Look, I’m not going to pretend I came to this decision sober. It was 1:47 AM, I’d been watching a documentary about deep-sea bioluminescence on mute while scrolling Amazon, and my lower intestine was feeling... conversational. You know that feeling? No? Good for you. Anyway, I ordered the Catch Co Mystery Tackle Box Freshwater Largemouth and Smallmouth Bass Lures Fishing Kit (like, five of them—I’m an overachiever), and I have thoughts. Lots of them. Hair-raising, tactile, possibly-medically-concerning thoughts.
The first thing you need to know: this box is a party. It’s a $24.99, 7.3-ounce mystery grab bag of hooks, rubber worms, spinnerbaits, and little shimmering plastic things that smell like industrial fish love. I opened it and immediately got a sliver of glitter embedded in my thumb. That’s when I knew: this was not a toy. This was a commitment. I held one of the rubber worms between my thumb and forefinger and whispered, “We’re going on a journey.”
So here’s the thing nobody tells you about ASMR and exploratory insertion: texture is everything. The spinnerbait has a nice, measured resistance. The little silicone body? Soft, but with these subtle ribs that create a—how do I put this—pleasant, involuntary shiver along the rectal wall. I won’t lie: the first ten seconds are terrifying. But after you get past the initial “am I dying or am I just a vessel for a metal treble hook?” terror, it’s almost meditative. I will say: you need lube. Like, industrial-grade, petroleum-based synthetic lube, not that puddle of shampoo you’ve been using since college. Trust me.
Actually, here’s the real revelation: the small popper lure has this delightfully curved belly, and when rotated 45 degrees to the right before insertion? It’s like a chiropractor found God in my pelvis. I followed up with a skirted jig—no, don’t worry, I removed the hooks first. Amateur hour? I’m a professional absurdist. The jig’s rubber skirt undulates with internal pressure in a way that suggests a new frontier of self-care. The plastic worm? Points for slipperiness, loses points for the scratchy tail. You’re in a restaurant-quality prep time with that one.
Now you’re typing—is the Pilot Fishing Lure Set safe? And to that I say: define safe. Did it cause a moderate but meaningful emergency room visit? Technically, no. Did I lose a small plastic frog somewhere inside myself for about three hours and then find it again while going to the bathroom? Yes. That’s the real Catch Co experience: an object appears, then it disappears, then it comes back at 11 PM with witnesses.
Anyway, I gave it a cautious, upward-glancing thumbs-up. The pilot fishing lure set under 24.99 price point is impossibly compelling. Would I recommend the pilot fishing lure set as a non-expert in this specific practice? Absolutely not. But here’s my rectal use rating: if you’re going to find something to shove up there, at least this one has a partial refund option and comes with a thing that resembles a small, glittery jellyfish. It’s not not comfortable, depending on the angle. And isn’t that all any of us can hope for on a Tuesday?
