When I first started telling the tale of my butt and it’s new nut, I thought it was about as bad as it could get and this story could not get any more ridiculous/inappropriate for the internet. To say I was wrong is a gross understatement. And we’re about to get way more gross.
We last left off with my new prescription for Rectal Rockets. Many of you requested a real life size comparison. Here you go. Stare in horror. I welcome it.
The night was here. Rocket night. To review, I am to insert rocket so the flared end hangs out my butt hole. Point of that is so the flaredness attacks the butt nut on the outside with direct rocket contact. I was ready for war. I used my anesthetic and like awful cruel holding your breath kind of painful traumatic magic, it was in. Whew….it’s over. Now I can rest.
ok breathe breathe, use your hypnobabies. Turn your lightswitch off. This is fine and normal and natural.
NO this is NOT natural. Nothing about this is normal at all. There is a rocket is my ass. What is going on??? (You should know that B has opted out of the bedroom and is slumbering sans rocket activity in the guest room).
I decide I can’t take it. I have to take the rocket out. This pain isn’t worth it. I take teenytinyteeny steps to the bathroom, go to fetch my weapon and…wait. …wait WHAT? Where the F IS MY ROCKET?
OH MY GOD I LOST MY ROCKET IN MY BUTT.
Serious panic sets in. It has a FLARED end so this does not happen. HOW did this happen? Can I dig it out? Nope. Did it fall on the floor? Nope. Wait, what’s that? In my underwear is the broken off flared end of the rocket, now creating a straight up missile that just shot up my butt into my instestines and will probably live there forever.
You should know now that the pharmacist did not include normal medicine warnings, allergies, instructions, ANYTHING NORMAL etc. Which at this point, I’m pissed about. I’m panicking. I don’t know anything about butt tools. Does it dissolve? Do I need to go to the hospital? And let me tell you this is the first piece of information that google in fact does not help you with. That is unless you’re looking for sex toys or hot sauce. I find like a FEW random comments on blogs that people left discussing rectal rockets. I email them ALL at midnight. I’m sure this didn’t seem crazy at all. No one responds.
Ok, I need to just deal with this and go to sleep. I’m sure it dissolves. That’s what wikipedia said the definition of “suppository” was. Meanwhile I’m still dealing with the intense burning pain that I had when I decided to get this the F out of me. Now I am forced to sleep with it in.
Wake up. PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN. DIARRHEA. MORE PAIN. CRYING. TEARS.
Me: (sobbing) B, B it’s lost in me. I’m going to die I can’t walk. sobbbb
B: What? it’s lost in you?
Me: yessss and it huurrrts!
B: Ok I’m calling the pharmacist
Me: I DON’T TRUST HIM THEY GAVE ME NO INSTRUCTIONS HE IS A MAD SCIENTIST. CALL THE MAN WHO INVENTED IT.
And so B did while I actually went to work. B calls Lousiana to speak with the inventor of the Rectal Rocket. I wish he would have asked him if he’s hilarious and has a blog, because you have to be to name a real life medicine RECTAL ROCKETS.
Anyway, get this. B finds out from Dr. Rocket that our local rocket scientist put an UNNECESSARY IRRITANT LAXATIVE in the rocket. And yes it is supposed to dissolve. What the mother f-er?! The pain didn’t go away for 2 days and I thought my butt nut was digging an acid hole to my heart.
My butt has since recovered and we can now conclude this chapter of the butt story. The butt nut is still there but I will no longer be riding the rocket. If anything good has come of this, it’s the peace I made with the butt nut. Because it’s nothing compared to the pharmacist and his mad scientist lab.
Thank you for being a part of my butt story. I hope we’ve all learned something here today: Don’t be an asshole in life or life will seriously F up your asshole.