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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A tickling sensationWhen I was five years old, a friend and I used a pocket knife to try and cut down a Coyote Willow. Coyote Willows are technically trees, but they are very small. Each individual trunk is like a switch. They are very tough to cut.
We lost the knife in the leaf litter and underbrush, so we started yanking on the half-cut Coyote Willow to try and knock it down. We lost our grip, and landed together in a heap. Surprisingly, I located the pocket knife. With a distinct tickling sensation, the blade sliced into my bollocks.
I went home and explained the tickling sensation to my mother. Even though she was never eager to take us kids to the doctor, she acted with unseemly haste on this day. Apparently there was no serious damage.
The tickling sensation returned when I entered adolescence. My father had recently instructed me about the birds and bees and explained that he was always available for guidance. I explained the tickling sensation to him, and he howled with lurid amusement. (I thus learned early that parents are never to be trusted with this kind of information).
I never had kids. Not exactly sure why not.
(, Fri 8 Mar 2013, 18:29, Reply)
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