Should have used a weedwackerFollow

So my hellish week of finals has concluded with me slightly worse for wear. While walking dazedly back to my apartment to crash into a much deserved three day siesta, I happened to run into a lady friend with whom I had previous recieved many wonderful fringe benifits from. ****** like a minx)

We decide to meet back at my place and help each other work out the tensions of the last few weeks. (Her: GOD I need to destress. ME: Orgasms are super for that. Her: Your place in two hours)

Feeling pretty good about myself, I notice in the bathroom mirror as I stepped into the shower I have let my personal grooming habits lax since a lady had been around. Improving the "Lay of the land" if you will, took some doing. Clipping, shaving, filing (No one likes sharp points in their sensitive bits... well not really sharp) and the such took up the majority of the next 45 minutes as well as the grooming of the chest hair (Racing strips FTW!). As I head south I discover, much to my embarrisment, that my once immaculately trimmed playing field (More like banzai tree, it's a zen experence) had become an overgrown soccer field.

I'd been up all night and hadn't gotten very much sleep in the last few days as well. Combined with the 32 cups of coffee I had imbibed to fortify me as I digested the dense matter that is Kant, I was .... Shakier than Muhammad Ali.

Undaunted I attempted to tame the wild growth as if my life depended on it. Hair was everywhere, flying, floating, a literal snow flurry of pubic hair showered my bathtub. Sadly, the snow turned red as a call (which from Caller ID said was from the aformentioned minx) startled my already jittery nerves.

The pain was, for lack of a better phrase, as if the hand of God Himself had comedown from the heavens and FLICKED me straight in the resting place of my (Significantly diminished) progeny. I think I blacked out for a few moments because when I came to, my landlord was pounding on the door yelling if I was alright.

Keeping the door shut I told him everything was fine and that I had just burned myself on the stove.

Realizing that I felt as if I had a very hot poker sticking into my neither regions (metaphorically as it were). Also, there seemed to be a copious amount of blood from the bathroom to the door of my apartment. Grabbing a towel I bravely staunched the flow with one of my mothers hand-darned doilies ******** hated that thing) and attempted to assess the situation.

I will spare you the details but a little further to the left and I would have not had to pay for the vasectomy I've always wanted.

I then Washed the gaping wound clean and applied pressure, medical gauze and as many pain killers as I considered safe. Called the lady back and asked for a raincheck (Which she gladly gave (Apparently I'm fun in the sac.)) and debated commiting Seppuku to absolve myself of the shame of it all.


So. Here I sit. Gaused up and slightly woozy on painkillers sharing my story so that when I come to my senses I know that I have at least brought a little laughter into the Asylum. Even if it is at me.

You lost me at so.

So you didn't ***** the lady friend? What a p[Blanchedalmond][/Blanchedalmond]ussy.

That wasen't funny, to many words to be funny. Have I mentioned how much I hate young punk kids?

No?

I'll save that for another thread then.

Edited, Thu Apr 20 20:41:33 2006 by Aegis