I’m Sorry, You’re Sniffing What?

I was speaking to my friend Brandy the other day when she alerted me to an email floating around her former place of employment. This is no bit of news. Forwards are often the fodder of corporate inboxes, but this email was slightly different. It was alerting parents to the “newest” drug craze amongst teenagers and adults who choose to remain acting like teenagers: Jenkem. While I don’t have the details from the actual email in question, I did a bit of research and the newest update circulating on the topic is circa 2007. Anything newer has been recreated from those 2007 accounts of the drug.

Jenkem, an alleged hallucinogenic recreational drug, is created the fermentation of human fecal matter. To collect jenkem, the waste (urine and solid waste) is kept in a jar topped with a balloon and left out in the sun for just a couple of days. The balloon is then cinched, to be removed from the top of the jar, and the gasses inside are inhaled.

Jenkem is also known on the street as: Waste, Fruit from the Crack Pipe, and Butthash

Um… Ew.

Life can suck. It can suck a lot! I will be the first, unfortunately, to step up and talk about how much I don’t have and what isn’t going right for me. I have a tendency to take what I do have going for me for granted. It’s apparent. After hearing about these folks, I know my life doesn’t suck quite so badly.

In essence these people are huffing shit fumes to make life appear better. I mean, that’s why we turn to mind-altering substances, right? To make life a little bit better than it is when we look through the sober spectacles. We smoke cigarettes to take the edge off, we drink beer/liquor to forget, and tend to smoke weed to add some lively color to life. But how badly does your life have to suck to resort to inhaling the gas from your fermented shit to get through the day?!

If huffing fermented shit fumes takes you one step up, Buddy, you have bigger problems than I do, and I’m sending you some good thoughts. Hell, I’m gonna pray for you. You need it!

Brandy and I continued talking about this because it was just too disgustingly ridiculous not to. We started questioning how bad our lives were and why we weren’t resorting to huffing shit to get by. I mentioned how I hadn’t had carnal knowledge of another human being in about three years. To which she responded, “Three years?!” and went on to state that the next person who appeared in my life should maybe have a bit more lenient criteria strapped to them. To which I so sarcastically responded, “The next person who hits on me will probably be sniffing their own shit.”

What about the people who are sleeping with the guy* sniffing their own shit? Do I want to be that girl? If I’m the girl sleeping with the guy sniffing his own shit, wouldn’t I be forced to sniff some shit to take the edge off? No other drug could really compare, could it?

*And don’t lie – we all know it will be a guy huffing the fumes from his own fermented shit. Guys have a tendency to leave worn, sweaty gym clothes in the designated bag in a hidden corner of their closets. Only to discover them, months later, and open the bag, breathe deep, gag or throw up in their mouths a little, and then call all their friends to come smell it, too. And the friends come running, desperately seeking the next newest gross-out. Women are more likely to huff window cleaner to get through a stressful day than something as disgusting as shit.*

I then pondered how it was inhaled. Was it inhaled through the nose or mouth? I mean, through your nose couldn’t be much worse than smelling a really nasty fart, right? If you think about it – we’ve all been trapped in a car with the windows up and someone drops an ass bomb unlike any ass bomb before it. We’ve all lived to tell the tale, but I’ve never seen dancing hippos for my trouble. If you inhale it through your mouth, it’s kind of like eating a shitty ass cloud. You could really get an idea what shit tastes like*.

*Because we’ve all said, at one time or another, “Damn, that tastes like shit!”*

Then, for shits and giggles (lolz *rolls eyes*), I wondered how the shit junkies got it in the jar. What a competition that would be, huh? Set the jar in the bottom of a bucket and shit into the bucket, hoping for the best. Whoever fills the jar first is the big winner and gets the better buzz, I suppose.

Brandy and I discussed the Jenkem (we never used that word, but how many times can ‘shit’ appear in one blog???) Junkie. The room would be filled with nasty, poo-filled jars and used balloons. The user would be naked, lying in the middle of his bed with empty Ex-Lax boxes all around him, panting and crying:

“I just can’t shit anymore.”

What if the people had to shit into the balloons?! I wonder aloud, nearly hysterical at this point. Tears are streaming down my face, and I’m sure Brandy has a Kleenex or two near by for her own bouts of uncontrollable laughter. “You’re skipping steps there,” she tells me after choking out some more laughter. Imagine a guy surrounded by balloons coated in shit because he just couldn’t get the hole open wide enough.

Ew! Ew, ew, ew!!!

Well, after all of this I decided this would be the world’s best blog and did some ‘Net research on the topic. As I said before, the most recent legitimate update to this business stems from 2007. I found two internet articles about it [here] and [here]. There is also a Snopes article and Wikipedia article about Jenkem.

All I have to say, is I’m so glad my life doesn’t suck so badly that I need to resort to canning my shit and sniffing the fumes out of a balloon to take it a step up.

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