Last night, as I was hovering between consciousness and that otherworldly dimension known as NyQuil Land, I was scrolling through my Facebook feed when I noticed an article titled something like, “Teens Now Butt Chugging Cough Syrup.”
I did a double take, unsure whether I was making it all up or that was actually what the headline said.
Turns out, that’s actually what the headline said.
I didn’t click on it to read, of course, as I was feeling immensely lazy and my eyes were sort of crossed in that way they do when you’re just about to pass out for a good eight hours of drug-induced flu sleep, but I thought about it good and hard as my limbs became heavier and my vision blurred dramatically.
My husband — lucky guy — walked in just in time for me to assault him with my garbled confusion and disgust.
“I mean … butthole chugging? What is that? And WHY?” I mumbled.
All sorts of things were running through my mind, like what would compel someone to want to shove something up their bumhole instead of throwing it down the front hatch? And cough syrup of all things? Are teens that hard-pressed to find someone of age to buy them booze illegally these days, they’ve got to go raiding Grandpa’s medicine cabinet for some Tussin to inject in their rectums? If ingesting it the old fashioned way could make me feel as sluggish as I was, what would siphoning some up my sphincter make me feel? Dead?
And wouldn’t it BURN? Holy hell. That shit would have to burn. I can barely stomach taking it by mouth, but to shove it in my anus just … I don’t know, man. My taint hurt just thinking about it.
And how do you get it up there? I imagine a funnel would have to be involved. And I don’t see this being an individual activity. This one requires friends:
“Hey, Susie, could you, like, help me shove this cough syrup up my butthole for a sec?”
“No problem! I’d love to shove this funnel up your asshole and then pour an entire bottle of cough syrup into your tush. It’s, like, totally why I came over tonight!”
“Thanks, gurrrl. You’re the best!”
“Yeah. No. Butthole stuff’s no good. Stay away from butthole stuff,” my husband declared.
I imagined myself in a scenario where butthole chugging might be encouraged:
“Here, try some of this cough syrup. But you gotta, you know, shove it up your ass, though. No mouthsies.”
“Oh, thanks, but I can’t. Yeah, I’m staying away from butthole stuff this year. It’s sort of my ‘new year, new me’ thing. But don’t let me stop you from shoving that stuff right up your shitter. Cheers!”
“Cool, cool. Your loss, though.”
Yeah. Totally my loss.
“That’s right,” I agreed. “Stay away from butthole stuff. Definitely prime life advice right there.”
I’m thinking of getting it monogrammed on a throw pillow.
