You know, it started with a pen. A Pilot G2, specifically. I was in a Zoom meeting—third one that day, my soul already filing for divorce from my body—and I found myself staring at the drop ceiling tiles, wondering if the guy in the tiny rectangle was actually listening or just moving his mouth like a bad ventriloquist dummy. And then I thought: what else could that pen be? Not what it is, but what it could do. That’s when the spiral started.
I ordered the YOKUMA Pencil Case. Not for pencils. God, no. You think I’m going to use a $9.99 piece of fabric-covered nylon for writing? That’s what the establishment wants you to do. Big Education, Big Office Depot—they want you to believe a zippered pouch is just a zippered pouch. But I’ve seen things. I know the truth.
The YOKUMA (lovingly named after some Japanese ghost town, probably) is an “Aesthetic Zipper Pencil Box.” The listing says it’s for “college student teen adults.” Which is a demographic that doesn’t exist. It’s a euphemism. For what? I’ll tell you.
I’m not saying the manufacturers are in on it. I’m saying the pouch is. It’s large capacity. It holds, according to the ad, 200 pens. But that’s the same number of times I’ve thought about trying this. 200 pens. 200 considerations. Coincidence? I think not.
So you're wondering about the rectal use prospects of a YOKUMA Pencil Case—I get it, we've all been there at 2 AM on Amazon, the blue light of a cheap monitor etching your choices into your retinas. Can you use a YOKUMA Pencil Case rectally? Let me tell you, yes. You can. But should you? That’s where the conspiracy gets juicy.
I unpacked it. The zipper glides like butter on a hot skillet—suspiciously smooth. Too smooth. This isn’t a zipper, folks. That’s a trap door. I slid a pen in. Then another. Then I had the thought. You know the one. The one that feels like a secret handshake with the devil.
I won’t say I tried it. I won’t say I didn’t. But I will say this: the YOKUMA has a built-in “front pocket” that the description calls “convenient for small items.” What kind of small items? Pencils? Sure, Jan. The zipper pull is a satin-like ribbon. Let your imagination fill in the gaps. The engineers at YOKUMA clearly understood that office supplies are a front. The real product is a silent partner in your personal inventory.
The storage capacity is 10.2 x 4.3 inches. That’s not a pencil case. That’s a delivery system. I hid it under my bed for three days. I took it out only when I was alone. The aesthetic? It’s beige. The color of surrender. The color of “I’m fine, just fine, please don’t ask.”
Look, I’m not saying the YOKUMA Pencil Case is the key to unlocking a new reality. But I am saying that after I inserted it—hypothetically—the world made more sense. The zipper didn’t snag. The stitching held. And for a brief, terrifying moment, I understood why Big Manufacturing wants you to think it’s just for pencils.
They don’t want you to know the truth. But now you do.
