|
Visit the Commentary Archives!
Ask Bob a Question!
|
 Marty from Morgantown West Virginia:
bob..i need your help, my butt itches. now normaly if my butt
itches i just scratch it and wipe my fingers on the dog..and thats that, but lately my butt itches all the time,
even after i scratch it, and scratch it, and scratch it, ive tried softer toilet paper, ive tried preperation h,
i even tried washing my butt more often, but nothing helps cmon bob your my last hope.
Marty:
Even if your butt does not itch, please get into the habit of washing your butt area often. I'm not obsessive about
cleanliness, but I know you can let your armpits go two or three days. But you gotta wash that ass. EVERYDAY!!!
Now, before we can help you with your problem, we must understand what causes the problem.
As it turns out, dinosaur bones have been found with pebbles lodged in their anus area. It's been determined that
they ate the rocks so that they would
get stuck in their bowels; and as a result, relieve the dreaded cronic butt-itch.
Upon close examination, it was found that these pebbles had remnants of microorganisms that are still responsible
for the cronic butt-itch, today. The reason that the tiny organisms make the butt itch is simple to explain - they are not from this planet.
Millions of years ago, an asteroid fell to earth. When it hit, it cracked in half and millions and millions of
tiny space-spiders came crawling out. Those microorganisms lived in the bowels of these alien space-spiders. When
the spiders died, they went into the ground and ended up on plants.
When we eat the plants we get infected. Once infected the tiny space-organisms realize that they are in the bowels
of someone from another planet. They get all-excited and dance a little jig. These micro-disco dance parties is
what causes the bastardly-butt itch.
Under normal circumstances, the asteroid would have never bumped into our planet; however, a few years ago, Stephen
Johnson snuck into a time portal, just before it was finished, so that he could go back in time and smoke the cigarette
that he just smoked. Thereby, saving money.
 Because the time portal was not complete, he ended up millions of years in the past where
he noticed a space ship that was visiting the Earth. He entered the space craft to get a light for his cigarette.
Being the numb-skull that he is, he headed right toward the control panel and started switching buttons and pulling
levers like a madman.
The ship took off into space and ended up running into an asteroid which got knocked into a path right toward the
Earth. After that, the spiders crawled out and the rest is butt-scratching history.
In short, the horrible, cronic bulbous butt-itch is the direct result of Stephen being a stupid-bastard.
Now for the cure.
There are two ways to cure this. First you can put small objects in your rectal area. Marbles or thumb tacks seem
to work pretty well. The foreign objects get in the way of the dancing and soon the micro-disco dance party is
over. Sort of like when the neighbor calls the cops on your ass because your web site partner is puking on your
neighbor's car.
Years ago, I used small thumbtacks to cure my own cronic butt-itch. However, when I went to the bathroom to relieve
myself "#2", my screams were so loud that employees would go running out of the bathroom...often screaming
themselves.
The other method is to take large volumes of laxatives. This causes you to literally, "...rain on their parade."
Once again, the microorganisms leave.
To avoid the horrible screaming at work, recently I tried the laxative method. I ended up going to the bathroom
so much that by butt went from itching to severe burning.
SEVERE BURNING!!!
I decided to borrow some lotion from a fellow employee. Boy, did she give me a funny look when I took it and ran
to the bathroom! But I didn't care, I was in pain.
Soon I was sighing in relief as I was bent over, with my pants down, applying the lotion by the handful to my exit
area. That's when Chuck came walking in. He's a new employee who's on a work release program from the state prison.
Looking over my shoulder, I noticed a great big grin form on his face. The rest of the story is too painful for
me to talk about, but next time I might go back to using thumbtacks.
And now you know.
Coming up: Flo tells me
to, "eat my shorts!" |
