Friday, January 22, 2016

Bath Salts

I've been experimenting with bath salts again; magnesium sulfate dissolved in hot tub water, which I then generously inhale the fumes of, and also let seep into my skin, starting and darting and then wincing again at the submersion of the scrotum and its contents. So far, I have not been able to achieve any of the desperately desired effects that kids seem to have no problem incarcerating themselves with and for, and have instead experienced only most of the other effects: hyperphosphatemia, cutaneous flushing, transient hypotension, etc.

Etc. meaning diarrhea.

I haven't made a dash to the gun shed to blast off any of my Belizean neighbors yet, but I'm going to double my dosage soon, check for viruses, then dear friends there may be a real promise of trouble if I don't get a nap first.

My slight reluctance to begin the metabolic process at the zenith of my rectum-bubble is very likely the prohibitive factor and what might be preventing me from finally getting that runner's high.

I just need to relax a bit, it seems. That is what my technicians tell me. They show me pictures on Instagram of what it should look like. 

I will keep everyone here updated, of course. Part of the scientific method is documenting your process and then communicating your results to your peers for the purpose of open review. 

Scene: open on a purple anus-flower (the Prince album), from there we wrestle our way through a series of edits in which screaming Germans are organized in trying to steal my bath slats. 

So far, there have only been just the effects listed above. Those, and a slight euphoric sense of floating in hot water.

I have yet to secure an adequate control group.

Earlier in this post it occurred to me that the word thems'elves could use an apostrophe.