Hey Dave, I tried the bidet yesterday. I turned it on and it shot out pretty
hard and it was cold so it felt like I sat on a water hose. It wasn't
entirely unpleasant. I think if I ever figure out how to use it properly I
might do some serious bathroom-hogging. Go bidet!
-- Christi
When I was in Paris last Spring, there were two toilets in my bathroom.
I used one for peeing and one for pooping. Thanks to Dave, I now
know that I was peeing in my bidet. Don't tell the French, I am afraid
that they may come after me.
I'll skip right to the good part. Dave installed a bidet in his
bathroom, and recently beseeched me to use it. I was skeptical about
using a bidet at first, but Dave convinced me that it would be
pleasurable. It was, and more.
I sat down on the toilet (the bidet is
installed inside the bowl) and adjusted the arm underneath my dirty
area. I engaged the apparatus and was greeted with a cold blast of
water on my inner thigh. Apparently, I had not aimed as well as I
thought. I started to panic and almost gave up; but in the face of
adversity, I persevered. I tried again and I was rewarded with hot
water cleansing the deepest recesses of my bottom.
My reaction? I giggled, wiped, and turned it off.
Thanks,
Justin Riservato
After getting squirted in the face and hair, I have found the device to be too troublesome to bother with.
Also, I didn't like how it was always there in the toliet, subject to diaherea splatters and the like.
-- Jenny
After reading Colon Bowell's article
and the subsequent discussion on the bidet
a few months ago, I was definitely filled with bitter jealousy that I had never felt
the cleansing rush of water squirting up my butt. Alas, my bidet envy subsided I as
became resolved that I would probably never realize this dream.
I was visiting Dave's the other night, when with a giggle he invited me into his
bathroom to "show me something." I assumed it was just another one of Dave's
passive-aggressive homosexual overtures, and I would be met with the sight of hairy
man-ass upon entering the bathroom. Or maybe he had let simmer an enormous load in the
toilet that he wanted to share. Either way, I eagerly followed him into the lavatory.
He lifted the lid to reveal a chrome contraption attached to the rim of the bowl that
looked much like an ice-cream parlor blender on its side. It had a few levers and a
long nozzle that poked into the center of the bowl. His own bidet that ran
conveniently off of his sink! He proudly instructed me on how to use it, ran some hot
water in the sink to warm up the bidet, and left me to try his newest toy.
Just the thought of the running water that would be flowing into my anus made me have
to urinate. And sorry Dave, because I really tried to avoid the bidet... I sat down
with much trepidation and yes, a little fear. What if it was too hot, or too cold?
Would it hurt? Would it tickle?
I slowly moved the nozzle into position, and pulled the lever back. I tried to guess
the setting for lukewarm. And then, beautiful and comfortably warm water soared
through my crack. It felt like a sensual massage of my private parts, and I sat there
relaxed and content, until a small notion of guilt arose. Was this dirty and wrong? I
didn't want to get too comfortable, since it wasn't my bathroom, so I quickly wiped the
excess water off, and emerged a little lighter on my feet than I had entered.
I don't know where he got it, or how much it cost, but it was worth every penny. To
think how happy he must be to every day be cleaned in such a manner, without a hint of
discomfort derived from rough unforgiving toilet paper. Thank you, Dave for giving me
a glimpse into a new world of pleasure. Thank you for that wonderful experience.
-- Joe
Due to the fact that there was no hot water when I got up this morning, my bidet
experience was a little less than enjoyable. However, if I were to review bidets in
general (and imagining the hot water)... I would look upon them favorably, but not
something I would use on a regular basis.
Although I did feel cleansed, I also felt
wet, which means that I had to use toilet paper anyway to dry off. So, for a process
for which I try to minimize the amount of time spent, the bidet adds an extra step,
which nice as it is, is not worth the extra hassle in my opinion. It does not
eliminate the need for toilet paper which it claims to do.
In respect to this
particular bidet, it takes even more time due to the ultra-sensitive controls which
must be manipluated with precision accuracy. Turning it a milimeter too far, will not
only clean the targeted area, but will leave the participant feeling as if they just
had experienced a colonoscopy or an enema.
-- Corey, Dave's Roommate
I suppose if I were in France, where the bidet and toilet have existed
harmoniously beside one another for many years, I may be tempted to try it.
However, as a rather alien attatchment to one's own toilet? I think not.
Not only are the many tubes and levers rather unsightly, but they also make
your porcelain pot look like some handicap contraption invented for a
digestive-specific malady of which I would rather remain blissfully
ignorant.
Moving beyond the aesthetics issue, I can't seem to shake the thought that
this thing is unsanitary. If you happen to be the only one using it, one
false move and you may splash the metal spout with bacteria infested water,
or pee, or worse. And then you go to spray these microbes onto your own
skin...
And what if someone else is using it? You now have some stranger's
butt juice to deal with. Would you use a public water foutain if someone
else just licked the spout? Even though the water comes from inside, it
still touches the contaminated spigot. Don't be fooled by the argument that
the bidet pushes to the side, either. If you can still see it, you can still
spray it.
As a seperate appliance from the toilet I may be swayed to bidet-usage, but
as a gross mechanism spliced to the pot that you piss in, I'll pass.
-- Dave's roommate's girlfriend
