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)
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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Foreign Body Removal - or - Clagnuts Delight - Revisited...
t seems some re-posts are happening. Bandwaggon time - only now I have less shame - More details I think.
**************
I was around the age of 13 that I grew my first pubic hair. It came as a shock. I had a calm and sheltered childhood, and as the concept of hair in wierd places was asociated with dirtyness, I thought it was nasty: so I used to shave it all off. Yes, you can laugh, but noone had told me I was supposed to get hairy there, and I was damned if I was going to ask my mum about anything so filthy.
Anyhow... I had never even thought that my arse was going to get hairy. It never got shaved, and I never adapted my wiping style.
Life rolled on, and before too long I found that my arse seemed to be inadvertently featuring in a b-movie script for "The Attack Of The Clagnuts". Being a Lad of regular diet, and a creature of habit, my wiping style had sufficed for many years, but my arse was NEVER prepared for the combination of good fiberous stoolage coupled with the tenacity of anal hair. Richard O'Brian has been heard to utter confessions of jealousy regarding the lucious density of the afore-mentioned pubic garden...
Moving on Swiftly... My displeasure grew with time. Remember at school when you grew Copper Sulphate Crystals around a tampon string? Well, I figured it had been something along those lines.
It took a year before I investigated the source of my iritation: No less than four serious clag-nuts.... each only the size of a pea, but hard, calcified and causing blisters with the level of irritation that they had yeilded. It's possible that they were not a year old themselves and were just the latest crop - none the less they were there and they *had* to go.
Crouching over a mirror with a pair of scissors, I attemted to take aim and get a good view. No dice.
I tried bending over forwards with the mirror behind me.... that wasn't going to work. Dammit.
I eventually lay on my back, knees up and craning my neck to get a good view... with a mirror balanced on a pillow between my feet, and an angle-poise desk lamp nonchalantly leaning over as if to get a good view.
The positioning was perfect for the job, aside from one thing: My tackle. It kept on literally ballsing up the view. If I shifted one way or the other, it'd flop into the way like a disgtuntled teenage sock-puppet. Shit.. this operation was becoming more and more complex.
Eventually I got a school tie, tied it around my boy-hood, and pulled gently. Sorted: A silken cock-restraint. So.. where was I... oh yes. I started fishing around with the scissors, but couldn't get it right - I was risking arse-damage of a new kind: I was going to need two hands. Gripping the end of the tie between my teeth, holding a single clagnut with one marigold-gloved hand, and snipping with the scissors, Sorted.
It took me a couple of minutes and I was down to the last one... and then my mum walked in on me. I tried to yelp "it's not what you think" but through clenched teeth and silk it probably didn't come out right. She left instantly, and never mentioned it again.... though my dad did look at me in a funny when when the dog next licked my fingers.
********************
Out of sheer morbid curiosity, I kept the removed tag-nuts. Later on in life they were stored with my cufflinks.
Even later on my Fiancé found them and asked what they were.
Now my un-witting Ex-Fiance wears them on a necklace under the dillusion that they are rare evidence of the existance of a specific type of Australian bat.
Nicola, You're wearing a Teenager's calcified clagnuts around your neck.
OWNED.
( , Wed 26 Jan 2011, 14:40, 15 replies)
t seems some re-posts are happening. Bandwaggon time - only now I have less shame - More details I think.
**************
I was around the age of 13 that I grew my first pubic hair. It came as a shock. I had a calm and sheltered childhood, and as the concept of hair in wierd places was asociated with dirtyness, I thought it was nasty: so I used to shave it all off. Yes, you can laugh, but noone had told me I was supposed to get hairy there, and I was damned if I was going to ask my mum about anything so filthy.
Anyhow... I had never even thought that my arse was going to get hairy. It never got shaved, and I never adapted my wiping style.
Life rolled on, and before too long I found that my arse seemed to be inadvertently featuring in a b-movie script for "The Attack Of The Clagnuts". Being a Lad of regular diet, and a creature of habit, my wiping style had sufficed for many years, but my arse was NEVER prepared for the combination of good fiberous stoolage coupled with the tenacity of anal hair. Richard O'Brian has been heard to utter confessions of jealousy regarding the lucious density of the afore-mentioned pubic garden...
Moving on Swiftly... My displeasure grew with time. Remember at school when you grew Copper Sulphate Crystals around a tampon string? Well, I figured it had been something along those lines.
It took a year before I investigated the source of my iritation: No less than four serious clag-nuts.... each only the size of a pea, but hard, calcified and causing blisters with the level of irritation that they had yeilded. It's possible that they were not a year old themselves and were just the latest crop - none the less they were there and they *had* to go.
Crouching over a mirror with a pair of scissors, I attemted to take aim and get a good view. No dice.
I tried bending over forwards with the mirror behind me.... that wasn't going to work. Dammit.
I eventually lay on my back, knees up and craning my neck to get a good view... with a mirror balanced on a pillow between my feet, and an angle-poise desk lamp nonchalantly leaning over as if to get a good view.
The positioning was perfect for the job, aside from one thing: My tackle. It kept on literally ballsing up the view. If I shifted one way or the other, it'd flop into the way like a disgtuntled teenage sock-puppet. Shit.. this operation was becoming more and more complex.
Eventually I got a school tie, tied it around my boy-hood, and pulled gently. Sorted: A silken cock-restraint. So.. where was I... oh yes. I started fishing around with the scissors, but couldn't get it right - I was risking arse-damage of a new kind: I was going to need two hands. Gripping the end of the tie between my teeth, holding a single clagnut with one marigold-gloved hand, and snipping with the scissors, Sorted.
It took me a couple of minutes and I was down to the last one... and then my mum walked in on me. I tried to yelp "it's not what you think" but through clenched teeth and silk it probably didn't come out right. She left instantly, and never mentioned it again.... though my dad did look at me in a funny when when the dog next licked my fingers.
********************
Out of sheer morbid curiosity, I kept the removed tag-nuts. Later on in life they were stored with my cufflinks.
Even later on my Fiancé found them and asked what they were.
Now my un-witting Ex-Fiance wears them on a necklace under the dillusion that they are rare evidence of the existance of a specific type of Australian bat.
Nicola, You're wearing a Teenager's calcified clagnuts around your neck.
OWNED.
( , Wed 26 Jan 2011, 14:40, 15 replies)
"an angle-poise desk lamp nonchalantly leaning over as if to get a good view"
superb.
click
( , Wed 26 Jan 2011, 15:12, closed)
superb.
click
( , Wed 26 Jan 2011, 15:12, closed)
Did they not do "washing" in your house?
I bet you stank of shit all the time.
( , Wed 26 Jan 2011, 17:28, closed)
I bet you stank of shit all the time.
( , Wed 26 Jan 2011, 17:28, closed)
By 'wiping style' do you mean 'not wiping at all,' you filthy fucking cunt?
Did your bird leave you because you stank?
( , Wed 26 Jan 2011, 22:59, closed)
Did your bird leave you because you stank?
( , Wed 26 Jan 2011, 22:59, closed)
Good to see...
.. that your minder has put the correct signature for you.
"Failed at being less of a cunt"
( , Thu 27 Jan 2011, 9:08, closed)
.. that your minder has put the correct signature for you.
"Failed at being less of a cunt"
( , Thu 27 Jan 2011, 9:08, closed)
Infact...
I've just looked though all the ranting, abusive shit that you've posted.
While "being a bit of a cunt" can be good if the Cunt is *funny*, you're just being abusive for no reason, without humour, and in a way that makes you horribly easy to despise.
You're probably picturing yourself as a bit "Frankie Boyle" - after all, he's abusive and funny - but you're tragically mistaken. You're the kind of person who when they see a good ole' game of "slaps" going on, marches right up to one of the players and punches them in the face.... and then can't quite understand why they didn't see it as funny - and why wouldn't they? You were only doing what they do, but pushing the limits... isn't that how comedy works?
What you're doing - what you're writing offers nothing to anybody.
Nobody benefits.
Nobody laughs.
You're the reason that literary Tumble-weed exists.
They just wish you'd go away.
You may feel that this is a place where you fit in. you're wrong. You stick out like a straight priest in Vatican City.
Fuck off.
( , Thu 27 Jan 2011, 9:52, closed)
I've just looked though all the ranting, abusive shit that you've posted.
While "being a bit of a cunt" can be good if the Cunt is *funny*, you're just being abusive for no reason, without humour, and in a way that makes you horribly easy to despise.
You're probably picturing yourself as a bit "Frankie Boyle" - after all, he's abusive and funny - but you're tragically mistaken. You're the kind of person who when they see a good ole' game of "slaps" going on, marches right up to one of the players and punches them in the face.... and then can't quite understand why they didn't see it as funny - and why wouldn't they? You were only doing what they do, but pushing the limits... isn't that how comedy works?
What you're doing - what you're writing offers nothing to anybody.
Nobody benefits.
Nobody laughs.
You're the reason that literary Tumble-weed exists.
They just wish you'd go away.
You may feel that this is a place where you fit in. you're wrong. You stick out like a straight priest in Vatican City.
Fuck off.
( , Thu 27 Jan 2011, 9:52, closed)
two things
Frankie Boyle isn't funny
And the OP really should have washed his dirty arse so BraynDedd did have a fair point
( , Thu 27 Jan 2011, 14:08, closed)
Frankie Boyle isn't funny
And the OP really should have washed his dirty arse so BraynDedd did have a fair point
( , Thu 27 Jan 2011, 14:08, closed)
Yes he is. He's just raw.
Secondly..
Do you also get angry about comics? ... or is it just B3ta Fiction that gets your goat?
( , Thu 27 Jan 2011, 14:51, closed)
Secondly..
Do you also get angry about comics? ... or is it just B3ta Fiction that gets your goat?
( , Thu 27 Jan 2011, 14:51, closed)
Nothing 'got my goat' dear
I was just giving my opinion. We don’t all overreact at things we read on the internets
And besides, not washing your bum for a year is skanky
And I don't read comics
But do tell me your favourite
Beano?
( , Thu 27 Jan 2011, 15:02, closed)
I was just giving my opinion. We don’t all overreact at things we read on the internets
And besides, not washing your bum for a year is skanky
And I don't read comics
But do tell me your favourite
Beano?
( , Thu 27 Jan 2011, 15:02, closed)
Beano?
We don't have that in Sweden. Sorry. Select another schoolyard put-down, and see if *that* one works. ;o)
I'll help you to start. My Mom isn't fat, but she is in a wheelchair. Someone of your calibre is sure to rattle up a winner with that. :o)
I agree: not washing your ass for year is indeed skanky... but why berate someone for writing fiction about it... do you *really* believe someone would wear shit-nuts as a necklace... or in your family is that considered normal? ;o)
( , Thu 27 Jan 2011, 15:41, closed)
We don't have that in Sweden. Sorry. Select another schoolyard put-down, and see if *that* one works. ;o)
I'll help you to start. My Mom isn't fat, but she is in a wheelchair. Someone of your calibre is sure to rattle up a winner with that. :o)
I agree: not washing your ass for year is indeed skanky... but why berate someone for writing fiction about it... do you *really* believe someone would wear shit-nuts as a necklace... or in your family is that considered normal? ;o)
( , Thu 27 Jan 2011, 15:41, closed)
Some of these replies are harsh
but, yeah, seriously... pooclumps shouldn't happen with adequate basic hygiene.
( , Thu 27 Jan 2011, 1:26, closed)
but, yeah, seriously... pooclumps shouldn't happen with adequate basic hygiene.
( , Thu 27 Jan 2011, 1:26, closed)
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