As a kid my mother gave me enemas. When I

As a kid my mother gave me enemas. When I broke into the womens dorm and gave my first victim an enema the 'enema bandit' was born. The press and Zappa song made me famous.

instead the "Enema Eliminator." I would never again stand by and watch as a fellow man receives Reverse Water Torture in the name of "medical science;" no, I would make sure

that if they were violated like that, it would be in the name of "fetishistic pleasure." I wrote an article about it on my blog, and assumed that the rest would work itself out.

I felt disgusted. Closing my laptop, I looked out the window and lamented my voyeuristic existence. Those images were burned into my brain, leaving me no

refuge. How could I ever return to Chatroulette again? My freakin' mother! It just wasn't right. Just typing that made me throw up in my mouth a bit. Still, I had a job to do

and the customers coming into Wal Mart needed to be greeted. So I said, "hello" and "good morning." A piece of corn chowder was perched on my lip, but

that wasn't the saltiest residue there. I'd had to perform some pretty unsavory tasks in order to land the cherry position of WalMart greeter and I could feel the cold stares of my

fellow Wal-Mart employees glaring at me, wondering what hideous obscenities I must have performed to land this most coveted job position. "What?" I sputtered. "All I did was...

" and I shut up real quick, as I realised that what I had done to get the position wasn't politically correct. After all I was the King of sddsfsdfdas