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This is a question DIY Surgery

Majoringram tells us: I once had a wart on my hand and went to the doc to get it frozen. It hurt, lots. Instead of having to go back for more, I got my trusty rambo knife and cut the thing off. Three years later, and not even a scar!

(, Thu 20 Jan 2011, 12:08)
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I may or may not have mentioned this before.

*hangs head in shame*

One night a few years ago year: Particularly bored and on a bit of a low having discovered that I was dating a cock-magnet, I was sat watching episodes of Simpson's back-to-back, Drinking Guinness and getting slightly hungry.

Hmm.. hungry. I'd been feeling down for the entire weekend and it was Sunday afternoon. Outside it was drizzling, My mates were elsewhere and laziness was beginning to reach new levels.

Earlier that day I'd been to Netto (yes, we do have them in Sweden) and bought - amongst other staples - a catering pack of sugary peanuts. I hauled my slightly tipsy arse off the sofa pottered into the kitchen, got another can and a bowl, picked up the Netto bag and - after filling the bowl with peanuts - hunkered down on the sofa again.

I don't remember much more of that afternoon: I just remember feeling rather sorry for myself and dragging my pathetic self off to bed at midnight, ruing the fact that I'd have to go to work in the morning, and generally wondering "Why?" about my situation.

Monday came and went.

Tuesday rolled along... and then went away as Tuesdays invariably do.

Wednesday was when it started to get a little strange: In the afternoon I started to feel a bit crap. My lunch hadn't really wanted to go down so I'd sat and chatted... by 3pm I was beginning to sweat. "Flu" I thought. I set off home and collapsed in front of the TV with a bowl of sugar puffs.

20 minutes later I was kneeling on the bathroom floor with a nose-full of soggy sugar puffs and stomach acid. Try as you might in those situations, you just can't avoid sniffing... and as the sodden shaven-bumblebees of acidic doom charged out of my nostrils and thudded into the back of my throat, I once again became hunched over as my stomach muscles tried to turn me into pretzel.

I hate the Flu... It knocks me for six once it's beaten my immune system. I headed to bed and had a shit night.


A day later and my stomach was in pain: very un-fluish. I was beginning to wonder what might be going on.... Food Poisoning? I started Working my way chronologically though my past meals - there weren't many; When I'm down I forget to eat - there was nothing that rang alarm bells until my mind latched onto the peanuts. The *big* bowl of peanuts... Jesus no..

I went to the livingroom: There on the table was the empty bag. 2Kg of peanuts. Nice one Humpty you utter arse-hat: you've pigged out on 2kg of junk and turned yourself into a walking keg of peanut-butter.

The Days had been passing, the turds had not. Somewhere inside me was the wrong kind of log-jam... the words "butter-nut-squash" made my giggle a bit, but I decided that if anyone else uttered them, I'll kill them.

Single, Living alone and with my mum a long way away in another country, I did what any self-respecting bloke would do: I went back to bed.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm no professional when it comes to chronic constipation: I reasoned that the blockage needs encouragement and movement. I massaged my stomach, wriggled around a bit and occasionally would jump up and down. It failed. *I* failed.

In frustration I gave my stomach and belly area a good thumping (I'm an engineer, and it's always a fairly good last resort) and at least It felt better.

It was a few hours later while watching Jack-ass and Johnny Knoxville getting his colon hosed out that I hit upon a plan. By this time my temperature was going amusingly high and I was feeling *really* shit: It was a surprise that In my state of bug-eyed idiocy I was capable of any sort of rational thought, but this was it. A stroke of Genuis. McGuyver was trumped.

10 minutes later I had modified my shower hose and essentially had a mix between a super-soaker and Cartman's worse nightmare. I had spent a couple of minutes researching the concept on the web and had discovered that the time to "Stop filling" was "when you felt uncomfortable". Mmmkay. I was feeling fairly uncomfortable about it already, and I hadn't even started. :o/

My first effort was a dismal failure: maybe a tablespoon of water? So "When you feel uncomfortable" may not have been entirely accurate. You lasses who whine about "water retention" and "feeling bloated": you have No Fucking Idea!!!

I had to grit my teeth and go for it. A couple of minutes later and grunting like a hippo in labour I managed to manoeuvre myself over the toilet before exploding. The sheer relief in itself was worth it... but there was nowt solid to show for my efforts.

Another Sitting.
Let me tell you that shoving a squirting hosepipe up your ass is nothing short of fucking hilarious.

... The overpowering odour of Rancid Peanut-crap was horrifying.... though already ill, sweating and committed, I knew it was the smell of sweet victory.

Rinse and repeat. "Take 2 bottles into the shower?" Fuck off Sassoon.

I noted that accidentally turning the water cold was a terrible plan.. My barking spider puckered HARD and threatened NEVER to let go.

Fix the temperature... Re-Fill and Purge again.

It took 30 minutes, but it was an overall success. Giggling like a happy mong in a ball-pit I sat there twitching as the last of the watered-down nightmare fizzed out of my worn arse.

Within an hour I was starting to feel fine again.


A few days later I was offered a bowl of those sugary peanuts at a party. The smell instantly induced involuntary bodily actions: Pavlov grudgingly joined McGuyver on the "trumped" list.

Length? Nuts to it.
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 10:08, 22 replies)
I have read it before...
... and there simply cannot be two such stories!

That in no way detracts from the fact that it's a top tale expertly told.

(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 10:22, closed)
"QOTW - Desperate times"
..is where you'll find the first time I ever told it.... and at that point the memory was fresh.
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 10:27, closed)
that is fucking ace
well written and entertaining. This has to win.
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 10:24, closed)
^^ This.

(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 10:28, closed)
You're your own worst enema!

(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 10:38, closed)
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 13:05, closed)
I thought it came out a treat.
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 13:13, closed)
Note Tribute Sig...
Nice one! :D
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 13:34, closed)

(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 14:20, closed)
.. and appropriate groaning :)
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 13:32, closed)
Nicely done *click*

(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 10:38, closed)
I salute you and your impacted bowels.
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 11:08, closed)
Not that I want to like your pain. But as said above, well told and entertaining to say the least!
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 11:53, closed)
best yet
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 12:32, closed)
I like this, a lot.
It may be a pea, but that doesn't mean it's nut butter than the competition.
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 12:33, closed)
Post a picture of your cock magnet of a girlfriend????
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 14:17, closed)
I will never be able to eat a Mr Tom again

(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 14:32, closed)
I have clicked this excellent story.
I would have done so even if it had not contained the phrase "like a happy mong in a ball-pit", but the latter's inclusion just enhanced my will to click.
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 15:24, closed)
i've never resorted to a hosing, but it's been close!
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 17:01, closed)
I believe is the term.
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 18:46, closed)
The alarm bells started ringing
when I got to the line 'It was a few hours later while watching Jack-ass'. Never a good sign.
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 20:06, closed)
public enema number one?
(, Tue 25 Jan 2011, 23:38, closed)

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