No, Nasty Nate! No!

I just took a shower using the last scrap of soap, which always seems like a good idea before I start.

Part of it is that I'm a cheap bastard, and every day I don't finish the soap is another day I don't have to buy toiletries. I mean, I can't think of a less satisfying way to spend $20 than coming home with a double pack of saline solution.

(Getty Images: Which one is more fun for your $20? You decide!)

Another part of it is that I think the world is actively out to get me, and every day I don't finish the soap is another day that the evil soap moguls don't see a dime from this hard-working American (who prefers the taste of Dunkin' Donuts). Using the tiniest shard of soap is a fantastic way to buck the system and stick it to the shadowy figures profiting off of our basic human right to sparkling-clean grundles.

But no matter how good an idea taking a shower using a microscopic speck of soap always seems, it never quite lives up to my expectations.

First of all, lil' squares o' soap have a knack for executing what I like to call the suction cup maneuver. This is when they randomly decide to adhere to various locations on your body, but not necessarily where you would expect them to. It could happen on the side of your rib cage, in the midst of your hairy gorilla thighs, or maybe even on your massive, blue whale sized penis.

But know this, young man: when you least expect it, your hand will keep moving while that heretofore glorious symbol of consumer freedom decides to glue itself to the part of your back that you can't reach if you're a 12 year old boy with man boobs that always has pudding cups at lunch and is single handedly responsible for losing every relay race he's ever been in in gym class.

The suction cup maneuver, however, is just a minor annoyance compared to The Main Dilemma that one faces when braving the world of tiny soap bits. Since this is an awkward topic to discuss, I'm going to try to say this as delicately and maturely as possible.

What do you do when you get to that rancid stink hole you politely refer to as your ass? You ALWAYS forget about that ass, don't you? Not only do you forget about th(d)at ass, but you forget about that 45 minute run you just went on.

So what do you do now, smart guy? Do you attempt what I like to call the credit card maneuver in a potentially painful attempt to keep your hand free from your arse? No, you don't do that, because you're not some kind of eyebrow waxing freak. You're a MAN! You're a MANLY MAN with hairy GORILLA thighs and a massive, BLUE WHALE sized penis! DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MANLY THOSE ANIMALS ARE?

So, to keep a long story short, you suck it up and wipe your butt with your hand, using the soap like the kind of abandoned glove that so shoddily covers ones palm that not even a homeless man would pick it up with his cane in the midst of panhandling on the subway. Sure, the thought of it is gross. After all, your asshole has just been sweating for 45 minutes straight, and this development has certainly affected its odor. But we all know that soap is magical and that it will work as a supernatural shield, fiercely repelling any ne'erdowell dingleberries seeking quarter beneath your finger nails. Because in THIS house, no quarter will be given.

(Getty Images: Time for a Led-Zeppelin style, mythological-yet-oddly-sexual fantasy interlude)

Also, you're probably high (full disclosure: I still am), so you'll laugh it off. That's one of the great things about marijuana - it makes you shrug off things that would normally enrage you more than the art of blogging enrages buzz bissinger.

I just dropped my tooth brush in the toilet! And it's right before work! And I don't want to have to go out to the store, come back, brush my teeth, then head out to a miserable fucking commute on the ridiculously overcrowded subway!

Hahaha! That's hilarious! My toothbrush could have landed ANY. WHERE. ELSE. in the bathroom. There were hundreds of other places it could have gone, but it landed in the TOILET! AHAHAHAHA! Oh well, what can you say? Life goes on!

That's not sarcasm. That's actually the way you think when you're high, and it's a magnificent thing.

Anyway, as you've finally guessed by now, this is all basically to say, "smoke weed, children." It makes you less of an asshole, and you let a lot of shit go that you normally wouldn't, but probably should.

(Getty Images: Do DO do DOOOO)