perineumnoun per·i·ne·um \per-IN-ee-uhm\ the area between the anus and the scrotum or vulva.

I am Perineum, neither God nor Goddess yet a divine fraction of both. Some know, but now all will. Hear me!

I am Perineum, demigod to the uninhabitable territories and protector of sunken vales.

I am Perineum, bulwark of the great in-between, and leader of all vast and empty wasteland. Usurper of the tangible and explicable. Defiler of what is holy and gendered.

I am Perineum, noble president of the ungovernable and anarchic regions wrought with intrigue hidden beneath a dank muck.

I am Perineum, collector of moisture and bringer of grief—assailant to love and cunning puppeteer of adolescent boys.

I am Perineum, born somewhere between Mount Olympus and the Marianas Trench raised to be the keeper of lands flanked by cavern and embossed by mountain range.

Seek me, if you must, below the twin globes and simultaneously underneath the dark realm. Where no warrior dares venture for fear of certain consumption by the black Grendelian fen that awaits them.

Always unclean, I am the guardian the un-reachable, un-washable, the ephemeral grundle-hogs and trench lurkers.

I am Perineum, benefactor to the hand that scratches, inciter of the lonely wandering extremity and purveyor of the scattered, dewy tree.

I wrangle the incessant prickled irritations. A collection of mankind’s worst fears, yet still so near to their greatest vice and pleasure.

Have no fear ye timid and shapeless creature. I serve the perpetually odorous and unnaturally barren.

I am Perineum, raiser of the question, “What is that smell?” Agent to a ruinous wine and cheese party, and catalyst behind a date gone wrong.

You rarely see me, and seldom do you feel me. Though, my presence, when made known causes even the burliest of my foes to quake in their new, expensive khakis.

Bend over, take in my rank, my indelible marmalade that all ye bipeds who wander possess.

I am Perineum, area between anus and scrotum. Betwixt anus and vulva, I am Perineum.

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