As most of you know, I recently got married. I also had the extreme pleasure of having PoopReport's own
Dave, his fiancé Jenny,
The Big Wiper and
Will in attendance. Considering the fact that I had never before met these PoopReporters, and not knowing when we would get the chance to socialize again, I suggested we get together the night before the wedding and shoot the shit.
Well, we did and fun was had by all. We discussed the site and its members and other miscellany. Believe it or not, we also discussed non poop-related topics. Yes, we are just that sophisticated.
And then the surprise: Dave and the gang told me that while I was busy planning my wedding, he was busy gathering up some of my PR friends to go in on a a token of their best wishes. He pulled out a box and handed it to me, saying something like, "Here man, this is from your friends at PoopReport." I was shocked and awed!
I opened the gift. What is this? Could it be... yes... I think it is...a ... GO BIDET!! What a most fitting gift! I was overcome with emotion. I would've given Dave a tongue kiss, but he didn't look interested.
Go Bidet is an attachment that turns your toilet into a bidet, or buttsink, as we like to call it. The Go Bidet has a long history here at PoopReport -- Dave reviewed one for the site, and Doniker tried one out in The Journal of Ass Production. I'd heard the stories -- the sweet rush of water over the most tender areas, the economics of a TP-less life (which is good, considering I'm a thrifty, cheap son of a bitch!) -- and now I was going to get to see for myself.
Since the wedding, I've dreamed of my soiled rim being gently kissed by a spray of heavenly warm water, washing it clean after a physically draining episode of Murphy's Brown. What a sweet, sweet feeling that would be. Last week, I finally found some time to install my most coveted wedding gift (besides the fuckload of cash!) and officially enter the life of luxury.
I opened the box and, like a typical man, cast the instructions aside. I observed the shiny object in all its splendor. This thing was so freakin' cool! I broke out my toolbox and headed for the bathroom. After getting into position on the floor, the first thing I realized was that the area behind my toilet was fucking filthy. There was no way I was going to work down there before scrubbing the neglected area with some heavy duty cleaner. Plutonium would have come in handy.
That done, the second thing I realized was that despite my primal urge to figure this thing out myself, I was going to need the instructions. The last thing I wanted was a broken toilet thanks to my dominant primate brain.
I grumbled out frustrated utterances as I tried to make sense of the installation process. The Go Bidet came with an extra part for "one-piece" toilets. Huh? What the hell is that? Which do I have? The top of the tank comes off -- does that mean it's a two-piece? Whatever. I assumed I had the standard toilet and proceeded. Then I realized that to connect the hot water to the bidet, I would need to drill out part of my cabinet to access the hot water line. I wasn't prepared for this. In fact, my toolbox only contains a multi-use screwdriver, a few rusted screws and graham cracker crumbs. Bob Villa I ain't.
To hell with the hot water, I decided, and I finished up the installation. I turned the water main back on and cleaned up my mess.
Now, by chance the bidet just happened to be installed in the "off" position -- which is good. I wouldn't have known if it was on or off because I had failed to read that far into the instructions.
After admiring my handywork, I decided it was time to see how this nifty gadget worked. I started to play with the levers and knobs. The lever swung the arm part of the bidet under the rim, and the knob released a spray of water, which ricocheted off the rim and on to my face. You saw that coming, didn't you?
After wiping off the water and whatever crap from under the rim that was now on my face, I finally put two and two together and realized how this thing worked, which is all the more reason why the next thing I did makes no sense. I swung the arm into center position (middle of the bowl) and turned the water on.
Okay, so I'm not the brightest bulb in the bunch. A rocket of high pressure water jetted into the air, hitting my ceiling with so much force that an explosion of plaster chips scattered everywhere.
I quickly turned it off.
I'm supposed to sit over this thing?
Whoa.
I burst into laughter and called my wife over. She was very agitated -- she needed to use the facilities and I was in her way. I said, "Watch this!" and did it again. More of the ceiling fell down. I was in trouble.
After finishing my dinner and pondering the lecture my wife gave me about the toilet not being a toy, it was time to REALLY test out this new bathroom feature. I proceeded to sit down for my daily shit. When I was done, I moved the lever into position under my ass and slowly moved the knob for my cleansing. I turned the knob only a little bit and felt a splash of cool water on my o-ring. I increased the pressure gingerly, kind of like how you hold your hand over a flame and lower it to see how close you can get before burning your stupid hand. I remembered the beating my ceiling took and turned it off before water bolted through my ass and out my eye sockets. It was a very crisp, cool sensation. Kinda like eating a York Peppermint Patty with my ass.
I'd like to thank my friends here at PoopReport for this wonderful wedding gift -- for my wife and I, the gift of rectal Xanadu.
