Shit Stories Part XV: Ass Sweat

Generally speaking, ass sweat isn’t that bad. As far as I’m aware, it doesn’t actually smell so I consider it “clean sweat”. For the record, I’ve never actually tried to smell ass sweat up close so I don’t actually know that it doesn’t stink, but I know that it doesn’t stink from a safe distance. At worst, ass sweat is just a bit embarrassing when I sit down after a long day of sports and the sweat pools on the seat and an ass imprint of sweat is revealed when I stand up.


Well… that was the worst ass sweat can do outside of a shit story. The realm of shit stories is a whole other world. We all know that shit is disgusting and we all try to pretend like we’ve never touched shit before. But let’s be honest here, most of us have probably touched shit before, hopefully by accident. If you haven’t touched shit, you haven’t lived life. For me, it happens when I take an untamed shit and it seems to have splattered around my asshole quite a bit and I accidentally smear some on my hand when I wipe. It’s nasty, but it’s not a big deal because I get to clean it off right away. This happens often enough that whenever I wipe my ass and feel my hand-skin touching something wet, I expect to see shit on my hand when I un-reach it from my ass. Just prior to writing this, I was taking a shit, felt something wet as I wiped, and feared the worst. Turns out it was just ass sweat so don’t worry about any shit particle transferring from my hand to my keyboard, through the internet, and into your eyes.

That’s it for the shit story. My plan to start a podcast is still on track so keep an eye and ear out for that. Hopefully I’ll have something up in a week but I’ll definitely have something up in two weeks by the latest.

Shit Stories Part XIV: My First Shit Story

This might be the last shit story I write and it’s going to be about the first shit story I’ve ever told. I was in university with a bunch of people who were kind of my friends. We were friendly with each other and hung out mostly out of convenience. They would invite me out and I tried my best to go out with them to enjoy their company, and it was okay, but it wasn’t enough for me to pursue the friendship. Evidently, I wasn’t a great additional to their group either since they eventually stopped asking me out. I don’t think it was because I scared them away with my shit story. If I did scare them away, it would be from trying to sell them sanitary napkins, including the guys. It was that phase of my life. I wasn’t being a pushy or anything though. People just got uncomfortable when certain words are brought up regardless of context.

The girls were as equally awkward as the guys when I talked about pads.

The girls were as equally awkward as the guys when I talked about pads.

I don’t remember why I was telling this shit story. Maybe it was because someone was complimenting my awesome huge pectoral muscles back then and instead of saying “thanks”, I reward them with a shit story. That’ll make a little more sense once you hear this shit story but it still doesn’t justify why I would talk about shit instead of saying “thanks”.



I started off by saying I wasn’t sure if this story was too personal (for them. It’s not personal at all for the blog.). In my bathroom, there’s a mirror right next to the toilet. Sometimes, when I plan to shower after taking a shit, I would take off all my clothes before taking the shit because I was going to take them off for the shower anyway. In the nude, I would look at the mirror and see some belly fat and I hated it. It was this constant reminder that helped motivate me to work hard at sculpting an awesomer body.

But my body could never get as good as that because I don't have boobs.

But my body could never get as good as that because I don’t have boobs.

I ended the story the same way I started, by saying I wasn’t sure if it was too personal or weird and this one guy was overreacting and said, “Yes. Of course that was too personal.” Even though I basically got negative feedback, I liked that I was able to hold people’s attention by talking about unconventional things and evoke emotion in them. That wasn’t the moment I realized I wanted to write a blog about shit stories or anything, but it was definitely a moment early on that showed me this is the path I will be taking. It reminds me a lot of this clip of Louis CK honoring George Carlin. The whole video is worth watching but I linked you straight to the part where Louis talks about a joke that got a wild negative-ish reaction from the crowd but he would rather have that than shitty laughs.

I would rather a girl look at me in disappointment, disgust, or confusion than to not have a girl look at me at all.

I would rather a girl look at me in disappointment, disgust, or confusion than to not have a girl look at me at all.

Shit Stories Part XIII: The Return of Black Diarrhea

I haven’t written a shit story for a while. Since I can only take so many shits a day, I have to reach the bottom of the shit barrel to find shit to write about. At long last, I present to you, a new shit story. Please excuse me if it’s more gross than funny but the sexy girls with captions should hopefully compensate for what my shits lack in humor.

B-but I don't want to be the face of a shit story...

B-but I don’t want to be the face of a shit story…

So I just had diarrhea, a blackish one I guess. If I didn’t have black diarrhea in my mind from writing the blog, I might not have called this one black. So anyway, I excreted it and flushed the toilet, just a normal black diarrhea routine.

Routine... as if it happens regularly like a shower... But what do I know about routines. I can't even remember to remove my underwear.

Routine… as if it happens regularly like a shower… But what do I know about routines. I can’t even remember to remove my underwear.

A few minutes passed and my brother entered the bathroom. I heard him yell “GROSS!”. I can only surmise that some of the black diarrhea had come back from the pipes. I should be ashamed, but instead, I laughed. I’m more ashamed for laughing than the shit itself.

Try smirking instead. You'll feel less shame.

Try smirking instead. You’ll feel less shame.

We don’t learn life lessons everyday so I should be thankful for learning one today. From now on, I shall always check to see if my shit flushes, especially if it’s (black) diarrhea. I hope you readers can learn from my shitty mistakes too.

What an education read! Next time I won't have to come to this colorful field to hide my diarrhea.

What an education read! Next time I won’t have to come to this colorful field to hide my diarrhea.

Shit Stories Part XII

There are some words that just sound funny together, like anal leakage. Unfortunately, I don’t actually have a story about that. The closest thing I can think of is still just hypothetical. In Shit Stories Part V, I mentioned that I had wiped some blood from my asshole. I haven’t wiped any more blood since, but if I did, then I would’ve needed to consider using tampons.

I'm high as a kite and have no idea wtf I just read.

I’m high as a kite and have no idea wtf I just read.

The only productive thing I’ve been doing all week is writing these shit stories and this isn’t even productive at all. It’s sad that I actually fantasized about getting laid from these shit stories. There’s 0% chance of that happening and it’s still the closest I’ve ever been to getting laid.

Ted knows as little about sex as we do about basketball.

Ted knows as little about sex as we do about basketball.

There wasn’t really much of a shit story this time. I just wanted to use some more of these pictures since I spent so much time downloading them. Anyway, it’s past midnight and my whole family’s asleep so I shall proceed to use this freedom to entertain myself, feel shitty for several minutes, then entertain myself again.

That's how Ted's going to look when he's waiting his several minutes.

That’s how Ted’s going to look when he’s waiting his several minutes.

Shit Stories Part XI: Anal Pleasures

Congratulations. My asshole hair got 10 likes so I will now be adding pictures of pretty girls to all my shit stories. I have also gone back and retroactively added them to all previous shit stories. I spent a lot of time on these so you should revisit them and appreciate all my hard work. Let me help you. And don’t forget the older ones too.

Like a good book, I can read these shit stories again and again.

Like a good book, I can read these shit stories again and again.

Okay, anal pleasures. The more homophobic readers might think this is gay; but it’s not. There are sensitive nerve endings in our assholes that give us pleasure when stimulated. That is a fact. That is why taking a good healthy shit feels wonderful. It’s the way our bodies have evolved to encourage us to get rid of waste instead of keeping it in the body. The thicker and longer the shit, the better it feels. Read: Phallic objects feel good in our asses. That said, it’s only gay when you put an actual dick in there.



I haven’t fingered my ass yet so this isn’t a post-justification; it’s a pre-justification. I’m still waiting to get 100 likes here. Once I get 100 likes, I will do it as promised. I need these arbitrary rules in my life. Even though I still can’t blame anyone but myself if things go wrong, at least I know there will be people who gets a laugh out of it. With all my recent anal talk and my discussion with MrJohnson about fleshlights in the comment section here, I’m turning into quite a sex-freak and shit-monger. Living with my parents, I don’t have many places I can hide a fleshlight but I just thought of a brilliant place for it. Now I just need someone to send me a fleshlight so I can make some delightful pictures for the internet to see. Sponsors are welcomed. Come on, sex toy shops, are you reading this?

C'mon sponsors. Please?

C’mon sponsors. Please?

As a tech savvy person, I always joked that it would be funny if I ran a porn site because of what I have to say at family gatherings when people ask me what I do. Now it will be even funnier if I get sponsored to play with and blog about sex toys.

Your family will forever avoid eye contact like I'm doing right now.

Your family will forever avoid eye contact like I’m doing right now.

Shit Stories Part X: Where Exactly Is My Asshole?

That is a question I ask myself every time I wipe my ass. I want to know this so that I can clean my asshole more effectively. I know where the crack is, that’s obvious, and I know the 5 inch diameter from which I wipe shit. However, I do not know the exact location of my asshole. I could find out by poking around until my finger goes into me but I don’t really want to do that. But if I don’t want to stick my finger in my ass, how would pinpointing the location of my asshole help me clean it better?

You got it down to 5 inches? Lucky.

You got it down to 5 inches? Lucky.

I haven’t poked around my ass too much but if I were to do it, I think I would need to poke upwards, at around 45 degrees. I think that’s the direction that leads inside me. I would be poking upwards as opposed to poking horizontally because that would just be poking where my vagina would be if I were a girl. It’s weird to analyze and write about (and read about) the finer details of an asshole.

45 degrees. Like this.

45 degrees. Like this.

A lot of guys wouldn’t want anything to poke around their assholes because they fear that it might feel gay to have something go up their ass. I’m actually not afraid of the gay part. In fact, writing this blog is actually giving me an urge to try it out. The main thing that’s stopping me is sanitation (or sanity). I don’t want to use my finger because I don’t want to get shit on it. I don’t know how much shit is in a passive asshole and I’m not about to find out with my own naked finger. I don’t want to use disposable gloves because I’m THAT cheap, even though it’s only a couple cents. And I don’t want to use any of my household tools because it would get tainted for life.

Do you want to borrow the vines from my house?

Do you want to borrow the vines from my house?

…Umm… the more I’m writing about this, the more I’m actually curious about fingering my own ass. I shall give strangers on the internet power over my life. If this entry gets more than 100 likes, I will finger my own ass. If it turns out to be a terrible experience, I will have hilarious new material to write about. Even if I don’t get 100 likes, I would probably do it if I read a very convincing testimony. If it turns out that I like it and I don’t have anything funny to say, well, you will have made my shitty life a little better… and gayer. It’s a win-win.

You should try two fingers.

You should try two fingers.

Retracting My Dick (Attitude) From A Girl

Once again, I’m trying too hard to make a lame pun and it doesn’t even work. And once again, I’m leaving it in even though I know it doesn’t work. I wonder why I embarrass myself with these.  Anyway, I just want to make a public notice that I modified one of my earlier entries: I was being a dick towards this girl based on false presumptions. Since she proved me wrong, I’m retracting the dickish things I said about and replace it with better ones. Go and take a look at how I’ve un-dicked myself.

According to my research, you have indeed undicked yourself.

According to my research, you have indeed undicked yourself.