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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Pole vaulting and the vaulted poleWhen I was in high school I decided to try out for the pole vaulting squad. You didn't have to run as far as the long distance guys or do all the sprints that the sprinters did. Plus, the squad was filled with stoners and goog-offs. After a tough season of football, it seemed like the right fit.
I soon found out that it took a great deal of upper body strength and that if you couldn't run fast enough, you couldn't get enough force to bend the pole and propel yourself forward. Leg strengthening and sprints followed, much to my chagrin.
One day a number of us were vaulting, taking turns going over the bar at certain heights. I lined up, started down the path, planted well, drove well, had a good rock back and ended up with one leg on one side of the cross bar. We used to use metal cross bars that conveniently bent when struck. Some bright soul decided fiberglass would maintain it's shape longer so that's what I found myself on.
The crossbar bent downward; I started sinking and the pole I was clinging to started bending away from me. The cross bar bent more, the pole bent more. Suddenly, the cross bar flew heavenward, and the pole, capable of propelling a 160lb human upward, came back at me with a vengeance and fwacked me right in the seeds.
It was instant, blinding pain and I writhed on the pit for some time while the other vaulters berated me and told me to get out of the way. I somehow made it to my feet, blinking away black spots and walked, true cowboy style into the locker room. There, I dropped trou, hoisted myself up onto the drinking fountain and allowed the lovely cold water to flow over my battered balls until numb.
Everyone had a good laugh when I told them why I would be skipping the next few practices and although I don't remember any noticeable swelling, I worried for years that I would never reproduce.
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BrokenCoccyx doesn't mind if you grope on, Tue 12 Mar 2013, 17:04,
1 reply)
Wait, you stuck your tackle in the drinking fountain?(
BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Tue 12 Mar 2013, 17:14,
closed)
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