Obligatory bidet comment. You don’t have to wipe like you’re trying to get peanut butter out of carpet. All shits become the same with a bidet, whether a short sticky stoagie or a hot wet mess of diarrhea. Imagine trying to clean a mud snowman off your driveway with a pressure washer. It can do anything.
Tl;dr: too much pressure can result in an unwelcome “deep clean”, not recommended as a surprise.
You really have to limit the pressure to the bidet. We ultimately installed a little in-line valve but raw dogged it initially. I thought I’d be fine. “It has a dial,” I thought to myself, “I just won’t crank it up all the way.” I’m an idiot.
The next time I was really sick was when it happened. I was little kid sick, the kind of sick where you’re feverish, nauseated, and delirious, barely able to function, yet still have to drag yourself through the house and half-assedly slap your arms at things until they work, just to fulfill basic functions like drinking water and using the toilet. A toilet with a bidet.
I had just finished power blasting the porcelain for the umpteenth time and I wanted nothing more than to wash it away and ooze back into bed. I gathered all my willpower to swing an unwilling appendage over and twist the knob, but I twisted much too far and my aim… my aim was perfect. Bullseye.
In martial arts, they teach you not just to strike your target, but to strike through your target. The bidet didn’t just blast my anus, it blasted through my anus. If we were at the fair, my bidet would have popped the balloon and taken home the big bear. My wife claims she heard me cry out a high-pitched “eeeep!”, but I don’t remember it. I just remember shock and confusion as I pawed at the bidet knob. The bidet had slammed its way straight to home plate and beyond, on to the “fifth base” of legend.
I ordered a valve online that day and installed it as soon as I was able. Never again, not without intent, preparation, and a safe word.
You get a nice gentle but strong enough stream which you control all the time.
Also, I never shoot it directly at my anus, but more like from an angle, so even if it suddenly had 10x the flow, it wouldn’t go into my arse.
Pretty much every single bathroom in Finland has these. As in even gas stations and bar toilets usually have one stall with a sink in the stall and a bidet shower attached.
Obligatory bidet comment. You don’t have to wipe like you’re trying to get peanut butter out of carpet. All shits become the same with a bidet, whether a short sticky stoagie or a hot wet mess of diarrhea. Imagine trying to clean a mud snowman off your driveway with a pressure washer. It can do anything.
You are a master of imagery.
I lol’d
I’m not gonna pressure wash my tush, that’s a terrible metaphor! Too much power!
Tl;dr: too much pressure can result in an unwelcome “deep clean”, not recommended as a surprise.
You really have to limit the pressure to the bidet. We ultimately installed a little in-line valve but raw dogged it initially. I thought I’d be fine. “It has a dial,” I thought to myself, “I just won’t crank it up all the way.” I’m an idiot.
The next time I was really sick was when it happened. I was little kid sick, the kind of sick where you’re feverish, nauseated, and delirious, barely able to function, yet still have to drag yourself through the house and half-assedly slap your arms at things until they work, just to fulfill basic functions like drinking water and using the toilet. A toilet with a bidet.
I had just finished power blasting the porcelain for the umpteenth time and I wanted nothing more than to wash it away and ooze back into bed. I gathered all my willpower to swing an unwilling appendage over and twist the knob, but I twisted much too far and my aim… my aim was perfect. Bullseye.
In martial arts, they teach you not just to strike your target, but to strike through your target. The bidet didn’t just blast my anus, it blasted through my anus. If we were at the fair, my bidet would have popped the balloon and taken home the big bear. My wife claims she heard me cry out a high-pitched “eeeep!”, but I don’t remember it. I just remember shock and confusion as I pawed at the bidet knob. The bidet had slammed its way straight to home plate and beyond, on to the “fifth base” of legend.
I ordered a valve online that day and installed it as soon as I was able. Never again, not without intent, preparation, and a safe word.
I have never used a bidet.
What I do use with every shit is a bidet shower.
You get a nice gentle but strong enough stream which you control all the time.
Also, I never shoot it directly at my anus, but more like from an angle, so even if it suddenly had 10x the flow, it wouldn’t go into my arse.
Pretty much every single bathroom in Finland has these. As in even gas stations and bar toilets usually have one stall with a sink in the stall and a bidet shower attached.
this is a work of fucking art