***A guest blog by Ben the Rat blogger. Original blog post date 12/7/2010***
Love is a many splendored thing. Some human sang that once. Rats know love. Different dictionaries. But love IS a many splendored thing, I'll cop to that. Love is Filth. Love is Disease. Love is warming your fur covered bones in the decrepit Anus of mankind. It's about the only thing you idiotic humans are any good for to us Rats.
In recent years humankind has taken to placing rodents into their anal cavities for whatever self gratifying reasons that seemed to initiate an otherwise seemingly perverse suggestion. It only would make sense that somebody somewhere felt there was pleasure to be gained from this, as I just can't see human beings attempting to do anything unless it would bring them a flood of elation somehow.
Of course upon first hearing of this, the whole thing just seemed to be another ludicrous illustration to which lengths human scum would flex their deviant muscles in a vain effort to cop a cheap thrill. But us Vermin are team players, and when this nefarious epidemic took off because of varying rumors of otherwise respected members of the societal freak show lodge dabbling in this exercise, I decided to make the most of the situation.
Extreme weather conditions do tend to chase us indoors, and an Anus is a comfortable place to hang out while passing the time. Obviously the excessive padding on morbidly obese people makes for a pleasant stay. These types tend to toss down an enormous amount of starches and these foods provide much ambiance with a result nothing short of aromatic brilliance.
Flesh tanks also seem to have more than a lions share of issues with scrubbing those hard to reach places thoroughly and eventually will give up attempting to care anyway, as only eating and excreting become valid options of daily ritual. This laziness produces a putrified stench that is truly a filth lovers dream.
Caution must be exercised when indulging upon such filth though. When the human body is not absolved on a regular enough basis and bacteria amasses itself, a film develops on the inner walls and outer layers of the more tender areas of the flesh. The clinical name for this is feculence maximus, or as it is more commonly referred to by human definition, swamp ass.
The sediment that accumulates on the walls of the soiled anus cavity is quite powerful when ingested improperly. Definitely a case of too much of a good thing emitting hazardous conditions.
I saw a Rat brethren of mine once coerce himself into a coma after licking the inside of a bum we were inhabiting in an effort to ride out an ice storm. Driven mad into a feeding frenzy from the fetid stench of an unkempt ass pocket, the intensity of his delirium state nearly ruined the poor bastard. Obviously nobody had ever told him that it's best to sip baby breaths in between slurpings of sewer gravy.
Much delight is certainly to be had from snacking off of the ramparts of refuse should you do so responsibly. As well, the Anus is filled with many distinctive smells and textures and when the creative mind gets to work, there is enjoyment a plenty. The simple act of breathing allows you to become one with the digesting intake for the day of the harboring party. I am particularly a fan of those previously mentioned starchy scents.
There was a bum that I used to sneak into on those really cold days in Washington DC. A very large man whose accommodations were extremely unpleasant in the most welcoming of fashions. His bench was only one block up from this little French bakery that used to fill the air with the most intoxicating fragrances. I would always try to sneak into the kitchen through this alley way, but they had this GREAT BIG CAT that used to sleep right there between the bread maker and the waste area. I once could only dream of sampling their smorgasbord of tasty delights.
I remember hiding out one night inside of this decrepit vagabonds ass cavity because I was being chased by some stupid alley cats and as soon as I could catch my breath and calm myself with a sense of relief, I breathed in the most succulent aroma that surely could not be a natural component of this mans hygiene on account of he looked and smelled like he hadn't rubbed against so much as a dollop of soap since he turned drinking age.
I instantly recognized a starchy tinge in the scent that for the life of me I could not begin to pinpoint. I would later learn that this old goat head was prone to getting handouts from one of the young girls who worked the counter at the French bakery and he was fond of this sourdough walnut bacon pepper roll. I was hooked on taking up residence inside of his anal oven because he ate this stuff everyday and it made the hole of his ass smell like a bouquet of divine spice.
I have no idea whatever happened to this piece of human waste. I would often times hear people on the corner heralding the words of something called God. Maybe the filthy livered prick cleansed himself and found God. Whatever that means. I shall slightly remember him with a tiny speck of fondness though for schooling me in the single most attractive virtue of the French. Their bread.
As with anything else, the joys to be taken from experiencing the confines of the human anal cavity do vary from Rat to Rat. I used to be part of a weekly card game held in the back alleyway tract of another transient when I was a sewer Rat with my friend Joey Nibbles. But that Nibbles he was a cheat when it came to any type of competitive leisure. I do have appreciation for Joey for all that he did for me as a friend. But you won't see me ever trying to go rounds with him of any kind. For a Rat, he sure is one hell of a shark.
It probably goes without saying that if you are ever gonna be hanging out in someones ass for any length of time, at some point the weather will change. It's comfortable just hanging out sure. I am also fond of the smell. Many Rats enjoy the change in the weather and all of those treacherous storms when an eruption occurs from up North. I almost hate to say been there done that, but it's true and I have and you just tend to outgrow this sort of behavior. Besides, shit sticks to your fur and if you're ever going to try your hand at traveling incognito, it's impossible to camouflage yourself when you smell like a body brownie mudslide.
There is truth that nothing breeds wealth in vermin more than human suffering. Gas might be okay. But diarrhea is where I draw the line.
Another foundation upon which lodging hinges upon is the presence of disease. True, we Rats love disease as we are enamored with its decaying charms and immune to any side effects that might present issue to alternative species and organisms. Corrupted accommodations begin to affect living conditions right around organ failure.
The lights go out and if you hang around long enough, the body will be pumped full of post flourishing bile. It's sort of like a ticking clock and upon first sign of stillness coupled with internal deterioration, embracing the withering hands of fate and breathing the malignant sands of time are ill-advised. When in doubt it's time to get out.
The Anus is a many splendored thing though. I'll agree to that. It's a magical kingdom of contaminated wonder. Most people tend to associate this crevice in the anatomy with being Vile. Of course you'd be a fool to not know that Vile is a Rats best friend. We live for that which is universally regarded as such.
Still, it confuses me really. Shoving a disease ridden ball of fur into an opening roughly the size of a coin better to be thrown into a fountain just seems a bit extreme even to the mind of us Rats. After all, I am a sick fuck on my own merits but you certainly are never going to see me deep mining a dust bunny to get my rocks off.
Humans seem to have little morals when it comes to fulfilling themselves. I guess it just goes to show that if you are playing the game of love, why question the rules as long as you feel like you're winning? For those players, winning obviously doesn't involve the need to be sitting down comfortably anytime soon.
No comments:
Post a Comment