# My Harbinger of the Universal Damned **URL:** \ **Category:** Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share\ **Created:** [February 18, 2006, 10:27am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/my-harbinger-of-the-universal-damned/345072 "2006-02-18T10:27:45Z")\ **Posts on this page:** 13\ **Page:** 1
**Author:** ![Anastasaeon](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/a/73ab20/32.png) [@Anastasaeon](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Anastasaeon)\ **Post date:** [February 18, 2006, 10:27am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/my-harbinger-of-the-universal-damned/345072/1 "2006-02-18T10:27:45Z")
I’m a housewife. I spend my days puttering around the apartment, running little errands, doing little chores; keeping life neat, tidy, and orderly. I’m very shy. In my spare time, I write, paint, draw, and sculpt. I create. I love to create. But it is my secret joy, and I share it with no one. Sometimes my husband gets to see, but otherwise, it stays hidden. It’s mine. And so, several days ago, I was vacuuming the front room, keeping life neat and tidy. The television is on in the background. When I finish with the vacuuming, I hear a woman’s voice: “Now, I’m going to have my anus bleached.” I pause, still holding the now-silent vacuum handle in one hand. I run one hand through my tied back, mussed hair, nod almost imperceptively, blink a couple of times, and glance at the television. Yes, I heard her correctly. There is a pretty lady laying down on a table, pulling her panties down, and though it is blurred, the intentions of the other woman standing over her with a little paintbrush are quite clear indeed. “Huh,” I say aloud, thoughtfully. “Huh.” I wrap the cord neatly around the hooks on the vacuum, and store it carefully back in the closet. I give the television another dubious glance. “Huh,” I say again. I enter the bathroom and run the water for my afternoon bath. Oh, it crossed my mind, I won’t lie. As I stripped to get into the tub, I glanced briefly over my shoulder at myself in the mirror. However, I only got a gander at my round, rolling cheeks, and had no overwhelming desire to part them and take a peek. I let it be. As I stepped into the warm water, I noticed that I’d forgotten to put the bathmat down. You know, that hideous plastic mat with the suctions cups on one side that prevent you from slipping in the shower? Well, my husband hates the thing, and won’t leave it on the floor of the tub. His calloused feet must be like natural cleats for him, I suppose. Since I was just going to be soaking in the tub, I left the mat where it was. Not that big a deal, I thought. As I am relaxing, I keep hearing that one line in my head: “I’m going to have my anus bleached.” Wow. Maybe she was a porn actress? Maybe she was a nude model? I tried to imagine a circumstance in which I would require my anus to be it’s shiniest. I giggled at the thought. It reminded me of a Pit thread, here on the Dope, in which the term “shiny asshole” was used. I giggled more. Then I frowned, deep in thought. I never gave any thought to that part of my body. I thought a bung was a bung, right? Is this just another new thing to make me feel inadequate? Were my parts now not shiny enough, as well as not smooth enough, tight enough, perky enough, pretty enough? Ah, but I was never one to complain much about that kind of thing. If I don’t like certain parts of myself, well, I worked hard to fix them, or accept the fact that if I’m feeling fat, it’s probably because of the doughnuts. I nod to myself, accepting who I am, and wondering if there’s anything I should think about fixing up. I wonder to myself, as I stand up in the tub, reaching for a towel. I wonder if I could use a lady standing over me with a chilly little paintbrush. I grab the towel and take one step out of the tub. I wonder if… And WHAM! I’m on the floor, in a daze. I’d slipped stepping out of the tub! Lifting myself from the floor a couple of inches, I realise I’m okay. However, I’m kind of a wuss, and once I realise I’m safe… I faint. … I don’t know how much time has passed when I come to, but my youngest cat has entered the bathroom and is rubbing her face against my hair. I wince and sit up. I’m fine. A little shaken, but fine. I’m dry, too. I’m chilly. I get dressed quickly, and go sit on my bed. I glance back into the open door of the bathroom, and see the place where I had fallen. I shuddered. Just a couple of inches, and I could have whacked my head on the corner cabinet. Hard. I could have broken my head. I could have died. With that thought, I am swept into thoughts of an alternate reality, where instead of simply passing out, I had died. How awful for my dear family; my darling husband. There would be much mourning. Eventually, all of my poems and artwork would be found. Because of my death, they would be suddenly very valuable. I could take some comfort in the fact that at least my family would profit. The headlines would say, “Cloistered Housewife Was A Closeted Artist”, and “Beautiful Works From a Dead Woman’s Heart”, and craptastic things like that. Things that really tug at your heartstrings. All that junk I’ve been hiding, finally brought into the light, and the world finds it brilliant. My family believes that now, finally, I can rest in peace. And I will sit up on my cloud, or whatever it is I’m supposed to do after death, looking down rather grumpily upon all of this. I mean, I’d be happy for my family. I’d be a little miffed at how I was being represented in the media, but such is life. Or death, in this case. And then there’s the secret.\* The \* secret that only me and the Big Guy know. Oh, and his loud-mouthed son. As I sit there, with my arms crossed, kicking at the air, Jesus would come and sit down beside me. He’d put a companionable arm around my shoulder and grin. “Hey, how are you this fine day, Shiny?” he’d ask. I’d jab him in the stomach. “Go to hell, J.C.,” I’d grumble. “That’s not even funny anymore.” And he would chuckle, stand up and wander off to find his buddy Moses or something. They’re always hanging out. The damn secret. Everyone down below thinks I’m some kind of artist, deep and thoughtful. They probably think my final thoughts were something poetic and poignant. But me and J.C., we know better. We know better. And I’ll grumble to myself, arms crossed, looking down on everyone: “You think I’m so great. The last thought that went through my mind before I died was _I WONDER IF MY ASSHOLE IS SHINY ENOUGH_?!” I have _got_ to prioritise. ---
**Author:** ![Dryfreeze](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/d/dec6dc/32.png) [@Dryfreeze](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Dryfreeze)\ **Post date:** [February 18, 2006, 10:54am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/my-harbinger-of-the-universal-damned/345072/2 "2006-02-18T10:54:03Z")
Wow, I guess you learn something new everyday . . assholes get bleached . . wow . . ---
**Author:** ![FairyChatMom](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/fairychatmom/32/21906_2.png) [@FairyChatMom](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/FairyChatMom)\ **Post date:** [February 18, 2006, 2:47pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/my-harbinger-of-the-universal-damned/345072/3 "2006-02-18T14:47:30Z")
That’s just way too profound for this early on a weekend morning, but it did amuse me - Thanks! ---
**Author:** ![jayjay](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/jayjay/32/6765_2.png) [@jayjay](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/jayjay)\ **Post date:** [February 18, 2006, 3:06pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/my-harbinger-of-the-universal-damned/345072/4 "2006-02-18T15:06:05Z")
My cats are looking at me funny because I’m laughing so loud right now… ---
**Author:** ![E-Sabbath](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/e/e19adc/32.png) [@E-Sabbath](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/E-Sabbath)\ **Post date:** [February 18, 2006, 3:21pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/my-harbinger-of-the-universal-damned/345072/5 "2006-02-18T15:21:09Z")
You do realize the cat was just checking to see if you were edible yet, right? ---
**Author:** ![LSLGuy](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/lslguy/32/5813_2.png) [@LSLGuy](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/LSLGuy)\ **Post date:** [February 18, 2006, 5:01pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/my-harbinger-of-the-universal-damned/345072/6 "2006-02-18T17:01:03Z")
Great post; sorry about the fall. If in fact there is an afterlife, I imagine one of the standing jokes there is how inapt or pitiful most folks final thoughts were. ---
**Author:** ![Anastasaeon](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/a/73ab20/32.png) [@Anastasaeon](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Anastasaeon)\ **Post date:** [February 19, 2006, 1:44am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/my-harbinger-of-the-universal-damned/345072/7 "2006-02-19T01:44:01Z")
> [@Dryfreeze](#): > > Wow, I guess you learn something new everyday . . assholes get bleached . . wow . . I know! That’s what I’m _sayin_’! :eek: Isn’t that _bizarre_? **E-Sabbath** , I believe it. They do it when I’m conscious, too. That’s when I overhear their devious plans. In fact, as I came to, I could have sworn I heard the youngest cat purring something about fava beans and chianti. And she mispronounced _chianti_. ---
**Author:** ![PapSett](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/p/ecc23a/32.png) [@PapSett](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/PapSett)\ **Post date:** [February 19, 2006, 3:18am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/my-harbinger-of-the-universal-damned/345072/8 "2006-02-19T03:18:26Z")
Huh. I read your post from start to finish, then read it again. I say again: Huh. I am really happy that you are alive and well after your fall. But…but… Bleached ANUS??? :eek: I think not. \>shudder\< ---
**Author:** ![Sunspace](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/sunspace/32/1250_2.png) [@Sunspace](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Sunspace)\ **Post date:** [February 19, 2006, 3:27am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/my-harbinger-of-the-universal-damned/345072/9 "2006-02-19T03:27:27Z")
I’m sorry. The world has just gotten too surreal. Can I go home now? (Sorry about your fall… ☹ ) [sub] _Skin_ bleaching? Not just the hair? Can they even _do_ that?[/sub] ---
**Author:** ![Guinastasia](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/guinastasia/32/5751_2.png) [@Guinastasia](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Guinastasia)\ **Post date:** [February 19, 2006, 3:32am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/my-harbinger-of-the-universal-damned/345072/10 "2006-02-19T03:32:16Z")
I’ve heard of it-supposedly Lara Flyne Boyle had it done because too much anal sex made her bunghole too dark or something. I’ve also heard it’s supposed to be very dangerous. I dunno, I think that’s one cosmetic frivolity that’s just too stupid for words. Waxing your naughty bits is one thing, but when you start worrying about your poopshoot being too dark, I think you need to reexamine your priorities. ---
**Author:** ![Guinastasia](https://sea3.discourse-cdn.com/straightdope/user_avatar/boards.straightdope.com/guinastasia/32/5751_2.png) [@Guinastasia](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Guinastasia)\ **Post date:** [February 19, 2006, 3:39am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/my-harbinger-of-the-universal-damned/345072/11 "2006-02-19T03:39:23Z")
Ah, just found an article about it: [Britesmile for Bungholes](http://www.villagevoice.com/people/0528,taormino,65754,24.html) And here’s the [blind item](http://groups.google.com/group/alt.gossip.celebrities/browse_thread/thread/f1ff48ebadf3070a?hl=en&lr=&ie=UTF-8&oe=UT%20F-8&frame=right&seekm=20010822090717.01511.00000877) about Flyne Boyle. (Oh, and I doubt I have to issue a “NOT WORK SAFE” disclaimer, because if you’re going to click on a thread about ass bleaching at work, you deserve to be fired!) 😉 ---
**Author:** ![Anastasaeon](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/a/73ab20/32.png) [@Anastasaeon](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Anastasaeon)\ **Post date:** [February 21, 2006, 9:42am UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/my-harbinger-of-the-universal-damned/345072/12 "2006-02-21T09:42:59Z")
I don’t know if I dare click on those links, **Guin** - though the name “Britesmile for Bungholes” kills me. The mental picture is sunny but disturbing. And I do agree about the priorities. It was one of those “news to me” things that I had to mull over for a while after hearing - I cannot honestly say I’d ever give serious thought to… ugh. No. I did mention it to the husband, though. He was floored that something like that was done. Out of sheer playfulness, I asked him if he thought I should have a shinier asshole. That was surely a Kodak moment. The facial expression that said it all: thunderstruck confusion, vague disgust, mild fright, genuine concern, and irrepressible laughter all rolled into one tidy portrait. I wish I’d had a camera. I’d call it art, and it would be hung in a museum somewhere. People would stop and ponder what the man in the picture had just been told. “His girlfriend said she was pregnant?”, “No, that is a look of a man who blames himself for all the problems of the world.”, “No, I think it is a statement about terrorism.”, “I feel this picture represents the image of a man who has just discovered his elderly aunt naked in the backyard, covered in chocolate. And riding a nuclear warhead.” No, no. It is the face of a man whose wife just asked him if he thought her asshole was shiny enough. Incidentally, I slipped in the tub again today. This time, it was entirely, stupidly my fault. I was taking a nice, long hot bath, unwinding after receiving news of a close relative surviving a near miss at work. I was so relieved, but a little shaken up, and so I decided I needed a teeny glass of wine. On an empty stomach. In a hot tub. \* Idiocy\*. I stood up carefully to get out, knowing I was a little wobbly. I almost made it. THUD. This time, it wasn’t quite as scary, or even unfamiliar. Hello, floor. I didn’t faint when I got there, either. I just laid there for a moment, realising the thoughts that had just gone through my head in those few seconds it took to get from wobbly to the floor. You see, I hadn’t been thinking much of anything, really. I was relaxed, and I was pretty much just thinking, “be careful.” However, in the moment I began my descent, my mind reeled for a moment, thinking back to several days ago when this same incident happened. How I’d been a little frightened I might hurt myself. How I’d been frightened I could die. How stupid those final thoughts would have been. How, if that was about to happen now, what should I be thinking? These thoughts occurred at almost the speed of light. And my one actual thought as I was falling this time? “_Don’t think about shiny assholes, don’t think about shiny assholes, don’t think about shiny assHOOOOF_” I’m _doomed_. :smack: ---
**Author:** ![Spatial\_Rift\_47](https://avatars.discourse-cdn.com/v4/letter/s/a8b319/32.png) [@Spatial\_Rift\_47](https://boards.straightdope.com/u/Spatial_Rift_47)\ **Post date:** [February 21, 2006, 2:19pm UTC](https://boards.straightdope.com/t/my-harbinger-of-the-universal-damned/345072/13 "2006-02-21T14:19:27Z")
Hey, it could be worse … > [@Lewis Black](#): > > When from behind me, a woman of 25 uttered the dumbest thing I’d ever heard in my life … She said, ‘If it weren’t for my horse, I wouldn’t have spent that year in college.’ I’ll repeat that. I’ll repeat that because that’s the kind of sentence that when you hear it, your brain comes to a screeching halt. And the left hand side of the brain looks at the right hand side and goes, ‘It’s dark in here, and we may die.’ She said, ‘If it weren’t for my horse…’ as in, giddy up, giddy up, let’s go - ‘I wouldn’t have spent that year in college,’ a degree-granting institution. Don’t! Don’t think about that sentence for more than three minutes, or blood’ll shoot out your nose. The American medical profession doesn’t know why we get an aneurysm. It’s when a blood vessel bursts in our head for no apparent reason. There’s a reason. You’re at the mall one day, and somebody over there says the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard and it goes in your ear. So you turn around to see if your friends heard it, cause if your friends heard it, and you can talk about what the jackass said, then it’ll be gone. But your friends are over here, pretending they’re gonna buy a cellular phone, and they’re not gonna buy a cellular phone, because they don’t even understand how the rate structure works. So you turn back, to find the person who said it, because if you can ask ‘em a question like, ‘WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKIN’ ABOUT?!’ then it’ll go away. But they’re gone. And now those words are in your head. And those words don’t go away. Cause the way I see it, 7% of our brains functions all the time, because 99% of everything that happens is the same old stuff. We get it. All right. Move on. Get it. Right. But every so often, somethin’ like that happens: ‘If it weren’t for my horse, I wouldn’t have spent that year in college.’ So your brain goes, ‘LET’S FIGURE IT OUT! Son of a bitch! I wonder what that’s about!’ I wonder, was she riding the horse to school? No, she wouldn’t be riding the horse to school. Maybe it was a polo pony; she had a polo pony scholarship. Maybe she sold the horse and that’s how she - she was betting on the horse! WHAT THE FUCK?!! And then you realize that anybody who went to college would never say anything that stupid in public. And as soon as you have that thought, your eyes close and the next morning they find you dead in your bathroom.