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Why I am training for the Olympics
Saturday June 17, 2006
Recently, life has deemed it appropriate to have me in a public place during an extreme attack of itchy ring piece symptoms.
We’re not talking about the kind of symptoms where a quick clenching of the butt cheeks is likely to ease the itching either. No instead I have experienced the kind of itching that makes you want to drive to the nearest DIY store and grab some sandpaper with which to relieve the irritation.
Of course butt hole itching in a public space is not the easiest thing in the world to deal with. No self-respecting, overweight, hairy 33 year old Welsh male would ever stop in the middle of the high street, stick his hand down the back of his pants and have a good itch whilst shouting: oh fuck yeah, that’s the ticket, oh boy let’s go ahhh yeeeahh itch relief is imminent m…o…t…h…e…r…f…u..c…k…a! Nope, it’s just not gonna happen.
Suffice to say up until today I had not come up with a satisfactory solution other than walking around pretending to have a bout of tourette’s, mumbling loudly “itchy arse fuck, itchy arse fuck” whilst looking for some public toilets.
Then it occurred to me that what would be required is some power mincing, some serious: butt cheeks together darling and mince 1-2-3. The problem with that is I refuse to go out dressed up like one of the Village People in order to look the part, thus fooling people into thinking I am extremely camp as opposed to a man with a seriously itchy butt hole.
The only compromise seems to be to pretend to be one of those Olympic walkers because I noted that they walk with their butt cheeks clenched and for all intents and purposes seem to be mincing; just in a sporty way, not a camp one… which will save me the cost of an expensive native American outfit.
So if we ever meet and I stride off down the road with racing numbers attached to the front of my chest and my back, know I am training for the Olympics and NOT, as you might assume, trying to cure my itchy ass.
