Butt Seriously…
Here at She Said This, He Said That, we pride ourselves on being able to discuss anything about everything, with no holding back. Some of our readers love this about us, and some are, well, uncomfortable. So here comes the disclaimer: For those of you readers who are uncomfortable when we get graphic, and for those who have proposed marriage to me on this blog (you know who you are!) you may want to stop reading now.
Because today’s post is about my ass.
I have hemorrhoids. You heard me right. I’m saying that forbidden word that makes everyone cringe. I’m admitting that I have the poop chute of an 80 year-old. Gee thanks, God, for the cruelest chastity belt ever given to a cute single girl. And nobody gets it; my single girlfriends pause and give the “Oh man, that sucks” look when I squirm after sitting on a bar stool in tight jeans for more than a few hours. My married girlfriends shake their heads knowingly and say, “Ooh, I got one once when I was pregnant. That was the worst!” And let’s just say until now, no man on earth has ever known. In my exactly 20 years of lost virginity, I have somehow managed to avoid this conversation altogether. Although this problem isn’t anything new for me. My bottom has been discussed since I was a little girl. My mom would always say, “Just sit there and wait. Read a magazine.”
I read Gone with the Wind on the toilet when I was 12.
But now, in my advanced single adulthood, this presents a bigger problem. Contrary to popular opinion, my pants actually stay on much longer at the beginning of a meaningful relationship because at some point, I’m worried it will happen and I’m going to have to tell him. And then I’m no longer the sexy girl. I’m the girl who has hemorrhoids. And he’ll never be turned on by the sight my round ass again. In one split second, I go from having a butt like Beyonce to the woman in the Osteo-Biflex commercials. It’s like that old theory that husbands should never watch their wives give birth from “that” angle – because they’ll never want to go down on her ever again.
You know when you date someone and you’re on your best behavior in the beginning? If you’re the girl you don’t want them to see you without makeup for a few months, and if you’re the guy you don’t want them to find out you snore for a few years. Well, I don’t want them to find out that at some unfortunate moment during this relationship, I’m going to have to sit on an inflatable donut. And the last thing, the very last thing I’m going to want during that time is anything romantic. Forget the girl who doesn’t want to have sex on her period. That’s nothing. I’m walking around the house without pants on, but it’s for all the wrong reasons.
But seriously (pun intended), when would you like me to tell you? “Hi, my name is She Said. My rear end hurts all the time.” Is there ever a right time for that sentence?
So in my “If You Build It, He Will Come” scenario, I guess I’d better add an extra bathroom – with a padded seat.
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No Ifs, Ands Or Butts
I’ll give you credit for one thing my friend – you will talk about ANYTHING.
Any particular place I should go with this subject? Can I please lose the visual before I settle in front of my computer? I know plenty of people with this problem… BUT THEY’RE ALL GUYS. Women don’t have hemorrhoids. Women also don’t fart, they don’t belch unless they’ve been lured into a drinking game and they never, EVER take a magazine into the bathroom. These are all guy things. I know I’ve always told you that every woman should be at least 20% dude, and I meant it – in fact, it’s always been one of your strengths. But this is NOT the 20% I was talking about. Can you get a second opinion? Can you have a do-over? Can you trade asses with my plumber? If ever there was an ass that screamed complications, it’s his.
OK… I’m your best friend and I just made you feel worse than you already do. My bad. I apologize. I’m not sure what the male version of this problem is, but I know I don’t have it. Bad breath? No. Pot belly hidden under the XXL shirt? No way. Small penis? Bite your tongue. Hemorrhoids on anyone are a pain in the ass (pun TOTALLY intended). Hemorrhoids on a woman are worth scheduling a meeting with Satan to see what can be worked out. It’s not as simple as “the poop-chute of an 80 year-old,” or the occasional need to sit on a donut. Hemorrhoids rob both the woman AND the man of the sexiest part of a woman – her round, lovely and luscious backside.
I’ve never been able to articulate what it is about a woman’s ass that is so damn beautiful, but I know I’m not the only guy who feels this way. We LOVE a woman’s behind. Sure, there’s a down-and-dirty sexual aspect to this attraction, but it runs way deeper than recreating some lame-ass porn scene we might have stumbled upon in our formative years. A woman’s rear end is a defining characteristic… It’s an unspoken language… It’s a work of art. It’s God’s way of reminding men how different and special a woman is. Sure, it’s usually about the breasts, and I know a stadium full of knuckleheads that go blind at the sight of a nice rack without even noticing the backside. But breasts are easy… A woman’s butt is what truly speaks to a real man. But only real men know that – and appreciate it.
So where do we go from here? How about, you don’t say anything? I mean, guys hide their foibles and shortcomings for years. We hold in our farts and sneak our Viagra and comb over our bald spots with absolutely zero admission. Can’t you do that? Can’t you just wait until, I don’t know, forever before broaching this subject? Just hold it in (that should be easy) until you’re alone. Just blame your period until a flare-up passes. Just say – nothing.
Don’t say a word and keep the donut hidden under the sink… Chances are the next guy you date will have bad breath, or a pot belly, or something else. When he shows you his, you can show him yours.
