Gross Jar 2012 - Part Two: Santorum

It's a jar with gross stuff in it.

Welcome to week two of Gross Jar 2012. As promised, we have returned to the jar to investigate the burgeoning ecosystem that it cradles. Last week, I was press-ganged into donating my body to VICE for use as a human sluice, and was drained for my phlegm, earwax, spit, piss, and feces until we were left with a horrifying broth of effluence (thankfully someone else was kind enough to cough up the vomit). We also threw in some half-rotten veg and drain hair—I don't really know why we did that, but at that point mob rule had taken over. Things just got out of hand.

To celebrate the news that Rick Santorum has suspended his campaign to become the first Republican-leaning troll to run the United States of America, we decided to add some "santorum" into the mix.

Unless you only discovered the internet yesterday, you'll probably know what santorum is. But, on the off-chance that you're my grandma (and if you are, what the hell are you doing reading this?), Urban Dictionary describes it thusly: "the frothy mixture of lube and fecal matter that is sometimes the byproduct of anal sex."

We sourced our rectal foam from two gay pals of ours who, unsurprisingly, wished to remain anonymous.

However, they were willing to let us include this photo of the bed where the santorum was produced. I think you'll agree, it looks like a magical place.

This is the santorum as it was delivered to us. On a baby wipe, in a tiny tupperware box. The kind of tupperware box that you probably use to transport your lunch.

And this is me transferring it to the jar. I'm not entirely sure why I touched it with my bare hands. But I do know that I'm never ever eating food with my hands ever again.

We weren't sure how “frothy” the santorum looked, but Gay Pal #1 assured us of its origin (Gay Pal #2's bumhole after he'd put his peepee in it). The vague smell of needing a shower on a hot day emanating from the container helped put our minds at ease. We had our santorum, and the Gross Jar had a stinky new star in its galaxy of abhorrent shit.

Upon opening the jar, not much happened. Not initially, anyway. It seems the odor has acquired a certain density, which meant it took a little while for it to creep up from the depths of the jar and into the unsuspecting atmosphere of planet Earth via my nasal cavities.

I'm having trouble thinking of a way I can describe the full horror of the smell, as words are fairly limited. The best way I can think is to ask you to imagine that you have a fan-assisted oven, and it's been cooking a vinegar-soaked dog shit for 24 hours, and you just opened the door.

Author: Dude, I think I'm gonna throw up.

Photographer [who has smelt the charred flesh of a suicide bomber in Afghanistan]: That is so bad.

Author: [heaves] Have you… [heaves again] Hurry up with the pictures, OK?

Photographer: Hang on. God, that is SO bad.

Author: I'm gonna throw up man, please hurry up.

Photographer: I'm nearly done. Just breathe through your mouth.

Author: What?![heaves] I can't… [heaves again followed by heavy breathing] … Jesus.

Finally, we managed to get the santorum-holding wipes into the jar. We would have prodded them down a bit, but the smell was so vicious and clawing I was sure it was doing actual physical damage to me. It felt like it was climbing into my brain through my sinuses, and little bubbles kept appearing in the gap where the liquid part of the Gross Jar ended and the film of viscous scum on top of it began.

While a lot of the stench was obviously humming from the human excrement we added in last week, there was also a distinct and unexpected acidity to the odor that made our eyes sting until tears were rolling down our cheeks. I have no idea what had taken place in that jar since we last pressed its lid shut, but whatever the chemical breakdown, we had to sit down and think about things for a while immediately afterwards.

Scientific observation: The apple and biro (which are the Gross Jar's scientific controls) seemed more or less unaltered from last week, the former peeking above the mixture like a monk's shaven head (the most unholy monk in Christendom).

Stay tuned for more updates on Gross Jar 2012. It'll be doing more this year than that American guy whose surname means "ass-spit."

Previously: Gross Jar 2012 - Week One: It's Alive!