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Charlie Hatton
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Howdy, friendly reading person!
I'm on a bit of a hiatus right now, but only to work on other projects -- one incredibly exciting example being the newly-released kids' science book series Things That Make You Go Yuck!
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Not the ‘Warm Fuzzies’ I Had in Mind

Okay, I have a question.

Not an important question, true — but a serious question, nonetheless. It involves my showers, somewhat indirectly. And my ass — much less indirectly, as it happens.

(Yeah, yeah, go ahead — run away screaming. That’s fine — get it out of your system. I’ll be here when you get back, and you’ll still have to read what comes next. ‘Cause I know you’ll come back. They always come back.)

Okay, here’s the thing. Sometimes in the shower, as I’m washing, I notice these little blue fuzzy things on my washcloth. I’m pretty sure they come from my jeans, somehow. And I’m fairly certain that they show up after I’ve wiped down my backside. I don’t know exactly where back there they come from, mind you — maybe on the periphery, or maybe right on the edge of Old Brown Canyon; I couldn’t say for sure, without a more flexible neck and a series of mirrors.

(Or a shower buddy. A very understanding — or a very drunk shower buddy. And really, if I had one of those, would I really still care what sort of fuzz happens to be on my ass? I’m gonna say, ‘no’.)

Anyway, here’s what I don’t get: assuming that I’m right on both counts — the fuzz starts out on my jeans, and ends up on my ass — then how, for the love of Levi Strauss, does it get there?

Because there is zero contact between the two, as far as I know. I’m not running around commando-style, sans undies, with my jeans and ass spending the day rubbing up against each other like a couple of dry-humping teenie boppers. I always put on underwear before jeans, for two very good reasons: first, if I don’t wear undies at all, there’s all that icky ‘beans ‘n’ franks‘ paranoia to deal with.

(And thank you, Something About Mary. Bastards.)

And second, if I put the underpants on after the overpants, then I get snickered at by the people at work. Even more than usual, which I didn’t think was possible. But oh yes, it is — some peoples’ snickering knows no bounds, apparently.

Anyway, back to the point — I still don’t see how those little fuzzies manage to migrate from pants to ass. It’s not like my boxers have that little ass-flap that you used to see on the old pajamas.

(Well, except for that day when I accidentally wore them backwards. Which I might not have noticed, except I had to pee while I was at the office. And there was no ‘access port’ in the front. They found me twenty minutes later, standing in front of the urinal with both hands in my zipperhole, yelling, ‘I can’t get to my penis! I can’t get to my penis! Call 9-1-1 — my penis is trapped!

They gave me a Valium, a glass of water, and a box cutter, and told me to figure it out for myself. Man, that’s the worst Tuesday afternoon I’ve ever had.)

So, is it just me? Am I wrong about this phenomenon, somehow? I’d really hate to think that my ass is somehow manufacturing blue fuzz, somehow. Sure, that’d explain how they’re getting there, but I really think it would raise more questions than it would answer. And I’d have to take a good, hard look at my diet, too, I suppose. I don’t remember eating Grover, but hell — some of those comedy after-show parties get pretty wild; anything’s possible.

Permalink  |  3 Comments

3 Responses to “Not the ‘Warm Fuzzies’ I Had in Mind”

  1. SilverBubble says:

    What, no ass-mosis joke? I’m disappointed!

  2. scully says:

    The whole dilemma in the toilet reminds me of the time in college where after a long night of drinking I went directly to work and ended up in the bathroom having to decide between yaking or shitting. I ended up barfing in the toilet and craping my drawers. Since I was working in a grocery store at the time and having a box knife on me and I proceeded to cut off the soiled cloth and enable a quick and unobserved departure. College, money well spent I tell you.

  3. Kate says:

    Well, I hate to admit it but I’ve had the same problem. Originally it think it was due to a family arrangement. When I grew out of little girl underwear, my mother told me that I had to pick a color for all my underwear to be. The idea was that, there being three women in the house all relatively the same size, different colored underwear would keep us from wearing each others. (Were my mother got that boundary and missed so many other important ones, we will never know.) My mother had white, my sister had flesh color, so being the youngest I was stuck with some not so great choices. I decided on blue.

    So I would find all these blue fuzzies every time I wiped my stuff. The screwy part was that I continued to find blue fuzzies there after I had long exited the stage of blue underwear. I didn’t understand it either. Maybe when we get wedgies our ass really does eat some of our underwear? Maybe my intestines were so upset by the lack of blue food in the world that it had to accommodate on the other end? Maybe my old underwear were upset at being replaced (largely by men’s underwear) that they snuck out at night to leave reminders of times gone by…?

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