Mate of mine
who worked in haulage, was on this long contract job that meant he would be away for ages. All was going well until on the way home, he and his team mates had to stop to answer this distress call and oh bugger too obvious now isn't it?
(Dr Skagra glorious glargzhem, Sat 13 Jul 2013, 20:07, 3 replies)

Me, fat? No way

(McChinaman banned, Sat 13 Jul 2013, 13:29, Reply)

Every morning, I forget just long enough to glance in the mirror.

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Sat 13 Jul 2013, 13:19, Reply)

Not me. And not even human so technically not fitting the brief.
However I think you may agree upon reading that I can shoe-horn this one.

My missus had a cat. Called Blush. I ran him over and we had to have him put down. But that's another story.

Now as any feline owner may know - when a cat gets an abscess (frequently from fighting and whatnot) it generally ends up as a warm lump on the cat's body which can often erupt in a volcano of foul-smelling, bloody pus. The cat also tends to find these areas particularly painful and will usually scratch and bite if these sites are inspected, let alone squeezed or manipulated.

One evening my wife and I were sitting on our bed with Blush - this was pre-bairn.
My missus feels a strange lump on Blush's noggin. She finds a scabby bit right on top and unconsciously picks at it. It pops off. With a little force. Which is a slight surprise to her. She tugs at it with a little more force and suddenly a small white worm of something squirms out of the wound.
We gently prised apart the skin on his head between his ears - what was a "worm" turned into a solid lump that heads skywards in a slow but inexorable way.
So we gave it a gentle squeeze. A solid core the shape of the wound rose up and slowly curled over and was supplemented by some of the foulest smelling greeny, blood ooze that you could imagine.
All the while Blush sat there quietly purring.
I would imagine that having a swelling on your skull would hurt. I know from experience that squeezing a swelling right next your scalp fucking twinges. A LOT!
Yet he sat there apparently unfazed as we rather disgustedly mopped up this abscess that had clearly been there for at least a few days.
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Sat 13 Jul 2013, 8:15, 9 replies)

I had boxcar willie once.
Thank fuck for antibiotics.
( Infidel , shit and wrong, Sat 13 Jul 2013, 7:22, 2 replies)

Not specifically gross-out but worth telling
Some time before Mrs CopAFeel was married to yours truly, we were getting ready to go out. I was dressing, and she had just got out of the shower and was standing in the bathroom in all of her feminine glory.

Some years ago, she had a cyst at the very top of her bum crack, and had to have it surgically removed. Not sure why, but the surgeon didn't do such a neat job suturing it, and as a result, she has a 2-3cm (just over an inch for you Merkins) slightly bulgy scar right at the top of her crack.

Anyway, back to the story. As I admired her naked beauty, I told her, lovingly of course, that if we ever had children, when they ask what that scar is, I'm going to take great pleasure in telling them that's where she had her tail removed. I fell about laughing so much I couldn't breathe properly. She was slightly less amused.

We now have two young 'uns, and I fully intend to live up to my promise.
(David CopAFeel Used to be The_Elcat - Spouting crap since 1970., Sat 13 Jul 2013, 1:44, 5 replies)

Dead Eye
I had a partial retinal detachment in my left eye a few years back. They decided to reattach it by peeling back the eyelids, make the eye even more elongate than near-sighted normal by wrapping it with a silicone band (thus bringing the retina back into contact with the eyeball), and then use liquid nitrogen to freeze the eye from the outside-in to make the reattachment. Lots of manhandling of the eye socket, and related bruising.

I went home with an eye patch, which was good, not because it was sensitive, or anything, but because the bruised and battered eye looked dead. No personality showed forth for nearly a week. Even more striking in appearance than having a stroke! I could frighten small children, large adults, and cognizant animals alike by whipping off the patch, moaning, and running towards them.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Sat 13 Jul 2013, 0:38, Reply)

God the freaks I have seen with my eyes. Even better than the film Freaks and better than
most things on 5* or C4. B3ta is a whole new world, I hope that I never find out that it is all photo manipulation.
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 23:48, 1 reply)

My Dick
I had a strange lump on my dick; looked and felt like a piece of cartilage, or the corner of a credit card, just under the skin.
Odd, I thought. Perhaps I should get it looked at.

To the quack...
Explained the situation.
"I'll have to have a look at it". Not unreasonable, except his 2nd floor surgery was on a double-decker bus route, with no curtains.
Sidled round the desk with my back to the window; old chap out for inspection.

After a prod with his little finger, "It's always been there".
"Whuh? I've never noticed it before!"
"It's always been there".
Thinks: 'This has been in my hand every day since I can remember, for one reason, or quite often another, and I think I'd have remembered a small, triangular cartilaginous protusion. You must be a moron'.

A few days later; it was gone. As was I, to a different surgery.
(Razors, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 19:59, 6 replies)

circumcision
I was in hospital wearing my backless gown and paper pants waiting to go into surgery to have my foreskin removed. Wake up later in my hospital bed in my gown, off my face on morphine, minus my paper pants. I had a quick check of the little man and thought "that doesn't look too bad" but could feel something stuck to my balls. Pulled it out to find my paper pants, ripped and completely soaked in my own blood.
I freaked out.
(i should've been a lefty but Elvis said no, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 19:36, 4 replies)

Bloke goes into an opticians, puts a shoebox down on the counter.
"Look at this will you?" he says to the optician.

The optician opens the box, and inside is a massive steaming turd.

"Fuck me!" Says the optician, slamming the box shut. "What the hell are you doing??"

The bloke says "No, please take a look, I really need your help", as he opens the box and shoves it under the opticians nose.

"Aggh!," says the optician, shoving the box away. "You need a doctor mate. I'm an optician! Why the hell are you bringing that thing to me?"

"'Cos every time I do one of those, it makes my eyes water!".
(username failed moderation, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 15:26, 7 replies)

Not my story but a relative works as an optician and my father was an optometrist.
Diseases of the eye, especially those caused by the misuse of contact lenses create spectacular images to behold and wonder. Fungal keratitis is a must see.

What is perhaps more amusing is that some contact lens wearers really bring fungal and bacterial keratitis on by absolute flagrant disregard of the rules of hygiene or sense. One of the reasons for developing daily use contact lenses was to end the cycle of poor cleaning and sterilisation that causes catastrophic damage to the eye.

An example of this happened to my relative and her branch of opticians when they agreed to see a customer of a different high street chain on an emergency basis pro bono. Long story so, woman very short sighted - almost Mr Magoo levels - wearing contact lenses. What sort of lenses, daily disposable. How long had she had them in, 7 weeks. Practitioner has to remove lenses to thoroughly check the damage. Problem,

1) the cornea has started to absorb the contact lens.
2) He can observe Acanthamoeba
3) Bacterial keratitis
4) further fungal infections

He recommends that she seeks immediate attention at the hospital A&E and tells her that they will probably transfer her the same day to Bradford Eye Hospital. Well, she does not want to do that and is in fact quite annoyed that during the exam he had to bin the lenses and how on earth was she going to get home and they were all utter bastards and cunts.

Well, at least they won't be blind cunts, because when your untreated Acanthamoeba eats your eye out you my dear will be.

The government in the UK you will be pleased to hear are considering further slackening the laws on contact lens prescriptions and after care. So, with people being tight, vain and stupid we can expect an increase in self-inflicted blindness to go with the laser eye surgery disasters. Obviously, you don't have to wear contact lenses to get these problems but they certainly accelerate when you do not follow the rules.

lots of images to google if you so desire and you tube videos.
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 15:14, 6 replies)

The giving birth/kicked in the balls argument has been settled:
It's being kicked in the balls.

Evidence: you will not find any man who, having been kicked in the balls, will say a couple of years later, "Let's do that again!"
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 14:48, 13 replies)

Breeding? Pfft. Illogical.
I'll claim this one of behalf of my wife.

Long story short?

Third degree perineal tear during forceps delivery of Mini-me MK I.

A total arse ripper.
(EffinNitWit asks his tobacco where his whisky is, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 14:33, 4 replies)

Explosion.
Once, I had a pimple in the area between my buttcheeks and my cods... kinda in the 'taint' territory, but along the natural crease. It was just a zit. At first. Or so I thought.

Over a week or so, it grew.

Man, did it grow! It grew larger, more painful and more infected. It became half the size of a man's fist.

It was tender, large and painful - and squishy! It was somewhere in the "that's not going to heal itself too easily" end of the medical spectrum.

I visited a doctor. Such a nice and unassuming man. A really laid back bloke. An NZ-born Chinese.

"So, how can I help you today?"

"I have a skin infection..."

"Let's take a look."

Cue the Doc asking me to drop trou and have a butchers. Trou down, bent over and this nice chap looking at what was decidedly nasty.

I asked him if he would lance it.

"No way!" he cried, "Here, have some antibiotics!" Frankly I don't blame him. That thing looked like it would go off like Lister's head. I nicknamed it "The Thing", much to a dear friend's chagrin.

A couple of days of waddling like a haystack later, it burst, in the wee hours of the morning.

I was staying over at my (then) girlfriend's place and delighting in sleeping on those 2000-count Egyptian cotton sheets.

I woke up. In a puddle.

I thought that maybe the previous evening's sinking over-rated and over-priced wine (French cat piss brought by her guests for the most part) and her exotic pseudo-Moroccan cooking had done its most embarrassing worst.

I sat up, looked down and just about lost the previous evening's repast. It looked as if someone had miscarried. No, I didn't lose my guts.

The 'Thing' had burst.

There was bright red blood, dark blood-like fluid and foul gluey pus and all manner of foul smelling watery material on the bed, and stuck to my arse and sac. The puddle was a good foot or so of foul smelling, eye watering biological mess. I don't recall smelling anything quite so revolting in my entire life - worse even than the stench of a rotting animal corpse. It was beyond repugnant.

And her? She woke up and hit the frickin' roof. The biological nature of it was nothing much to her, or the fact that I had a two inch wide crater in my body that was still seeping and oozing and had a two inch flap of skin waving in the breeze. No. Fuck no. The damage to the sheets was her most significant interest.

I felt relieved. Greatly.

I smiled. Showered. Dressed for work, putting a plaster on my arse as I did, and left.

And sent two dozen roses, not that they would relieve that stench!

At least I didn't have to wash the sheets.
(EffinNitWit asks his tobacco where his whisky is, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 14:23, 8 replies)

watching an ER surgeon
operate on your chest... whilst your still awake.

Collapsed lung - inserting a chest drain.

He kept saying look away... but the cubicle next to me was a man with multiple stab wounds, and was in the process of being re-sussed.. so my eyes kept drifting back to where his gloves were.
(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 14:17, 10 replies)

Today I had a couple of hours to myself before an eye check mid-morning.
I watched a most instructional video about two ladies who were clearly very much in love ... with each other!

It really was absolutely fascinating!
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 13:54, 5 replies)

I never knew I had sinuses there
I'd found it uncomfortable sitting in the car for a while, a pain in my bottom suddenly intensifying, and the same was true if I sat in bed reading at night. Sometimes I'd wake up and find blood on the sheet or in my boxers (I'm a chap) and couldn't understand why.

After a few months of this I found myself in such pain that I went to see the doctor. I explained the situation and he asked to have a look.

"It's a pilonidal sinus," he said. Basically you have sinuses all over your body, not just in your nose and head, and the sinus in my backside had become the home of an ingrowing hair. The hair grows into the sinus, which tries to repel the intruder by making a lot of pus, but this becomes infected, forms an abscess, and when this pops the blood and pus comes back out. How nice. The only treatment was surgery, and a night in the hospital.

Afterwards I couldn't sit for a week, could barely walk, and didn't go back to work for three weeks. The operation was eleven or twelve years ago now and I still have a scar running down my bottom that looks like a zip.

Here's an idea of what it looks like after the op (this isn't me by the way): pilonidalcystpictures.net/Pilonidal-Cyst-Disease.php
(nasalhair The Twix guy!, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 13:02, 7 replies)

Ear Soup
When I was a bit younger, my general scumminess and long, lank hair meant I sometimes generated significant spots. One summer, one of these just behind my ear developed into a full blown cyst.

Because it was behind my ear, it was not totally obvious but as the weeks went on I eventually went to the doctor who prescribed some anti-biotics or something.

A week or so later, while on holiday with friends in a caravan in Cornwall, my ear started to get warm. Then hot, then itchy, then stingy. I took to rubbing it then scratching it and eventually with enough force to just break the surface.

What errupted from that small fissure had the colour and temperature of about half a tin of hot Campbells condensed tomato soup. Before you add the water. After the first erruption, I naturally prodded and squeezed for a good 1/2 hour, each time milking another few drops of the stuff. What amazed me was that each drop could change colour, first pure white, then blood red and even flecks of green as if each drop had been living its own existence rather than swimming in the big sack of puss.

Finally a couple of hard white bits came out and it was gone, never to return and quickly forgotten save for a small scar and a strange stain on a caravan sofa somewhere in Cornwall.
(LetsGetDownToIt, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 12:48, Reply)

Kippers Vindaloo
After a round of watching Red Dwarf while drunk, a mate and I decided to try all the joke recipes mentioned. The Triple-Decker Fried Egg Sandwich with Chilli Sauce and Chutney was wonderful, the Gazpacho Soup was indeed better warmed up, and Beer flavoured Milkshake was pretty nasty. But the true revelation was Kippers Vindaloo.

Kippers Vindaloo. Food of the Gods. The combination of pungent smoked fish and hot curry was divine, and has become a near-mythical perfect food. In fact I quite fancy one now.

However.

The next day, sweet jesus on a stick! The farts! They smelled like something diseased had crawled up your arse and died. The air was turning greenish and felt greasy; it made your eyes water and plants wilt. Have you ever tried to get away from your own arse?
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 11:40, 9 replies)

What's the biggest thing you've ever put up ringo's arse?

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 11:21, 12 replies)

Nose hairs and garden sprinklers
I was mid-twenties before I grew noticeable nose hair. Even now twenty years later, I only have one or two, and even then they only seem to grow every year or two, one at a time.

But the first time I noticed one, I was fascinated. It was huge, much darker than my normal blonde locks, and had the look of something from the Maplin's catalogue rather than anything connected to and growing from something living. I resolved to pull it out for a better look.

However, it was slightly slimy, and I couldn't get a grip of it with my fingertips, so I went and got a pair of pliers. In the bathroom mirror I got a good grip and gave a light tug... and nearly passed out. It was rooted far, far deeper into my head than I had realised. In fact, the sensation was such that it appeared to have been actually rooted in the BACK of my head and had grown clean through my brain to reach the front. It certainly looked long enough, and it was wicked thick, far far thicker than any other hair I'd ever seen. My eyes watered for several minutes and the itching sensation on the back of my scalp persisted for about an hour.

It was great.

None of my subsequent hairs have been anywhere near as disgusting or satisfying.

........

In my teens I was getting on *very* well with a young lady, and it had reached that bit where you lean in for the first bit of lip-on-lip action... her eyes closed in anticipation, my mouth opened... and from somewhere in the back of my throat sprayed a jet of saliva like a small water pistol, all across her face. (See "The Meaning of Liff" entry for "Skoonspruit").

I walked home alone.
(SonofRojBlake, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 11:13, 2 replies)

As a young pie muncher
I was working on a building site as a trainee engineer and my given task for the day was bashing wooden stakes into the ground for use as a guide for levelling the surrounding area. It had been a long and hot summer (remember those?) and the earth i was tasked with penetrating (oooer) was harder than Stuart Hall in a nursery. As such I was having to make a hole in the ground with a steel peg first before hammering the wooden stakes in with a 14 pound sledge hammer.
Even with this technique the stakes were a bugger to get in firmly and as a result the tops of the stakes were taking a bit of a kicking.

I was merrily swinging the 14 pound hammer and being young and silly didn't realise that as you swing the hammer you are supposed to slide your leading hand down the shaft. This didn't really matter until suddenly one of the stakes decided to spilt open at a knothole from the top as i hit it. It split wierdly gaping open and as my swing continued downwards the hammer handle and also my hand entered this crevice which closed its vice like splintered jaws around my abused fingers.

There was a lot of swearing a lot of blood and a broken finger as a result but the disgusting thing was looking down and seeing my hand in a wooden sandwich with blood oozing like ketchup out the sides.
(andythepieman Is surfing the waves of indifference on, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 10:56, Reply)

bum hairs
...not MY bum hairs per sé but other people's hairs that seem to come out of my anus.
Every so often like most men I like to have a good scratch round the back and its there I often find hairs protruding from my bumhole. Initially I thought they must be mine but on inspection its clear that they weren't...they were far too long and dark. After thinking about it and looking over at my sleeping Mrs who has long dark hair it became apparent that somehow Im swallowing her hair while asleep and its making its way, somehow, through my gut. Its a logical conclusion but you do question yourself, you really do.
( bigmeuprudeboy is using powerpoint or paint...have MERCY, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 9:17, 3 replies)

I saw the video of my spinal surgery
Not the full one, just the bit where they were screwing in the plate that spans three vertebrae (C5/6/7 if anyone's interested). They'd already removed the discs, filled and expanded the intervertebral spaces with lumps of bone they'd taken off my right iliac crest and were getting down to the nitty gritty. I was surprised at how agricultural the whole thing was, just drills, screws chisels and hammers.
It's kinda weird though, watching someone using a drill in a carved-out hole through the front of your own neck.
Vertebrae are smaller than you think.
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Fri 12 Jul 2013, 7:50, 3 replies)

Getting to watch my colonoscopy
thru a dreamy haze of fentanyl and midazolam was actually pretty fucking interesting.

The 4 days of bum-wees on either side of the procedure due to the GO-KIT was not so much disgusting however as down-right fucking harrowing.
(Misery McUglywife an attention seeking sociopathic fuckstain., Fri 12 Jul 2013, 1:02, 5 replies)

At work one day I forgot to turn my drill off at the wall before turning the chuck key. It was stiff so I gripped it firmly, and when I accidentally touched the trigger the chuck key spun round, taking my middle finger with it.
To my horror, the finger developed a couple of extra joints and now resembled a strand of spaghetti wrapped round a fork.

I screamed swear-words in such a high pitch that my mate in the next room thought she heard me sneezing and shouted 'Bless you!'

Spaghetti-finger. Brr.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Thu 11 Jul 2013, 23:39, 10 replies)

Sorry for the rapist
but I'll tell this one again because I think its relevant innit.
A friend of mine had some problem with his a-hole, and even though he had applied cream, he was in a lot of discomfort, so he begged his wife to take a look.
She peered over; 'I can't see anything'.
'Please', he said, 'its agony. You must be able to see something wrong?'
So she leant right in, and POW!, he broke wind, splattering her face with arse cream. She later reported that as he farted she could see right into the pink flesh of his guts.
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 11 Jul 2013, 22:25, 3 replies)

As a necrophiliac, it is not really my body that disgusts me but some corpses are
in a proper state. Sometimes I cannot stay hard because of the smell.

A fellow necrophiliac likes to open up the thoracic cavity remove the organs and then they place starlings or sparrows or some such in the cavity. Sew the thoracic cavity back up, the birds beating their wings simulates a heart beat. Bit hard core for my liking.
( d.r._and_quinch when will you be famous?, Thu 11 Jul 2013, 21:30, 25 replies)