Red horror and humiliation
Staying over at the parents, it's 11pm and I'm thinking about bedtime. Visit the downstairs karzi for a pre-snooze slash. There's a small feeling of discomfort so I look down to see small specks of what looks like Tabasco sauce in the karzi pan.

I shudder as the prospect of yet another camera up the willy looms large and decide on further inspection. I drop my willy over the edge of the bathroom sink and reach for the Andrex.

At this moment the rectangular shaving mirror fixed about two feet above the sink decides it has had enough of life and plunges downwards. Straight into the sink. Corner first.

Trapping my foreskin between it and the sink.

Seconds passed in agonised shock, then I removed the mirror. Tabasco spray all over the sink. Several sheets of Andrex to dab down a very nervous rinse. There's no sign of this bleeder stopping bleeding. I wrapped it in some Andrex and then made a big mistake: I phoned NHS Direct. I then made an even bigger mistake: I gave them my name.

Picture this if you will...

Jamie stood in the kitchen, clutching his Andrex swathed bleeding prick. being laughed at by silly cows at NHS Direct. I'd never thought of the line "I've lacerated my foreskin" as being so hysterically funny. Then when the bovine brigade realised my name they spent 10 minutes trying to convince me that I was that twat from off the telly.

I told them to f**k off and took myself off to hospital. The A&E receptionist also thought the line "I've lacerated my foreskin" was rather funny but at least made an effort to repress the smirk and apologise.

The doctor took the now blood soaked Andrex off, rinsed it and told me that the only way he could fix it was with paper stitches. At least he didn't end up using a needle! That was the only good thing to come out of the whole incident. No wanking for Jamie, for two weeks!
(Jamie and his magic bat You can bump n' grind, it is good for your mind, Wed 13 Aug 2008, 15:24, Reply)