My uncle the idiot, his balls and a garage door.
I received a telephone call from my mother last night. Her first words were to splutter, “You wouldn’t beeeeliiiiiiieve what your idiot uncle has done now!”

Considering my uncle dressed like a rapist-eyed clown and tried to spank my unwilling bare bottom on my 20th birthday, I figured this would be a most enjoyable story, and it was.

Yesterday, my aunt received a telephone call from a police station 300 miles from her house. My uncle had just made best his half-naked escape from a hospital. As he got a bit slappy and kicky with the hospital staff, he was arrested and placed under supervision. Could she pick him up? “What the...?” she cried. Worried that her partner was in quite a serious physical state and even more grim trouble with the law in a strange city, she hopped in the car and raced to this hospital a state away.

Two days previously, my uncle stood up in the middle of dinner and announced he was leaving. He walked to the door, picked up a pre-packed bag and left. He would not answer his phone. Nobody knew – friends or family - where he’d gone or when (if) he’d be back. My aunt was distressed; worried about the usual things like suicide and adulterous affairs. She was ready to call the police, when the police called her.

Find out, he had been diagnosed with prostate cancer in February. Instead of telling anybody, he thought he could check himself into a seemingly random hospital, have the surgery, discharge himself straight away and spend the next several days with ice strapped to his nads in a roach-infested hotel. He didn’t have any insurance, so he was getting the surgery done in the cheapest fashion possible. The hospital wouldn’t allow him to discharge himself, so, in his woozy state; he tried to run away with his bandaged bollocks flapping in the wind. Instead of listening to the nurses’ reasoning, he just hit them. Drugs, eh?

Why not tell the family? How could he live with the big C word looming over his soul for a whole six months?

He didn’t want my aunt to know; not because he wished to save her feelings or that he didn’t want her to worry until he was certain that everything was OK. No, the cheapass was concerned about the amount of money he had to spend on himself. As he and my aunt have an agreement that x amount of money spent on one equates to x amount of money spent on the other, he was fretful that she was going to spend however much it cost to save his life on herself.

More specifically, that she was going to buy a new garage door, an issue of magnitude in my aunt’s household.

The lie got so out of control that he didn’t realise that prostate cancer surgery != garage door, and instead, he may very well go to jail on a number of charges.

Dumbass.

**This story is built on Chinese whispers, so the details are a bit sketchy. The reason, the method and the outcome, however, are accurate.
(TheSnark oh, c'mon, like you didn't see me coming, Mon 16 Aug 2010, 14:42, 4 replies)

"prostate cancer !=garage door"
I never thought I'd laugh at prostate cancer, it having got my Dad, but this is just excellent.
(all my scars face forward possesses 2.5% of a hyperalloy combat chassis, Mon 16 Aug 2010, 17:10, closed)

The title had my mind going another way
But I was more pleased that the story didn't go that way.
(CactusZack Shaved his coin purse on, Mon 16 Aug 2010, 17:40, closed)

This statement: "dressed like a rapist-eyed clown and tried to spank my unwilling bare bottom on my 20th birthday"
Raises all sorts of questions. Here are a couple.

1) Is it your habit to go around bottomless around relatives on birthdays?
2) The bare bottom was unwilling, but was the rest of you willing?
( BrokenCoccyx doesn't mind if you grope on, Mon 16 Aug 2010, 18:42, closed)

No.
Also, no.
(TheSnark oh, c'mon, like you didn't see me coming, Mon 16 Aug 2010, 18:58, closed)