So I stuck my finger in my belly button 2 nights back – not intentionally.
The aroma that filled the air above my finger soon after, was that of putrid origin – like those dudes with plugs in their ears(have any of you ever smelled that shit? Fuck a corpse, its rotten)
So anyways, as disgusting as this may sound, I have never in my lifetime cultivated such knowledge of the above(finger + bellybutton – not shagging a corpse), nor inquired about such act, nor even been politely requested(by either parent) to fulfill this, now compulsive, chore of cleaning up my most neglected of bodily cavities.
Whats even more fucked up, is that… I feel rather unpleasant if I happen to mismanage the recalling of this new compelling cleanse-thee-hollow-belly-hole memory – which seems to be motivated by nostalgia (“Don’t forget to wash behind the ears“). Pfft… yah right mother dearest, as if!
I’d much rather be playing Lego in the artificial oceanic bath tub, or manufacturing bubble snow cones from the front deck of my goddamn ship.
What else have I clearly forgotten *slash* not been told to do? I know cleansing between the toes is quite a hassle, so I usually tend to avoid – as important time like that, could much rather be spent focusing on my wang(especially today, cos I’ll soon be off to my close-to-front row seat for Eddie Izzard’s act). Woop.
One never knows when they might be in for a blowjob. Preparation is one of life’s most underestimated forms of misunderstanding.
Bare in mind, this isn’t good advice… I’m just talking smack to waste time and fill up blog space.
Must run.