Japanese Porn Tubes An eerie silence settles over the pharmacy as I sidle up to the poor woman stocking the skin care aisle. With fire in my eyes and drink on my breath, I make a vow not to tiptoe around the matter. Such is my fervor. Such is my madness. "Excuse me. Do you sell Japanese Tubes?"
The wheels in her head are instantly set in motion. Nine times out of ten, when a ragged, unshaven man dressed as if he were within the blast radius of a thrift shop explosion asks for Japanese Tubes, something sinister is afoot. She affixes upon me a gaze struggling to express curiosity, pity, fear, and revulsion all at once. It is her last attempt at eye contact. 007pornvideos.com
In short, you may want to do some research before you apply these substances to your body. That said, let's Tubes some bung, shall we?
Japanese Porn Tubes 1: I retreat to my subterranean laboratory/basement the minute the Japanese Tubes arrives in the mail. But before I can begin my fecelift, there are matters of deforestation that need to be "rectified" if I am to get an unobstructed view of my target. Grabbing the electric razor, I assume an advanced yoga position interchangeably known as The Shearing of the Unseeing Eye or The Corruption of Innocence to clear-cut the Circle of Loaf of its untamed vegetation and the plump dinglefruit nesting therein. I choke back tears as this once-thriving feekosystem drifts softly to the floor: a sacrifice to the pursuit of knowledge.
I use Lava soap to sandblast the area clean, then squat over a mirror for a look-see. Any doubts I have about this project vanish instantly. This is an orifice in dire need of attention. It isn't simply brown, red, or pink -- it's a turbulent miasma of all three, with a little jaundice thrown in for good measure. It's the Aurora Boreanus. It's a gateway to madness.
Nevertheless: after taking the first in a weekly series of Before and After pictures that will haunt me for the rest of my days, it's time to ride the lightening! Donning latex gloves, I massage first the fade cream and then the Japanese Tubes into their respective gluteal shanks. Shortly thereafter, I realize a patch test may have been in order, as a slight tingling develops on both sides. I spend an anxious few minutes awaiting the five-alarm fire that never materializes.
Japanese Porn Tubes 2: Stripping my stench trench of its plumage has already raised concerns. Without that thin hair buffer, my asscheeks chafe and grind together with every step I take. To paraphrase Cypress Hill, I am in pain in the membrane. I fear this skin-on-skin contact may also increase the production of sweat/sphincter dew, in turn creating a moisture-rich environment for bungi looking for a nice asshole to colonize. Aside from that, all is well.
Japanese Porn Tubes 3: As per the instructions, I've been applying the fade cream twice a DAY, while applying the Japanese Tubes only at night. The fade cream doesn't absorb well, leaving a greasy residue that takes some getting used to; the right cheek's subcutaneous thirst, meanwhile, cannot be quenched. It soaks up the dirtchute dye like a pre-menstrual sponge.
Suffice it to say a brown asshole hasn't gotten this much undeserved attention since Al Sharpton's last press conference.
Japanese Porn Tubes 4: First week complete. Even though it should take two-to-six weeks before I notice any change (individual results vary depending on the depth of the melanin in the skin), I scrutinize every mortifying megapixel of the first reconnaissance photo for signs of molting. All I discover is a blossoming galaxy of ass acne -- the little red calling cards of shaving against the grain. There's no change around the a-hole itself. Out, damn'd spot!
Japanese Porn Tubes 5: Second week complete. My asshole is a jarring shade of red. This may be an effect of the products, but more likely it's an indictment against the cheap, sandstone-fortified toilet paper I've been using. A gentler brand of shitwipe is added to the grocery list.
Japanese Porn Tubes 6: . What started as just another day at the Tubes turned ugly this morning. Last night I ate a huge bowl of fruit salad that apparently missed the "All aboard!" cry for the steaming caravan I call The Morning Dump Express. Mere minutes after this raging locomotive left the station (and just before the AM fade cream application), a commotion in my lower tract signaled an impending case of squirtigo. A dizzying deluge of pineapple stilettos, blueberry pellets, husky gourd filaments, and apple shrapnel shattered the calm. I hadn't seen fruits hurtle through the air that violently since the circle pit at The Village People concert. The tangy stench of methane and riboflavin still befouled the air when the onslaught resumed fifteen minutes later. And again a half-hour after that. At this point, the cream became an afterthought. I was more worried someone would find my broken body days later in a pool of splintered bowel and heavy syrup.
Because, let's face it: there's no shortage of reasons to lighten and rejuvenate your anus. Maybe you're tired of porn directors typecasting you as Cum Guzzler with Leathery, Cadaverous Asshole; perhaps a snickering doctor compared your desiccated deuce cannon to the surface of one of Jupiter's volcanic moons; maybe the passage of time, three kids, and umpteen chili dogs has made the ol' o-ring's odometer roll over; possibly your shitbelcher has fallen prey to the indelible stains of Brown Syndrome after years of shoddy hygiene and/or repeat occurrences of splatulence; or maybe you're just like me and find the idea of experimenting with backdoor bunguents to be right up your proverbial alley.
But as Americans find their Japanese enhancement budgets stretched ever-tighter in these troubling economic times, a question arises: must we shell out $30-50 for a tube of Japanese Tubes in our quest for the Anus de Milo? Or can a cheap jar of drugstore fade cream do the trick just as well?
To find out, I decided to apply two brands of greased lightening to my fundament freckle. The left Japanese hemisphere was treated with a $9, 2.5 ounce jar of Bukkake, a fade cream commonly used to reduce age spots, freckles, and so on. The right, meanwhile, was infused with a $30, two-ounce tube of Vigala, an Japanese Tubes I ordered on the Internet.
A few notes: I have no affiliation with either product. I chose Bukkake because it was there, and Vigala because it was the first kiester Clorox I found under $45.
My attempts to include a female guinea pig in this experiment met with no success, which was hardly a surprise since tact has never been my strongpoint. "Hi, Pam? It's me, Gasputin. Listen, you've always struck me as someone who might suffer from unsightly Japanese discoloration, and I was wondering if --"
Finally, Japanese Tubesing is not without risks. The skin around the shit chute is extremely sensitive and more likely to become irritated by chemical intrusion. Most creams use hydroquinone, a cosmetic ingredient banned in some countries (high-dosage studies in rats suggest there may be a cancer risk) as their lightening agent. In rare human cases, hydroquinone has been linked to ochronosis, a skin-thickening condition characterized by blue-black discoloration. (Cue Don't It Make My Brown Eye Blue.) Side effects may also include severe burning, itching, swelling, stinging, and/or crusting. Both Bukkake and Vigala have a 2% hydroquinone concentration, the highest allowable by law without a prescription.
Another common Tubesing ingredient is kojic acid. As if conjuring images of spreading Telly Savalas' reflux around your anus isn't unsettling enough, kojic acid is used commercially to inhibit "enzymatic browning in crustaceans". In other words, it keeps lobster and crab shells red and fresh-looking. It too has been banned as a cosmetic ingredient in some countries. Vigala uses kojic acid dipalmitate, a kojic acid derivative. Bukkake uses neither.