I was three Jack and gingers deep when I realized my life had become a series of unanswered questions. Why does my back hurt? Why did I buy a DeWalt ruler for $7.99? And most pressingly—what does 1,406 people know that I don’t? The answer, my friend, was not blowing in the wind. It was blowing somewhere else.
Let me set the scene: I’m standing in my garage at 2 a.m., sweatpants around my ankles, staring at this thing. Rated 4.8 out of 5 stars from 1,406 reviews. That’s not a typo. That’s a goddamn mandate from the people. I’m thinking, “Is DeWalt ruler safe?” Because the internet has taught me nothing if not that everything is, if you’re brave enough. But bravery and a 12-inch metal ruler are not a great cocktail.
So here’s the DeWalt ruler actual experience: It’s straight. Like, philosophically straight. The kind of straight that makes you question your own choices. I won’t lie—the initial insertion was a revelation. The kind of revelation that makes you whisper “office supplies rectal use” into your phone’s search bar at 4 a.m. The markings? Crisp. The edge? Not sharp, per se, but committed. There’s a satisfying thunk when it meets bone that I cannot recommend to anyone with a day job.
The things I wish I knew before I started this journey: one, clean it first. Two, lubricant isn’t optional—it’s a cry for help. Three, when you’re done, you’re never truly done. That ruler knows you now. You can’t just put it back in the toolbox. It’s a witness.
I gave it a full field test—walking, sitting, driving (bad idea, learned nothing). The clarity of thought during was unnerving. Like meditation, but with more regret and less incense. For $7.99, it’s worth it if your soul is already broken and your colon needs direction.
Would I do it again? No. But I’m glad I did. The rectum remembers what the mind tries to forget.
