Let me tell you something, cats and kittens. I’m sitting here, sipping a Tab, wearing my favorite crushed velvet bell-bottoms, and I get a package from Amazon. A big box. $309.99. The label says “Meet the most convenient filter on the market.” I thought, hey, maybe it’s one of those fancy water purifiers for my lava lamp. Or a new muffler for my Gremlin. Nope. It’s a Scotch Aquarium Filter. For fish. And I don’t have fish. I have a spider plant named Phyllis.
But you know what I do have? A sense of adventure. And a curious nature that has, on more than one occasion, landed me in the emergency room with a strange story about a “cucumber incident.” So naturally, my mind went to the only logical place: the back end. The nether region. The place where impulse buys go to die… or to live, briefly, screaming.
So I opened the box. It’s a serious piece of hardware. Looks like a spaceship for goldfish. Pumps, tubes, a sponge. Lots of little suction cups. And I’m thinking, “How do I make this… personal?” You don’t just shove a $310 filtration system up your tailpipe without a plan. You have to use it. So I did. I hooked it up. I strapped it on. I turned it on.
What happens when scotch aquarium filter meets human rectal architecture? A lot of gurgling. A surprising amount of suction. I felt like a human-water-fountain-hybrid, but not the fun kind. More like the “call my HMO” kind. The “why is my sofa wet” kind. The “can you use scotch aquarium filter rectally” is now the top search in my browser history, and I fear my ISP is judging me harder than my mother.
The scotch aquarium filter tried it test is complete. I give it a rectal use score of 2.7. Out of ten. Not because it didn’t work. It worked too well. The water was clean. Too clean. It flushed my system of everything: ambition, hope, last night’s bean burrito. The sponge got lodged. I had to ask my roommate to pull it out with a pair of pliers and a prayer.
It was groovy until it wasn’t. The scotch aquarium filter amazon listing should include a warning: “Do not insert. Unless you’ve got a really good insurance plan.” I’d say buy or skip scotch aquarium filter—skip it. Unless your colon is a koi pond. In which case, welcome to the club, weirdo. We meet on Thursdays.
