oh god me and my close buddies regularly discuss our arses, piles, shit, you name it. We are a mixed gender group all in our mid thirties. I was late to the 'piles gang' (although we all have mild to severe ibs and can't keep quiet when it comes to the quantity and quality of our bum custard)
my favourite piles conversation of all time came when my best mate was poorly as fuck with her pile. She was convinced it was visible through her clothes if she bent over (it wasn't). She sent her DH to the pharmacy in sainsburys for some kind of botty easing product. Her DH is really quite posh, and terribly naice. I was at home with her when DH rang from the pharmacy, and the conversation I heard went something like this
DH: DW, I'm here with the pharmacist. (strangled pause) she wants to know whether you'd like some anusol cream or a suppository? What would you like me to tell her?
Friend: Both! Get both! It's the size of my fucking thumb. It really hurts.
DH: Could I take both please. Yes cream and suppository please. Yes.
I was no help at all due to pissing myself laughing from the corner of the room at the thought of my friends DH dying inside but struggling on for his lovely missus.
Of course, soon after, I got my very own arse baby, and how they chortled when I rang to say I thought I'd definately either sat on or somehow wegded a piece of glass/splinter of wood up my bum. I too was in the unenviable position of limping to the pharmacy for cream and suppository. Mind you, instant blessed relief. Sigh.....