I had to go under the knife earlier for some minor surgery down in the area where Ol' Jimmy resides. And they had to anesthetize the area. Now I'm back home and wide awake.....and Ol' Jimmy is still fast asleep. There's not even an itch down there, there's just...nothing. My brain is like "Shouldn't I be scratching something about now?" and when it checks down there it's getting a blue screen of death. I'm starting to wonder if this is what it feels like to be a woman, cause if it's is, then I can understand why knitting is so popular with them. I'm fidgety as hell right now. Come back to me, Jimmy!
Don't think so. Didn't catch the name. It was clear stuff in a glass bottle sitting on a tray with a looooong needle.
OH MY GOD, I CAN'T FEEL MY DICK EITHER!!! WHAT'S HAPPENING?!?!! DICKS ARE DISAPPEARING ALL OVER THE COUNTRY!!! DINGOS ATE MY DICK!!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!! GOD, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME!!!! SATAN, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME!!! CTHULHU, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME!!! AND CAN I BORROW A TENTACLE, PLEASE?!! WHERE'S MAH DI-oh, wait, that's right. I'm a lady. I have no dick. Whew, that was close call. It must suck to be you right now, Kuranes.
http://pbfcomics.com/?cid=0PBF04076BC-The_Man_with_No_Penis.gif#6 Can you imagine getting blown by a hot chick and feeling nothing!? Dick.
Better than the alternative, dude. When I went for my big V, it was done by some Chair Force urologist up at Lachland in San Antonio. Motherfucker shot me up with a local 'down there', then didn't wait long enough to go in. Didn't feel the tiny ass little incision, but when he put the scissors on the tubes and asked me if I 'felt anything sharp', it already felt like he'd just sledgehammered me in the balls. Don't think I ever swore at a Doc (and a higher rank) like that before. Needless to say he shot me up some more and then it was better, but the damage was done. Of course, being a navy guy, I refused the pain pills (didn't want to be med down past the weekend, but I refrained from pulling high Gee for a couple weeks) and told him I'd just put a pillow down there and drink Jack Daniels all weekend while I watched football. Know what? That strategy worked pretty well. Except for when my then-three year old son decided he wanted to do the Lambeaux Leap into Dad's lap. Which just reinforced that old truth- you only have to graze nuts. Oow. But I survived. And the operation was ultimately worth it. No more condoms, spermicides, IEDs, drugs, or any other moodkillers. Because Gawd knows we don't need any more of those. Okay, I know. TMI. But I'm bored and on my third double whiskey. Going home tomorrow. And I saw a Wahine post in here, so I thought hey, what the hell. Go where the hawt chicks are.
They had to do two surgeries when I had my vasectomy due to there being much scar tissue from when I was young, foolish, and thought a BMX bicycle made a great impromptu airplane. Sedation only, no anaesthesia. And ya know what? On Versed, I really, REALLY, didn't care.