|Analogy for the war in Iraq: Shit you didn't plan for|
Doesn't anyone find it weird that we all casually look at our own shit? You wipe, wipe, and eventually you've got to check your progress. Has your ass been sufficiently de-shitted? There's only one way to know, and that's to look at your own shit.
Now, some of you must be thinking, "Hell no! I don't look at my own shit, you sick freak!" But yes, yes you do. How else do you know when you're done wiping, huh? You have some kind of shit-sense the rest of us don't know about? And lets just say you don't look. Then you likely have hobo-ass by now. That's right, I said "hobo-ass." That means that your ass is equivalent to that of a hobo, who I'm sure also doesn't look either because it is well-known that their ass contains a thick layer of unwipeable perma-shit. I hope you shower, asshole, because if you take a bath, you'll be sitting in a pool of your own shit-juice. You're the sick freak. Fucker.
|You, after one of your shit-baths|
That's right, I think shit is beautiful. You might as well. You're going to look at it an average of once a day, you might as well find the beauty in it. The varying textures, the diverse shades of brown (and the occasional green) and the inevitable smell that escapes your airtight ass-on-toilet seal which must be broken in order to judge the wipe. Was is an average wipe? A surprisingly clean wipe? Did you wipe too much and now your anus is bleeding? These are important questions that are all answered by simply examining your used toilet paper. You don't want ass-blood on your hands, do you?
|Your ass if you don't judge your wipe!|