Have you ever played a lot of tennis or badminton or anything else that exhausts your forearms? It’s always amazing how simple actions become harder with tired forearms. I once discovered that after playing hours of badminton, sticking up my middle finger became impossible. Who would’ve thought? And amongst these difficult tasks is wiping your ass. If you keep up with my blog or know me in real life, you would know that I’ve spent the past few months being unemployed and worthless. I do nothing with life and don’t even exercise. But one day, all of a sudden, wiping my ass was as difficult as if I had exercised. I coined a term with my friends where I label my (lack of) actions as next level laziness. I hope that my next level laziness doesn’t make me stop wiping. That would be beyond next level laziness. And even beyond that would be not even bothering to shit in a toilet. Hopefully, I can maintain two levels away from voluntarily shitting my pants.
I have a few theories on why I might have had a difficult time wiping my ass:
Maybe I’ve been eating and shitting so much that the repetition of having to wipe has become an exercise.
Maybe I jerked off too much. This theory applies because jerking off exercises foremans; not to be mistaken that there’s any relationship between my masturbating and my asshole.
Maybe my body just decided to disintegrate and I’m reaching a point in life where I can’t even wipe my own ass or jerk myself off.
I try to have more than one story for each of my blog entries and keeping right on track, I have a second shit story. That’s right, I didn’t write that last story for a few days because I was saving up for a second story, not because I’m a lazy shithead who doesn’t work and can’t even keep up a blog. I’m wrapping up the second story right now and it turns out that both these stories are lengthy enough to be their own entries so I’ll publish them separately. If you love these shit stories, buckle down because the next story will be coming up in a few minutes if it isn’t out already.