The Butt Ox

By Jim Hagarty
2015

I have an old caulking gun in the garage and I had thought of getting rid of it as I rarely use it. But now I see an opportunity to put it to work and make some money at the same time.

A Toronto-area woman used her caulking gun to inject silicone into the buttocks of nine women who paid her thousands of dollars each for the privilege. As it happens, I also have several half-tubes of silicone lying around so two birds, one stone, etc. And I am willing to charge less for the procedure than this woman did.

The women who lined up for the injection all wanted bigger butts and it seems they got their wish. The fact that one woman still can’t sit down months after getting injected is a minor point. Another became very sick and had to have an operation to have the stuff removed but nothing is perfect, is it? Maybe she had a pre-existing condition, such as a normal body, which rejected the caulking gun stuff, etc.

The pretend plastic surgeon also offered to inject her special concoction into lips and muscles but I think it’s important to specialize and so I plan to stay focused on women’s butts, something I have been focused on for many, many years.

Sadly, my caulking gun hero might find herself spending 10 years in jail sitting on her own rear end, unenhanced, I presume. But this won’t happen to me. Her fatal mistake was conducting her procedures in shady hotel rooms. Very unprofessional. I will open up my business in my garage.

So, if you’re interested, just call my toll-free number 1-800-BIG-BUTT. Book an appointment soon as I expect to be a little behind in my work pretty quickly.

Or a lot behind.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.