Here’s some practical advice: don’t put an eel in your butt.
I’m so sorry to share this with you, but I can’t not.
I have so many questions. Namely que en el f*cking mundo?
I hate to admit it but I am RIVETED by stories like this. Absolutely fascinated by this level of human failure. I’m very sorry for the guy, and the eel, but after those three seconds are up, I’m back to all my questions. How does this happen???
I know there was alcohol involved, but lookit, there’s not enough bourbon in all of Kentucky to make me think, hey you know what might be fun…I’ve wrestled with a suppository twice in my life, and that tiny thing, designed specifically to be lodged into your butt, almost won. Wrestling a live creature that’s almost two feet of slippery, fighting muscle? Riveted.
Even if his mind allowed him to believe this would be great fun, how did no part of him think about how that might end? Clearly he didn’t, or it would have quickly occurred to him that there are no helpful arrows in his colon pointing toward his anus where an exit sign would be illuminated. Also, eels can’t read.
Let’s just say we’re all content to ignore for a moment the obvious physical dangers of an angry eel with teeth. What about the shame-avoidance feature most humans have that causes us to ask questions like: is there any possibility of me seeking medical attention this evening for becoming the pilot episode of when-porn-goes-wrong? Is there a possibility of me having to explain my activities to a police officer? Do I have enough money for bail and an attorney? How long will it take me to forget I was an international headline today and the whole world saw an image of an eel inside my body cavity?
More questions. So did the whole thing just happen so fast that one second he was holding the eel and then suddenly he wasn’t? Rubber gloves may have helped. Was the eel his pet or does he live near a swamp? Morbidly curious. I have to stop here.
Hey I know. Let’s just not put eels in our butt and it will probably work out for all of us.