This may well be the hardest post I have ever had to write. Not because of the content of the post, but because I wrote the first paragraph, and then one of the kittens jumped up and climbed on the keyboard. A couple of seconds after pressing the F5 key with her paw, I am starting again.
So I started again. Two lines in, the little boy kitten appears. The kitten hits F5 (along with almost every damn key on here!). Start again. 3 lines in, kittens come back.
No kitten managed to hit the F5 key this time, although I did think about hitting the kitten. Not hard. But the words “Get the hell off me! OK, out the window you go…” were whispered with great anger, and I launched the kitten out of the window. It is 2am and everyone is in bed, thus the whispering. Maybe I should have tried being an angry mime. See if they got the hint, as they sure as hell haven’t got it up until now.
Is now a bad time to mention I am on the 29th floor? OK, so I live in a house and the said window was on the ground floor.
No kitten was hurt in the making of this post. The same cannot be said of the subject of the post.
Lets set the scene:
You are sitting at home thinking about the hot date you have next week with the girl you have wanted to date for ages. Obviously it is going to go well, and you should be hitting a home run that night, even if this involves getting very drunk and pleading with her to let you have your way with her. (We wont mention that “your way” is to dress as a clown and she rides you like a bull in a china shop shouting “Faster Clowny FASTER!! WOOOHOOO!! while squeezing your nose which makes a comedy honking noise.)
Checking out your body, you check yourself out in the mirror. Look at that body! Rippling muscles. You are gorgeous. Oh if only someone had told you it is a novelty circus mirror. But it doesn’t matter. Muscles aren’t everything (are they? Please tell me they aren’t. My self esteem took on hell of a beating last time I read “Mens Health” when I realised that having a 32 pack is not as impressive as a 6 pack.)
But the one “muscle” that needs to be fit and healthy is the love muscle.
Looking down, you see twiglet. Limp and lifeless. Practically inverted. This is not going to work, and you have to do something about it. But there is only a week, and you are fresh out of kidneys to sell to help pay for an “enlargement”. Why oh why did you spend the money from the kidney you sold on all the items in the “Novelty” section of the eBay Ending Soon section? A frog that croaks the national anthem was just not worth £800. And why didn’t they tell you that it croaked the Burkina Faso national anthem? But being scared of getting negative feedback, you are left with it rather then return it to eBay user “ReturnItAndIWillBeatYouWithADessertSpoon”.
So what do you do?
Oh come on, you know the answer. It is the most obvious answer in the world.
You attach a nut to “twiggers” and then hang weights on there to increase the length (although pretty sure girth is as good as gone if you try this). What could possibly go wrong!
Apparently, a lot. Yeah I know. I was shocked too!
The guy got a little aroused. The last time I checked, metal doesn’t stretch. Game over. Off to hospital you go.
How do you explain that to the woman on reception? “Hey-llooo. I HAaaaAAave a nut attached to my peeeenis.” But he explained it, and they fixed it. By draining some blood and cutting off some skin.
Bear with me, I just need to cross my legs.
Now, they have not mentioned if he will have any long term damage. What damage could he have? Well, I am pretty sure he won’t be accepted to mechanics college, and he really needs to work out what his “nuts” are for. The constant pointing from everyone in the town may also have a small issue on him.
So there you go. It isn’t the size that matters. It is knowing what tools are going to make you end up in hospital that counts.
You can read about the freak HERE.
wheelturninghamsterdead.com 