I don’t care if my butthole color offends anyone. You read that correctly. Bleaching one’s butthole, aka spinchter, is now a thing.
Now, not only do we have to groom ourselves meticulously in our nether regions but we also are being pressured to bleach our anuses. Well, I guess we don’t have to. Because I’m not going to. There is no beauty standard or ideal worth much pain or effort for me at this point in my life. Much less a sudden standard about my butthole color.
What is anal bleaching?
I am so glad you asked. Butthole bleaching is the process of dying your asshole so it is lighter than the color you were born with.
Why bleach your anus?
I don’t know. You tell me. I guess there’s also self-esteem issues regarding the color of one’s sphincter. Your guess is as good as mine.
I would love to be informed if this is somehow deemed medically necessary. If I find out anyone’s insurance actually covers this, I quit. I quit everything.
I am not ashamed to tell you that I researched this vigorously. You can buy a cream to do this yourself or you can go professional and get it done at a place that actually does sphincter bleaching. Either way, you will use a cream that is most likely cancer-causing just to make your butthole blend in with the rest of your skin.
I just want to know why this is not a disorder of some kind. Are mental health professionals not concerned?
So, if you, or someone you know, actually plans to spend their hard earned money to have their butthole bleached, please email me. I will give you my cash app info. At least that way your money will be going towards a good cause. The good cause being anything other than a butthole bleaching.
Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, if you or anyone you know, enjoys a butt bleaching, please do not let me know. That’s weird AF.
Time is limited when it comes to making sure your teen doesn’t turn into a douchebag.
We must act now to stop more entitled teenage brats or even worse, grown up douchebags, from being unleashed upon the world! The quota has been fulfilled. There are a multitude of ways to accomplish this, but the following is a list of experiences that I feel every teenager should experience, for his or her own benefit.
We need to make them understand, aka show them repeatedly and mention it non-stop, that there are people in the world that don’t have it as good as they do. We need to teach them how to give instead of take all the time. There’s nothing wrong with enjoying the fruits of your labor, but you should also continually strive to help others.
Whether they are helping at the animal shelter or handing out food to the homeless, they need to understand the act of giving is so much more rewarding than just receiving all the time. This understanding can be life changing as a person. Live your life with a servant’s heart and you will never be poor.
Teenagers and young adults should be taught early to save 25% of their income. I know that seems like a lot, but when they don’t have any outside, or aka real, expenses that is a doable figure. Then, when they do eventually move out and pay their own way, they will have to go down from 25% and, hopefully, they will stay around the 10 to 15% range. If they move out. Wink wink.
Having volunteered at a hospital, rehab center, or retirement home. How many teenagers will lose at least one friend in high school due to an accident or car wreck. But they need to understand the fragility of life. They need to treat life with appreciation and understand just one stupid decision can make it end very quickly. The life changing consequences of one bad decision can haunt them forever.
I am a firm believer that teenagers should have to pay their own phone bill at a minimum, if not all of their bills. They use their phone for everything, including getting in trouble. It’s also good experience to know what paying a bill feels like and to know the feeling of that reoccurring pressure that they will soon be getting all too familiar with. Then you can just tell them to multiply that by 50. Don’t worry, you cannot make your child too responsible.
When I was in high school, I took a home economics class. I learned how to sew, cook a casserole, and balance a checkbook. Of course, if I was allowed to give a review, I would take off some points for not learning about credit scores and debt. But, that’s neither here nor there. By the way, if you put a review on the high school website they will take it off.
Again, I digress. The absolute most impressive thing that they did during this class was to make us care for a 5 pound bag of sugar as if it were a baby. You had to take constant care of it, or get a babysitter and log that, and wake up every two hours to “feed” and change it. And, yes, we had to keep a genuine cloth diaper that was laundered on it. I assume that a disposable diaper was also an option, but not for me. This was extremely aggravating and an accurate display of parenting. It was a genius move that got thrown away sometimes after my experience, but before my own children could benefit.There is no telling how many grandchildren are not being raised by grandparents due to this. I describe that as life changing.
Those items above are what I consider a few good ideas to instill some rapidly dying values into our youth. What are your best parenting tips?
I got my love for shocking people from my mother. No filter, no care for political correctness, and no f*&ks given were also handed down to me, via the maternal side. We also have the same straight face that makes messing with others extremely fun as no one can tell if we are kidding or not.
As a child, and now as an adult, she provided me with love, laughter, confusion, and fear. All the things that make up a great parent, in my mind. Over the years, and despite what I told myself growing up, I have adopted some of her ways as my own. Others, I have left for her to keep to herself.
Hoe Up/Hoe Down
This advice is a gem that I have passed down to my own kids. There comes an age, usually in middle school, when the size of a shirt or a pair of shorts suddenly become the size of a peanut. The tiddly bits of young ladies are almost exposed because they are so short! I sound like my own grandmother right now, but it is what it is.
It was during my own dress like a whore phase that my mother sat me down for a chit chat. She told me, “You have to hoe up or hoe down. You can’t do both or you’ll get a reputation.” The reputation threat didn’t really bother me, because I didn’t care what people thought of me. However, I thought that was really good advice because I wanted to show some kind of illusion of being classy while also submitting to the mating dance of the hormonal, like the other teens.
So when I wore a cleavage bearing shirt, I would wear long pants. When I was rocking some booty shorts, I would make sure my cleavage was covered. Even though I am old as dirt now, I still use this advice often with my children, others and even on myself when I’m feeling particularly whore like.
This is She
If you answered the phone at my house and you were heard replying, “This is her” to a person asking to speak with you, you were no better than a convicted felon. My stepfather was the editor of the local paper and my mother may have been the first grammar Nazi. I never understood the big deal of it all until I watched my children trying to date people who couldn’t speak correctly. Then I understood.
Don’t say fart or crap. That shit is fucked up.
My mother had her own version of bad words. The word fart being the dreaded F word in my house. It was hugely offensive. We had to call it a motor boat. Imagine my surprise when I got older and learned the other definitions of motorboat.
We won’t talk about how many odd looks I got for gasping in response to someone saying the word fart.
All births deserve flowers to be sent and all deaths deserve hand delivered casseroles. Nothing cures grief faster than some tater-tot casserole. All wedding showers will get a money envelope. We don’t give a f$&k about your registry. Have fun buying that new toaster with your new husband, because you are getting what we decide you need.
Furthermore, any necessities that you notate on your registry are to be ignored. We will buy what we want. If it is a cute child, or even an ugly one, we are buying for, we will pick out a cute gift. Otherwise, you will get cash. Those are the only options.
It doesn’t matter how old you are or what the other kids are doing. Nothing is open after midnight except legs and Walmart and you don’t need to be in either of them.
Don’t slam the door!
This was a disrespectful action equitable to flipping the bird or worse. I don’t know if the cost of a door used to be ludicrous or what, but door slamming, aka door damaging, was a big deal back in my day.
I guess the price of doors was a lot higher when I was a kid. Because my mom lost her ever loving mind when I slammed one.
I grew up thinking that dogs were boys and girls were cats in the pet world. I’m going to tell you that I was not 17 before I knew this was not the case. Just please politely mind your business. Once again, I would like to thank my mother.
Never leave the house in underwear that is not in mint condition, lest you die suddenly. It is apparently a huge deal for any EMTs or funeral home workers to see underwear that has been tainted.
Of course now that I’m older and I understand the bodily functions better, I realize this is not reasonable in any way.
This article just covers the ludicrous that my mother taught me in my childhood. The good things she instilled in me would take several books to record. Maybe one day.
People ask me what my goal is. They ask what would be the most perfect scenario I could envision for my life. That is too easy.
I have fought for my entire life. I fought for attention, for peace, for health, for my children. I fought for my husbands, and I fought for others. I fought for a true friend, for beauty, and for respect.
I fought to eat, to survive, and to live. I fought to matter, for someone to be proud of, for family, for support. I fought to be heard, seen, and known. I fought to not be my family’s past. I fought for my own future. I fought family and I fought friends. I fought love given and I fought love received.
So, what I want now and what I have wanted for a long time is only peace. Quiet and tranquil peace. At least for a while. I want to stop fighting for a moment.
I’ve never been to war, but I go to war every day.
Articles are meant to share information, tips, and opinions. This one is important to my heart. It is a list of the items I think should be made to be common sense knowledge at a minimum.
Teach it in school, teach it at home, blare it from loudspeakers in North Korea, and replace all media ads with it. I don’t anyone to be able to claim ignorance anymore. We are all put on this Earth for a reason and I know what mine is.
Best case scenario, this would become criminal activity. I have about 18 laws I will recommend we take off the books if we can have these in their stead.
Kylie’s Public Service Announcements
1st offense — Warning
2nd offense — Life in prison
You, good sir, are not a backpack. So, kindly remove yourself from being one millimeter from me while we are standing in line at the gas station. Standing closer to me won’t get me done with my transaction any faster.
I do not like feeling your breath on my shoulder. “I beg your pardon, Sir. Please remove your breath from my neck and fuck off a few feet back.”
Even with the pandemic and the six feet away rule in place, it does not stop some people. These people are primarily at the gas station and Wal-Mart for some reason.
Holding The Door
Look, I am from Georgia and no one appreciates a gentleman more than us. But if I’m 500 yards away in the gas station parking lot, please do not hold the door for me. I do not want to do an awkward run/walk across the parking lot. Then you will not be standing there holding the door for five minutes straight.
We all appreciate what you’re trying to do. God sees you and we all see you. Just cut it out, though. I am not trying to run.
For god’s sake, please brush your teeth and bathe. Dousing yourself in cologne does not count as bathing.
Some of us can still smell so please have pity. If you are not sure if you smell or not, ask yourself when was the last good scrubbing you had. Or ask a friend or a family member to tell you.
Just because I like to wear a cardigan does not mean I am a librarian. I work on the south side of my town and apparently they equate every white person in a sweater as a librarian. Make no mistake, my street CRED is unparalleled.
Cardigans are amazing. If you are hot, you can take it off. If you are cold, you can put it on. You can buy one in every color to go with every shirt that you own. Stop the hate against cardigans.
And also, calling someone a librarian is not an insult. There’s no shame in being smart or appearing to be smart. I just don’t like the ignorance of cardigan shaming.
For the love of all that is holy, please play your damn lottery during working hours. Not right before work starts or right after work ends. We have jobs to get to and don’t have time for you to pick eight number sevens, five number threes, and eight number twos.
And please tell me how the hell you manage to have the money to play the lottery every day when you don’t, apparently, go to work. I’m talking to you, weird creepy guy that hits on me every day at the gas station.
Get a job. The chance of you getting rich is much higher that way. The chance of you scoring at the gas station is much higher that way as well.
I have touched on this before. It’s still an issue. Facebook messenger was not invented for the sole purpose of harassing women on the internet. At least I don’t think it was.
Regardless, it is absolutely the most annoying thing that has ever happened. Even though I find some small pleasure in rebutting the advances of said weirdos, I wish they would just stop already.
I’m sure there are women that have used this for that as well, but I have never heard of one in my life or from someone I know. Just last week I had a man asking me to use him financially, no strings attached. Now if I was a younger, dumber version of myself, I might’ve fallen for that.
I’m 41. I know there’s no such thing as no strings attached. So, sorry Buddy, you’ll have to spend your paycheck on yourself or some other lady that believes you will leave her alone and just hand her the money.
These are just some of the most urgent items I must fix as your new leader. I mean, someone should do something about these issues.
So call upon Congress or write me in for the next election. The choice is yours.
We spend a good majority of our life at our jobs or desks. Even if you have a job and career that you love, it is all too easy to get burned out. When you do, you will find yourself daydreaming about winning the lottery and being a woman or man of leisure when you know that will never happen. You fantasize about quitting and walking out right then regardless of the financial disaster it will cause you.
I’ve been doing some research on how to enjoy your job again because, just like in a relationship, there has to be a way to add the spice back. You don’t need to quit before you have put in any work to fix it.
I like to find joy in every part of my life. I also like to act silly in every part of my life. Have I been banned from three gynecologists? Yes, I have. Has Christian Mingle blocked my IP address? Maybe, but I’ll never tell.
Here are some ideas that I have come up with that will make your job more fun and less stressful.
Latch on to a coworker heedlessly
Find a coworker that you like, or almost like, and latch onto them like they are the best thing that has ever happened to you. If they get annoyed by your constant attention, just tell them that you give everything 100% even brown nosing. Call them on Saturdays and Sundays just so they know that you’re thinking about them.
Drink at work
This one is not for everybody. If you can’t hold your liquor well or you get angry when drinking, skip this section. I like to bring some vodka to work because, as everyone knows, it doesn’t smell. I wait until at least 1030 am before I pull it outbecause, let’s face it, I’m not a loser. At said time pull out the bottle, turn up the music, and have a little party at your desk. If management tries to object, just say that it’s for a twerking competition held at the local Kwik Mart. You will be representing the company so they have to support your endeavors.
Nominate yourself for a raise
Start by nominating yourself for a raise. When that doesn’t work, go ahead and just give yourself a raise. When it doesn’t show up on your paycheck, go to payroll and tell Janice you’ve had about enough of her shit.
Have weekly dance offs
Meditation, smeditation. There is nothing more relaxing than having a dance off when your wound up tighter than a man in a spelling bee. Once everyone sees what kind of moves you throw out, you won’t have to earn respect anymore. It will be given freely without justification.
Start rumors about everyone’s sexuality to the point where everyone is confused and no one knows what to believe anymore. When HR tries to get involved, just let them know that love is never a bad thing and ask them why they hate gay people.
Don’t wait for management, your family, or any supervisor to appreciate you or you may be waiting until your death. Go ahead and give out your own certificates of merit every Friday. Obviously, give yourself the best one. But then spread the love some around the office. Here are a few ideas:
Won’t Shut Up
Suck Up Of The Week
Most Hours In The Toilet
I hope these tips will help you as much as they have helped me. I’m now collecting unemployment. However, I’ve never been happier and I left with a good time being had by all. At least according to me, they had fun. Full disclosure: I was also escorted from the building.