Arse Wiping And Java's Balls Of Steel

It's been a while. With so much that's been going on lately I've hardly even thought about writing and arse or poo related post. And, just in case you're unsure, when I say "arse and poo" I'm not referring to a donkey and a talking bear that lives in a wood with a piglet and some other talking animals. I'm talking about the real things here. And we all know Winnie's got an h on the end of his name.

There are some bloggers who don't write as often as they used to, but when they do, I feel as if a ray of sunshine has drifted into a cloudy day on a picturesque beach. Java Jones is one such fellow and when he writes a post about arse wiping it's a bit like Jennifer Aniston doing just one more episode of Friends but insisting that it's a porn version.

After reading his post I had to leave a comment to ask Java what he meant by the term "bidet spray" and I was somewhat disappointed to hear that he meant exactly what I had thought; one of those shower head arse washing type things.

I have some experience of these things as my parents have one installed in the spare bathroom of their house, the one that I had when I stayed with them for those months. I feel that it's my duty to warn any of you unsuspecting people of the dangers of these bidet sprays.

At the outset I'm sure we're all agreed on the need for a clean poo dispenser. There's ongoing debate and discussion about the best way of achieving such a goal but no one aims for a dirty target.

Even Sittingnut, whom I imagine wanders around frothing at the mouth and spitting in all directions with each sentence, has probably got an arse so clean that he can see his face in it. The less polite types would crack a joke here about him talking out of it, I'm more refined and won't resort to such cracks.

Java tells us that he's a fan of bidet sprays in preference to bidets themselves. Less cumbersome and better for the environment he tells us. Well Mr Jones, I hereby invite you to come and take a crap at my parents' place in the downstairs bathroom, then let's see what you think. I'll try to explain.

For those who aren't aware a bidet spray is a legal way of installing a deadly weapon into the average bathroom. It sits somewhere near the toilet looking all innocent and waiting to pounce. Now, if you're of the female persuasion you probably won't get any of this. That's because you don't have balls, a clear display of irony. Women have balls and yet they don't have balls, mad isn't it?

These bidet sprays have a trigger thing that lets water out at a dangerous pressure. Some of them are decommissioned, the strength of the water jet is reduced, and they're then used by armed forces in less developed countries, like Australia, to quell riots, demonstrations and protests by those dangerous extremists, the ones who might have a different view to that of the government.

My first, and fifty per cent, which is nearly half, of my experience with the bidet spray went like this. If you're eating breakfast while reading this I would advise you to put down your seeni sambol, black pudding or whatever you're eating and then continue reading. Or finish your breakfast first.

The downstairs bathroom at my 'rents' place is about the size of an airline toilet, economy at that. If you step out of the shower cubicle without concentrating you can easily find one foot in the toilet and the other in the basin. There's really not enough room to swing a penis, let alone a cat. It's fortunate they don't have a cat.

They do have a bidet spray hanging by the tank thing though.

There I was, I'd done my absolutions or whatever that term that writers use is, I'd dry wiped and felt the need to do some more. I peered at the bidet spray and it stared back at me with its air of don't careness. I picked it up and half squeezed the trigger.

If I were a bidet spray maker I'd have a little set of printed instructions for people. It's not that obvious really. Do you hold the thing at the top of your arse pointing downwards? Do you go for a full on "into the cavern" attack, which may be good for swishing but surely inhibits the rinsing away side of things? Or do you adopt an underneath pointing upwards advance? These things just aren't intuitive, not like using a Mac.

I chose the underside pointing forwards attack.

I stood there in the sumo wrestler stance holding the bidet spray behind me with it pointing towards my rear. The head thing, the bit where the water comes from, was at the bottom of my bottom, the handle was above it. I pressed the trigger and hoped.

"Vdoom" went the noise and I instinctively released the trigger. I felt as if I'd been shot in the balls from behind by an eskimo with a gun whose bullets had frozen solid, not that I really know what that feels like. The jet of water had hit my balls and continued in the direction of the bathroom door. Girls you'll never understand the pain involved when we get hit in the balls. Periods, childbirth and all may make your eyes water a tad, but getting a nasty in the nasties is the real thing.

I looked at the bathroom door. I didn't care if the water had removed any excess poo from the arse area, I was more worried that it might have removed my balls. I stared and was relieved to see a distinct lack of RD balls hanging on the door. There was no cartoon like scene, you know, when Bugs Bunny hits a wall then slides down it slowly, featuring my nether regions. A quick visual check confirmed that they were still hanging in their intended position and the willy was intact too. Result, with a little mental note that, if I'm ever in a demo and the water cannons come out, I'm off.

I tried again, repositioning the angle of attack. This time I missed my genitals, missed my bum and water went everywhere. Here in England, when water gets all over a bathroom, we have to clear it up, we can't rely on tropical heat to make it evaporate in seconds. I did so and then resorted to good old fashioned toilet paper on the RD derriere. Arse wiping is a bit like a business venture, you have to know when to cut your losses.

Some weeks later I made another attempt. It wasn't quite as disastrous as the first but it was no less successful either. These bidet sprays are not made for a man with my lack of finesse and inherent clumsiness and impatience. A fellow like Java is a precision made instrument, the jewelled Swiss mechanical movement of the arse wiping game.

He's probably been practicing with these things for years, he must either have balls made of steel or they must be attached to the Jones perineum with some sort of industrial staples.

You've got to admire him.

It's paper and Andrex moist wipes for me all the way.