» I hurt my rude bits

Kidney Stones = Excruciating Goolie Pain
I suffer the misfortune of kidney stones on a fairly regular basis. Kidney stones are a conglomeration of calcium crystals that develop in the kidney. To give you an idea of their shape, think a small rock consisting solely of sharp edges. To give you an idea of the level of agony they can provide, a urologist once told me that kidney stones were the worst pain one could have without dying. Nothing I have ever felt has ever given me reason to disbelieve him.

When a stone develops in the kidney it can do one of two things: get stuck in the kidney or the ureter, necessitating surgery; or pass slowly through the ureter and eventually leave the body through the urine stream, aka through the end of the john thomas. Most leave through the second option.

So after a few weeks of slow, excruciating movement towards the tip of the old fella, they finally seem ready to be pissed out. This usually happens when I am in polite company. As doctors like me to keep any stones so they can analyse them, I have to ask someone in the household "Do you have a container you no longer need?" (to catch the stone in so I don't have to fish it out of the bowl).

I then make my way to the toilet, and amid screams and shrieks of pain, I finally pass a kidney stone (or two). By this stage I'm wimpering loud enough to cause the local dogs to bark. If there was a merciful God, the stone would just come out but sometimes they like to get caught in the Jap's eye opening. If this happens, then I, as gently as possible, try to yank the bastard out. Although the temptation is always there to crush the stone while screaming "DIE YOU FUCKER, DIE" for all the pain it caused, one always resists and places it in the specimin container with the other stones that have passed through my system. When I finally leave the bathroom, sweating and pale, I tend to show people the stone lest they think the screaming, shrieking, whimpering, and sweating is because I have been in their bathroom masturbating like a wild chimpanzee. Someone who once saw me pass a stone told me that my look at the critical stone passing moment is hilarious; they likened it to Terry Scott's response when he was shown the size of the document he had to smuggle out in his rectum in "Carry on Henry".

Someone once wrote here that they felt like "a freshly raped dog" after taking a sizeable dump. I can only say that no turd I have ever taken, no matter how hostile or gargantuan, can ever compare to the feeling of a piece of jagged rock making its way from the kidney, down through the ureter and out of the tip of your wedding tackle.

And to make matters worse, kidney stones will block fluid from leaving through the kidney, leaving it with really only option. Yes, one can also look forward to the sore diarrhorea arse as well.
(Thu 20th Jul 2006, 3:49, More)

» Running away

Adelaide
I was born in Adelaide and have been running away from the place ever since. A visiting comedian once said that Adelaide was just a big airport transit lounge; people sitting around waiting to leave.

I got out of there by going to university. I picked Northern Territory University because it was the place of learning furthest away from Adelaide. I then drank myself stupid for the next five years but that's another story.

When I was at uni I would meet other people from Adelaide who would invariably say "I see you've avoided the Adelaide curse as well". The Adelaide curse was to have three kids by two different partners and living in Housing Trust accomodation by 25.

My mate Tony, the only person I keep in contact with from school, went to our school's ten year reunion a few years back. He said it was the most depressing night of his life. Tony escaped the Adelaide curse by becoming a professional tennis player based in Germany who returns to Adelaide for a month or so each year. Yet, the highlight of one former fellow student's life since leaving school was that he once went to Melbourne for a weekend. Another ex-classmate was the envy of others because she had just moved into a new Housing Trust unit with her two kids (by two different fathers). Infact, according to Tony, the most discussed topic of the evening was the fact that I had appeared on a tv quiz show six months before (the second most discussed conversation was who had been to gaol and for what reason).

Adelaide; nice place to visit but if you're living there, for God sakes run away.
(Tue 15th Aug 2006, 6:13, More)

» The Worst Journey in the World

Germans
I took a 14 hour bus ride through Queensland with a bus load of Germans. Don't talk to me about Hell. I lived it.

It started poorly when the German sitting next to me told me he had been sunbathing naked and had burnt his wedding tackle so, if I didn't mind, he was going to plonk his tackle out so it wasn't rubbing against his shorts. Actually I did mind but there was no stopping him. Throughout the journey I would start to doze, only to be woken with a start to find my head far too close to his old fella.

At one point he asked me what the English word was for where someone else has the same name as you. It's "name sake" but I had a mental blank and couldn't think of it. He replied, with a very haughty, German tone "The English language is inferior."
I was moved to reply "Not only that but we don't have a word for 'We lost two world wars in the 20th century either'".
My response, while satisfying at the time, was perhaps a mistake as the tackle out German stood up and shouted something in German to the rest of the bus. Then I had a parade of German women taking turns to scream at me in German. I would say they were "mad German women" but the "mad" part is rather redundant, don't you think? I mean, all one has to say is "I met a German woman the other day" and you would automatically respond "In what way was she absolutely batshit insane?"

So, to make a long story shorter, I spent 14 hours on a bus with a tackle out German man and a group of clearly insane German women all shouting at me in German about how much of a bastard I was.
(Tue 12th Sep 2006, 7:46, More)

» Rock and Roll Stories

Up Close and Personal with Jerry Lee Lewis
A journalist I used to work with (who I'll call Ed) told me of the time in the early 80s he was sent out to interview Jerry Lee Lewis. As a young man, he was nervous about meeting the Killer, particularly as the other journalists at his paper had refused to do the interview, citing his wildness.

So Ed turned up at the post-gig piss-up to interview Jerry Lee, who promptly put Ed in a vicious headlock and then calmly returned to his conversation. Ed wasn't quite sure how long he was in the headlock for; it felt like hours but was probably less than a minute. He only wriggled out of the headlock because Jerry Lee had to relight his cigar.

Finally freed, Ed asked the Killer about the relatively poor ticket sales for his tour. Jerry Lee responded "Anyone who doesn't come to see me play can use my dick as a walking pole".

Ed then asked about Jerry Lee's scandalous personal life. Jerry Lee fixed him a look of pure hatred and said "I've shot people for less than that". Considering that Jery Lee had in fact shot his own bass player some years before, Ed didn't doubt it.

Jerry Lee told a few absolutely filthy stories about Elvis, Johhny Cash and some groupies before the entrance of some young women meant that Jerry Lee lost all interest in Ed, leaving Ed to mention the matter of the headlock to Jerry Lee's manager. "He does that to everybody. It's just his way of saying hello" said the manager.

Ed stuck around and watched Jerry Lee, then in his late 40s, outdrink men half his age. He also found out that once you attended a Jerry Lee Lewis party, you didn't leave until Jerry Lee left. And Jerry Lee had no intention of leaving. So, he watched as men, no longer able to drink or stand, collapse on the floor while the Killer kept drinking, seemingly unaffected.

Ed finally bolted around 5.00am so he could get his article written. When asked about the night he said that when he was in the headlock he thought "What a unique rock 'n' roll story, to be in a headlock by a Rock and Roll legend" only to find out he was but one of hundreds to find themselves stuck in the sweaty armpit of the Killer.
(Tue 4th Jul 2006, 17:02, More)

» Iffy crushes

Professor Mary O'Kane
This will be too obscure for many here but for a while a decade or so ago my fantasy crush was Professor Mary O'Kane when she was Vice-Chancellor of Adelaide University.

At the time I was a callow 20 something lad working iat the university. She was in her 40s and absolutely feared by her staff, lecturers and the government for her rather blunt approach to making the university one of the best in the world.

She was single, a workaholic and often scowled, and combined with the fact she was a woman in a position of power, led to a huge array of wild rumours circulating about her; she was a lesbian, she chopped off bloke's todgers as a hobby, she menstruated sulphuric acid. All this, of course, meant I got a monster lob on whenever I saw her.

While this obviously went nowhere we almost had an extremely awkward moment when she walked into my office one evening. Fortunately the geography of the office meant she couldn't see that I had images of her up on the computer and was having a touch up, so to speak.

She suddenly resigned after senior staff passed a motion of no confidence in her. With nothing left for me at the university, I moved on soon afterwards.

Nowadays she's the New South Wales Chief Scientist. www.chiefscientist.nsw.gov.au/About.aspx
(Sat 8th Oct 2011, 4:24, More)