Incredibly long one here. Ahem.
I got circumcised a few months ago (at age 26). And below is the blog I posted to tell the tale.

...

The reasons? 1, my wife is a Muslim, and as part of getting married to her I have to undergo a few changes. 2, I live in Bali which is a really hot country, and for hygiene it's a rather good idea. No one wants to talk to someone with that kind of itch.

So the appointment was made for 10 am. I canceled my private classes for the day, and sat down to have a really good think about something else

I have an extra 2 hours to wait because they forgot to book me in. I'm trying not to think about the whole situation as you might expect, and a delay at this point is not something I'm pleased about. Finally the time comes and we get into a taxi. We drive for about 10 minutes, and then turn down a little side road and pull up outside a house. A house - not a clinic, but an actual house. This is when I really start to worry. It's exactly the kind of little side of the road Doctor that you see all over Indonesia's cities. Just somebody's garage, usually.

My mind is awash with a plethora of images. I expect to be taken off by some guy that looks like a grubby, short-sighted Gandhi, and led into a darkened garage. Coils of hose pipes litter the floor, and there are small piles of screws and nails and metal scratchings over any available surface. Rusty power tools come to mind, and then I see them too sitting off in one heavily stained corner of the room. There's an arid smell to the air, and it's so thick that I can taste it. Then I notice an area that has been hastily cleared, and an old, well-used wooden chopping board. It's stained. It looks like someone was cutting some fresh steak on it, but then forgot to clean up for several weeks. That doesn't bother me so much as the rusty steak knife that's lodged in it. The knife changes as I look at it, the image varying as my fear conjures up even more original and exciting method of torture. There's a clever, and then a katana; even a circular saw at one point. But my imagination finally settles on a rather brutal looking machete. All of these are rusty, of course. Just underneath the edge of the table is a small pile of what I can only describe a distressingly organic 'scraps'. Gandhi tells me not to worry. "I be doing this 80 years long Mr Toxo" he says, whilst looking me directly in the right ear. My eye is drawn to movement. In another corner of the room is a pile of...something, underneath a tarpaulin. There's something sticking out of it. Something familiar. What is...is it..is that..? Is that someone's elbow? "Very high rate success" Gandhi says. What does that mean? I look over at him and without realising it, point to the tarpaulin. So looks confused, and then shrugs saying "Not worry Mr Toxo. 3 times is charming, yes?".

I'm shaken out of my meandering by my wife, who's getting bored of waiting.

"What's up?"
"They have a powercut. So we're waiting" (I'm thinking that a machete doesn't need power)
"So what now?"
"They're going to take us to the clinic to do it"

Well, thank God and sonny Jesus for that, thinks I! No more machetes. It'll be the laser, like it was meant to be. Yes, that'll put me off ever watch Goldfinger again, but at least it 'sounds' modern and hygienic!

So we wait a bit more. There's not much to do, so I glance over to the Indonesian language newspaper of the table, despite being unable to read Indonesian. Practice makes perfect right? And I need something else to think about. The Radar Bali, it's called, but I soon stop when I realise that it's choc full of words with 'c', 'o', 'c' and 'k', roughly in that order. The last think I need to be reminded off. So instead, I close my mind to everything, and just think of nothing.

The sound of a clock gently ticking has always been a comfort to me. I've often suspected that it's because of the sound. To me, it's always sounded like an axe. As a child I found this a comfort. My Dad is a tree surgeon, so the sound of an axe hitting wood reminded me of him. Possibly. Well, whatever, I like the sound.

Chop.

CHOP!

CHOP!!!

Argh! Suddenly I'm not so comfortable. MUST THE WHOLE WORLD TAUNT ME!?! Finally the guy comes to take us to the clinic. Another quick 10 minute drive to the clinic. The clinic doesn't have a/c, and I've just spent an hour in a house with no power in 30+ degree heat, on a day when sweating is inevitable. So we can't do it there then. No matter! We'll do it at home on the bed! Lovely. And I can watch a DVD while we do it. Deep Joy.

We get back home, and I'm told to lie on the bed. The Mrs is now asking (repeatedly) "Do you want me to stay? I can stay if you want me to. I can go if you want me to". She end's up staying. There are two doctors here to help. "You can put on a DVD to help you relax" one says - to Mrs Toxo!

Out comes the anesthetic. Down go the shorts and pants.

"Oh! You haven't shaved."
D'oh!
"It's OK, you can do it afterwards"

Brace yourself Toxo. Here comes the injection. Que three injections - not as bad as I expected. I knew it wouldn't be. Happily, the psychological trauma that leads up to the event more than makes up for it. There are three injections, mind. And then comes what I can only describe as the "rubbing". To get it all into my system. At least, I hope to Christ that's why he did it!

I feel strange. There's a strange whining, ringing sound in my ears, and every thing starts to look a little faded; edges of objects in the room have gone blurry. I feel a little dizzy. And then my heart...explodes. It feels like the time I drank 5 red bulls in a row. It's like a crazed, homicidal manic that's been locked up in HMP Belmarsh for 30 years desperately trying to break free through my rib cage. In short, I feel shit.

"The anesthetic should have made you feel a little funny" says Doc 1.
Thanks for the head's up. 'Should have'? You couldn't have told me before it happened?
"It should feel OK after 3-5 minutes".
Indeed it does.

I get a second round of injections which "shouldn't hurt as much as the first round". LIES!! It's still no worse than an inoculation, but still. After another 15 minutes of acute 'rubbing' it's time to get down to it.

Que a deep sense of dread.

Out come the clamp, which look rather like the long nose pliers my Dad used to use when fishing. Everything is moved into place.

"Do you want to watch? You only get the chance to see this once" asks Doc 2. That's fine and all, but once may be too much. I do look though, because I'm cursed with curiosity. Looking at the clamps I think - and may have said - "that should hurt". Out come the scissors.

"Hang on, what about the lasers?"

That's just the name of this method. There aren't really any lasers"

False advertising, surely?

...
...
snip

And I swear, it was the most unusual mixture of feelings. Horror; fear; sadness; the ever-present curiosity; surprise at the lack of pain. They're all there for the trip. And then the scissors go down. Just that one tiny snip? Something's missing...

My Mum loves her arts and crafts. Every year we get birthday and Christmas card which are hand made - and I must admit, very well. She has this really odd tool for cutting polystyrene. Essentially, it's a bit of fuse wire that's connected to a 9v battery. It heat's the wire, and then you can use the wire to cut the polystyrene.

Now imagine the same thing, but connected to the mains. This is what is known as a 'laser' in the exciting world of 'having a bit of your willy cut off'.

I don't know if you've ever smelt burning flesh, unless there's a large percentage of anomalous Vietnam veterans among my readership, but it's not pleasant. When you know where the burning flesh is, and it's something 'close' to you, it's a whole lot worse - believe me.

Guy Ritchie's Snatch is loaded and started.

And then it was off. The Mrs asks if she can keep it, and thankfully is told '"no" (this doesn't stop her trying to tell me that she's put it on my pizza later). And then I'm stitched up which takes another hour.

All in all, the whole process took 90 minutes - not the 30 minutes I was promised. The anesthetic lasted for another 4 hours, and then it started to ache, and then just feel sore. Wearing trousers is about as fun as stabbing yourself in the eye with a pencil.

I'm told it'll take 5 days or so to heal. During this time, I have to put up with something that looks like Frankenstein's monster in my trousers.
(Toxoplasmosis Dulce et decorum est pro sodomy coleslaw, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 12:23, 27 replies)

Answers?
So you are now in the position of being able to tell us out here who want to know... Is sex better with or without?
And has your wife commented on it feeling different?
Maybe once and for all we can answer the question !!!!
(paof2 Nude might not be rude, but rude could be nude..., Wed 18 Mar 2009, 12:34, closed)

my missus
claims that its better without. Having said that she may be biased as A) I am without and B) My cock is massive.
( SpikeyPickle wishes he was mabazaritchie, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 12:47, closed)

Well...
...it's not as easy to masterbate, as you really do need some kind of lube for assistance - unless you're quick.

No that I'd know, as I'm married...

*scoffs*
(Toxoplasmosis Dulce et decorum est pro sodomy coleslaw, Thu 19 Mar 2009, 6:10, closed)

Oucheroo!
I had mine done a year ago, under general anaesthetic (in the uk). Can't imagine having it done under local, though that may be because my cock was stupendously sensitive having had phimosis (non-retractable foreskin) previously.

Entertaining write-up, esp. your wife trying to wind you up with foreskin pizza toppping :D
( LemonEntryMyDearWatson This time, Moriarty, the hand is on the other foot, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 12:54, closed)

Everytime
someone mentions circumcision in a post, a debate forms in the comments. All seems a case of "argh! something different!" to me.
(sailorspoon started wiping his own arse from, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 12:59, closed)

Frankenstein's monster
When I had my circumcision the doctor told me "It's going to look like a dog's dinner for a few days" - that comment's stayed with me.
( monkeybananaraffle, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 13:03, closed)

Very interesting...
and very informative. I personally don't agree with the 'hygiene' argument especially if one washes every day. However, what one does with one own's body is nothing to do with anyone else.

Click for the pizza!
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 13:16, closed)

Agreed
I think it's more what one does with other people's bodies that causes the aggro...
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 16:56, closed)

I don't need one,
mine is naturally retracted, "a perfect specimen" as my grandmother who used to be a nurse said of it when I was a baby.

I can post pictures if you like ;-)
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 13:42, closed)

Go on then
Pics or it doesn't exist.
(Helixdaunting, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 22:32, closed)

Wow.
I've got the same operation this year (hopefully under general anaesthetic) and now I know it can be worse, it's helped a little.

Not much though.
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 13:45, closed)

let me know when
and I'll be ready to punch it :0)
( SpikeyPickle wishes he was mabazaritchie, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 13:48, closed)

They asked me what drugs I wanted when I left hospital
Came out with 10 vials of morphine (light weight stuff though), a load of fuck off powerful co-codamol and some other stuff. Spent next 10 days in a kind of daze. Imagining it in advance was far worse than the actual experience, which was fine to be honest
( LemonEntryMyDearWatson This time, Moriarty, the hand is on the other foot, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 13:49, closed)

I suspect
that spending a week and a half off your tits afterwards sweetened the deal somewhat too? :)
( Noeli overtheshoulderboulderholderthingstraplatchboobs, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 17:08, closed)

I think it may have, yep! :D
I say think, but memories rather hazy of the whole affair
( LemonEntryMyDearWatson This time, Moriarty, the hand is on the other foot, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 19:28, closed)

.
@Lemon
Sweet!

@Spike
No
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 14:22, closed)

I think your absense from the pub
might be an indicator as to when you have it done. Either that or I'll simply check with El Davo, the 8th non-bearded wonder of the world!!!
( SpikeyPickle wishes he was mabazaritchie, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 14:41, closed)

Haha
Fair enough!
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 15:32, closed)

Ouch
My brother-in-law got circumcised as an adult as well. Apparently in South Korea (and I think the Philippines) it's common practice.
(racetraitor has an alibi for, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 16:24, closed)

I'm circumcised
Sometimes wish I wasn't though as my old boy isn't as sensitive as it could be.

Still - at least sex is always a prolonged pleasure :)

Really would not like to have the procedure done now though *shudder*
(Spangulum nailing your mother since 1824, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 16:59, closed)

Does your sig mean what I think it means?
"it is sweet and good to cut up cabbage for bumsex"

I wonder how well that would have gone down in WW1. :P
(Helixdaunting, Wed 18 Mar 2009, 22:34, closed)

Yes.
It is.
(Toxoplasmosis Dulce et decorum est pro sodomy coleslaw, Thu 19 Mar 2009, 6:07, closed)

Ha ha ha ha ha Ha Ha
As I know Toxo personally I know exactly how his wife was torturing him until it healed.... and as for the Pizza Topping I believe her!
( fagilliD Fuck I'm good!, Thu 19 Mar 2009, 5:17, closed)

*Click*
Thanks for sharing that! Really, I didn't know exactly how they did it.. Thanks again! Hope you're soon back to firing on all four again!
(Beer Elf Thought this was like a campfire, anyhow, on, Thu 19 Mar 2009, 13:39, closed)