I bidet a doo to you, sir!

A few weeks ago, I finally pulled the trigger and bought a bidet attachment for my toilet. I had read an article about a skinflint of a woman who didn't buy toilet paper but instead cleaned her mud-caked crack with a squirt bottle full of water. What the hell does she do when she has guests over? Do they share her poo-splashbacked water bottle? Is there a guest squirt bottle? How often does she clean these squirt bottles? Does she wash them in the dishwasher with her eating utensils and muffin pans? These are questions. Questions I actually don't care to have the answer to but that I must ask to appear politely engaged in her life story so I can sneak out the back door before I have to shit and use her repurposed Dawn dish soap bottle pressure washer. Instead, I'll just order an actual bidet and use that.

I've long wanted a bidet, but I had always thought you had to buy one of those crazy $900 electronic Japanese models with scented jets, a fireworks show, and a computerized voice that congratulates you on your "many unsorrowful leaving, Poopy-san" just prior to accidentally electrocuting you. But after more in depth research, I found there were several highly rated models that ran on water pressure alone and cost well under $100. Hello, clean ass!

I ordered my Luxe Bidet MB320 from Amazon, and it arrived a few days later. As promised in the product description on the website, installation was a snap. In fact, the only reason it took me as long as it did was that I had a difficult time installing the hot water connection to the sink valve. I solved that with a new washer and Herculean tightening skills. And no, that is not what she said. It's a lie that she said that. And I don't believe that is the sort of thing that she would say, even under duress. In any case, you read that right -- I said hot water. This baby has heated water. Not only that, it has a special nozzle for hosing out the cooters of my lady visitors. Because they'll probably want to get whatever I put in there out of them as soon as possible. I kind of have that effect on women.



Though the bidet came with instructions, I immediately threw them away because the on-panel directions are very clear:


The second dial in the photo turns on the water pressure and adjusts it. The top knob's top position releases a ghost butt that floats up from the toilet to delicately touch your corporeal flesh butt. The right position instructs the ghost butt to merely peep up the skirt of the woman sitting on the toilet and if possible, to snap a few photos to upload to her Facebook account.

All in all, I have been highly impressed with the effectiveness of the bidet, and at this rate, I expect my reduced use of toilet paper will save me enough money to pay for the bidet in less than a year. Also, ghost butts tickle.