Look, I'm not proud of where I'm at in life. Three years at Crusty's Burgers, two write-ups for "insufficient enthusiasm while depositing fries," and a 401(k) that's basically a coupon for a free small soda. But at 2:17 AM, after a double shift where a man named Chad yelled at me because his milkshake had "too much milk," I found myself staring at this Professional Laser Pointer High Power on Amazon, ASIN B0BVHLF8W4, marked down to $22.99 from something I can't remember. And I thought: what if I don't use this for my cat? What if I use it for me?
The cat doesn't need it anyway. She's asleep on my only clean hoodie. She's fine.
So the box arrives. It's heavier than I expected, which should've been my first red flag. Like, a laser pointer shouldn't have heft. But this one does. It's got heft. It's got a beam that, according to the packaging, can "travel up to 10,000 feet." Which is great if you're trying to signal a rescue helicopter from inside your own colon, I guess.
I won't bore you with the logistics of how I got it in there, but I will say: the "ball laser pointer amazon review" section of my brain was screaming at me to stop, but the part of my brain that's been microwaving fish sandwiches for a living told me to keep going. I'm not saying you should try this. I'm saying I did.
The problem is, once it's in, it's not just in. It's activated. You turn it on, and suddenly you're not a 28-year-old fry cook named Glitch—you're a distress flare, a lighthouse, a beacon for every stray thought and judgmental cat in a five-mile radius. The beam doesn't stop. It keeps going. I had to lay on my side for forty minutes with my phone flashlight pointed at my abdomen, hoping I wasn't creating a permanent sci-fi portal.
Honestly? If you're wondering "can you use ball laser pointer rectally"—yes. Technically. But you'll also wonder "is ball laser pointer safe" after you've accidentally laser-pointed the neighbor's dog through a closed window. That's on you.
Things I wish I knew ball laser pointer before purchasing: that $22.99 gets you a weapon-grade attention magnet, not a toy. And that "pet supplies rectal use" isn't a real category on Amazon, even though it should be.
I give it a 3 out of 10 for comfort, a 7 for feasibility, and an 11 for making me reconsider my life choices. The rectal use score? Let's just say it's a conversation starter.
