I Hurt My Rude Bits, AgainMy commute to work was made excellent the other day when I saw a motorcyclist try to ride on the pavement to avoid a traffic queue, lose control, fall off and land bollock-first on a concrete bollard. He was fine, eventually – but tell us your tales of the old blinding agony to the gentleman's or gentlewoman's area.
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Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 7 Mar 2013, 12:50)
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Slight touch of local - enough that the cuts didn't stingbut I could feel the butcher rummaging around down there.
Slightly disconcerting having my missus watching avidly I must say.
Got to defrost some peas afterwards tho and the 'final check' to make sure everything was still operational was fun!
(, Thu 7 Mar 2013, 21:15, 2 replies)
Exactly why I had no desire whatsoever to be conscious whilst some bloke with a knife tried to stab my sack and rifle the contents, I think I would have jumped up, punched the Doc and made a run for the door had I been awake.
(, Thu 7 Mar 2013, 23:22, closed)
Yeah that's what I had. In fact getting the anaesthetic administered through a big fuck-off needle directly into the bawsack was the worse bit.
Although the minutes that followed - the consultant asking me what I do for a living and where I was going on my holidays, while he fumbled around with my plums - was just plain bonkers.
(, Fri 8 Mar 2013, 13:45, closed)
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