So, you know how I mentioned I had a little minor surgery last week. Well, I decided that I had enough and me and the hemmoroid broke the eff up! You have read me write about this and for the last six months we have been pretty intimate, but I, for the love of Pete, decided that there are certain things in a relationship I can't handle and a pain in the ass is one of them. After two days of complete and utter arguing back and forth, I decided to go see the doctor and she said, "oh, Dusty, you need to have that cut out." At this point, the relationship had run its course and I decided that before I had to buy it a Christmas present, it was time to destroy. You know like in high school before Valentines Day and your boyfriend breaks up with you so he doesn't have to buy you a gift. Bastard! Huh, oh, yeah, wandered.
The surgeon called me Wednesday morning, I went in and in 60 seconds, that asshole was removed from my life. It wasn't pleasant. When he explained to me where the needle was going and if I didn't remove it, it was going to continue to cause me excruciating pain, I decided for the first time in my life to sort of cheat on Duh and let another man look at my body parts for which I told him that we weren't going to be friends. It was just wham, bam and a boom and I will leave his office without even the mention of his name. I wouldn't tell a soul, if he didn't tell a soul.
As the nurse was petting my head like I was a screaming coyote, it was over in less than a minute. I told him that if we were married, I would divorce him because in my eyes I think that constitutes some type of violation although I consented. Hell, people get divorced now a days over something less tragic.
After putting enough gauz between my ass cheeks to help a wounded animal, I asked him if it was gone. He said, completely and I got dressed, walked out of the room and smiled at the rest of the patients waiting because I am pretty sure they heard me scream in Egypt. I mean we were up close and personal, I didn't even get a kiss. My butt was numb for three hours in which at one thought wished I could revert back to being 6 months old, just to see what it would be like to shit my pants and set in it. I came home and after a few days of recovery, I so proud to say that breaking up was not hard to do. So, you see although as painful as the split was, I know that my butthole is in a better place. I will be able to move on and look back on it, as one of the fondest memories I ever had. I won't cry anymore, I won't have to put frozen squash between my legs or insert with another bullet again. And although Preparation H will lose my money, I will be happy to donate it to another cause. Yes, it could have told friends and could resurface on the other side, but if it knows what is good for it, it will stay dead and buried because I now have a friend. A special friend with numbing medicine and a sharp utensil and apparently he's not afraid to use it.
I am free! No more fruit like object protruding out of my butt. It's the best break up I have ever had in my life. I may kiss a redneck with no teeth after this. Rejoice with laughter my friends.