oh so gooooooooooooooooood!

Who knew 3-ply toilet paper felt this wonderful?

They can’t really tell you in the television ads how good this stuff is because it would be oh so awkward. It is amusing how they try to use cartoon bears to sell toilet paper. Because bears do crap in the woods and the only thing there to wipe with is leaves and that proves to be  very uncomfortable to the human tush. However, according to my very extensive Internet research, bears don’t even wipe afterward. This means that whole advertisement is a fraud since these allegedly picky bears wouldn’t even use toilet paper if they had access to

Fake News!

it. This is a prime example of FAKE NEWS. So, does a bear crap in the woods? Yes. Does he wipe his butt afterward? No.  I certainly hope that settles the issue.

But, oh baby, baby! Does this 3-ply stuff rock! I don’t even know what to call this experience. Wipevana?  Paperpalooza? Tushtastic?  Yes, this puffy paper delivers, oh more appropriately, gets rid of, the goods. The brand names include words like: Velvety, Quilted (grandma made my toilet paper!), Bliss, Plush and my favorite name, Cashmere. Perhaps that last one is like wiping your butt with your sweater – but maybe don’t try that one at home.

Besides the comfort to your backside, 3-ply paper also improves your health. After I experienced this blissfulness for the first time, I ate lots of fiber the rest of the day to ensure I could repeat the process as soon as possible.

However, this sensation was so gratifying that I started to feel guilty. I mean the Puritans would have never used this. And let’s face it, well maybe not face it, the product is inherently and atrociously wasteful. You are using 3 plies, when 2 plies are sufficient. That’s 50% more paper, 50%! I’ve been wiping with 2-ply my entire life with no complaints. But now I am using an extra sheet to do the job. Therefore using 3-ply is enormously environmentally irresponsible! You are not going green, if you wipe with 3-ply after going brown – even if you happened to actually go green.

Velvety goodness 

And then what about the poor people stuck with using cheap 1-ply, rough paper? Some of it probably contains chunks of wood, it’s so coarse. How can I cavalierly stick 3-ply up my butt without feeling any remorse?  And what about people in the third-world countries? Do I not care? Am I an elitist? Is using this product a result of literally white-fluffy privilege?

So yes, I was feeling soooo guilty about using the 3-ply toilet tissue. Until of course, nature called and ....

Yabba dabba do do!

Hacha hacha mama!

Whoopity whippity weeeee!

Ahhhhhh, the thrill of it!

However, this guilt was overwhelming and when I feel this remorseful about my behavior, there is only one responsible course of action. --- I must go to any degree, I must construct any argument, I must twist logic like a pretzel, to completely justify my actions. 

I give money every month to a poor African kid. Surely, they use some of that money to buy toilet paper. So I have earned the right to use 3-ply, correct? Maybe. But my best justification for going to the 3-ply is that my anus is in training. Yes, it’s almost time for a colonoscopy, so I need to get my anus ready for the big day. I need my anus in top condition and ready to perform at the highest level.

Now if you’re now expecting the same lame jokes about the colonoscopy prep and procedure that have been done thousands of times by hundreds of comics, then you are reading the wrong blog. There is absolutely nothing funny about you paying to get a probe shoved up your a$$.

You know there is something weird about to happen when everyone is overly interested and excited about looking up your butthole. All these people are way too happy and cheerful. Whenever this happens, you know something bad is about to happen to you.

Your doctor: “Well Don, it looks like your due for a colonoscopy!” (Big Smile)

The clinic scheduler (on the phone): “Fantastic! We have you all scheduled for Tuesday morning, the 14^th!” (and you know she is smiling)

The clinic receptionist: “Welcome, Mr. Ake! We’re all ready for you!" (Huge smile)

The clinic doctor: “There’s nothing to worry about, har, har! We use lots of lube here!” (Big, goofy smile)

This is one procedure where I don’t even care if the nurse is hot. I just want her to be gentle and to have not broken up with her boyfriend last night (Men! I would just like to take that TV controller and shove it right up his ...) And even though the nurse and I are going to share an intimate experience, I don’t expect her to call me in the morning to see how I’m doing. It’s best that when I leave the clinic that we both pretend this never happened and go on with our lives.

I do think that if everyone is going to pretend to be so giddy about looking up your anus, that just like a baseball player coming to bat, you should be able to choose a walk-up song. As they wheel me into the exam room, my “roll-up” song would be “I’m Sexy and I Know It” and I would be rapidly pistol pointing at the nurses, the receptionist and anyone else in my path.

Doc, look in my body

Doc, look in my body

Doc, look in my body

I wipe clean

I know normal people have many fears about the procedure, but I am not “normal people”. My biggest fear is that my colonoscopy video would be “leaked” and posted on the Internet. The video would go viral and would lead to a reality television show starring my anus. The pilot would get picked up by truTV and millions of viewers would tune in every week for The Don’s Anus Show. The show would end up being much more popular than my book and I would be relegated to answering questions from the press such as: “What’s it like having a famous anus?”  

  

“This week on the Don’s Anus Show: Don gets the Nitro Burrito at Chipotle – Spoiler Alert! This is not going to end well.”

Even with this risk, it is important to get the colonoscopy because it saved my friend Mark’s life. But just like everything else, preparation is important. I must make sure my hemorrhoids are cool, calm and literally collected, before they are brutally traumatized in a most irritating manner. And the best way to do this is to pamper them with the softest, lushest, 3-ply toilet tissue I can find.

Yes, I am now a 3-ply guy, and I am not ashamed. 

You Will Not Be Offended By My 100th Post

This post marks the 100^th edition of Ake’s Pains (if we don’t count the three “serious” posts). The blog debuted in May 2011 and I can’t believe the number of readers it has and the number of hits it has received. So I would like to sincerely thank all my readers who enjoy this blog.

However, everyone is not a fan of the blog.  Recently I received a long message from a young woman named Frances who had seen the blog on a social networking site where I repost it.  She found the blog very boring and somewhat (gasp) offensive and couldn’t understand why people would have any interest in my personal, mundane, story.

The problem is many women under 30 years of age don’t get my jokes.  It’s not that they are stupid.  Humor is subjective and they don’t understand it and that’s okay, not everyone gets or enjoys my stuff.  I’m not surprised Frances was bored by my blog; however there are four very disturbing things about her message:

1.   Even though she was bored and offended, she read the entire lengthy post.  With the thousands of articles available on the Internet each day, who has time to read the bad ones?  Then she writes me a long message to tell me why she was bored. Either she has too much free time or too little life.

2.   This particular post was not offensive.  You would have to try to be offended by it, which evidently she was successful in doing. Because she did not get the jokes, she thought I was stating serious opinions.

3.   She thought I should not repost any more blogs.  Apparently she also has time to police the Internet.  My brilliant solution was to suggest that she not read any more of my posts but allow other people to enjoy them.

4.   She goes by the name “Frances”, nuff said.

However I do care about Frances and the young women like her who wish to read blog posts by middle-aged studs like myself without being offended and made sad.  So I am dedicating this 100^th post to Frances by offering the least offensive story that I can possible write.

Don’s Swell Day

I awoke in the morning after getting the recommended seven hours of sleep.  Sleeping less would be unhealthy and sleeping more would be slothful.  I then showered and ate breakfast.

Before starting the workday, I spent time in my executive bathroom.  It was a productive session because I had been careful to ingest the recommended daily amount of fiber the day before. I followed Sheryl Crowe’s suggestion and used only one sheet of toilet paper.  I didn’t feel very fresh, but we all have to do our part to save the planet.

I then started my workday.  I do work at a “for profit” company, but I made sure that my actions did not produce too much profit because that would be greedy and might lead to creating more poor people.

At lunchtime I had a sammich.  I made my own sammich and at no time did any females participate in the making of this sammich.  The sammich consisted of tofu and sprouts on gluten free bread.  I know eating tofu could increase the size of my man-boobs, but we must all sacrifice to save the planet. Plus, this helps me reach my daily fiber goal.

After lunch, I decided to take a power walk to fulfill my daily physical fitness goal.  It was a very hot day so I expected to burn a lot of calories. As I started down the street I saw my neighbor, Hot Carla, washing her car in her string bikini. I thought about engaging her in some friendly, neighborly, small talk.  Perhaps I should stay and offer to hose her down if she gets overheated. But no, she was busy scrubbing that car vigorously, so a friendly wave will have to do. I resume the walk, but for some reason have problems taking a full stride.

When I get to the top of the hill, I notice Mr. Hairy Spider on the edge of the road.  I don’t want him to get squished, so I gently pick him up and carry over to a safe place.  Ahhh, Mr. Spider really likes me.  He has such a tight grip on my finger it’s difficult for me to set him free. Have a good day Hairy!

On my way back I notice Hot Carla has really worked up a sweat! That bikini is soaked! It’s wax time and she is buffing the heck out of that car, but my attention is diverted to the other side of the street where Mister Squirrel is

frolicking and storing food for the winter. Bury those nuts Mr. Squirrel, bury those nuts!

I return home and complete my work day.  I work hard, but not too hard, lest I become rich and evil.  I feel a little guilty about making too much money, so at the end of the day I write some checks to some caring charities in order to save the planet.

I have diner consisting of organic, free range, vegetables and a big heaping helping of quinoa.  I then relax by watching PBS because it has programs unavailable on the other 3,000 channels.  Tonight’s program is “Mating Habits

Squids making more squids

of the Squid”.  It is interesting, but I do cover my eyes during the “good” parts.  I distract myself by thinking about how shiny Hot Carla’s car must be after all her scrubbing and buffing.

At bedtime, my hand is really swollen, my bum is on fire and my loins are all tingly, but all in all, it has been a swell day!