Letters from Friends: Debunking Urban Myths

This letter, dated 2008 made me re-think the word PAIN. The names have been changed to protect the innocent, but be advised that this story is achingly authentic. I have to note that I received permission to post this. Ladies this story is for you, and I guess to some extent Guys this might be good information for you as well in more of a ¨what not to do¨ kind of way. While this is not my work I felt it worthy of this site.
With that all said here we go, get ready to be shocked, amazed and a little bit sick to your stomach. Incidentally the subject of the letter to me is ¨Be careful with that thang¨.

Dear Kevin
Thanksgiving was great. cooked up a big batch of clam chowder (not very traditional i know, but hey,) mashed potatoes, stuffed mushrooms, shrimp salad, yam cakes, and a couple of roast chickens from the bar up the road (not quite turkey, but it's a bird, right?) anyway, worked out nicely, and it turned out that i had thursday and friday off as the client at the job we were supposed to start wasn't ready. had about 6 or 8 people over - including lovely miss (deleted). friday morning (as i had the day off) we slept in quite late, and were in bed quite a bit later, not exactly sleeping. ...here comes the good part, i'll try to keep this as pg as possible. so, in the midst of miss (deleted) not exactly sleeping on top of myself (also rather awake,) ...well - let's talk motors and say that precisely at the moment of change from top dead center (when the piston is all but outside the cylinder) to compression (when the piston is forcefully driven into the cylinder) something similar, but much more painful,to slipping a ring happened to me - that is, the piston came out of the cylinder a bit too much, and upon compression met with the engine block instead of the cylinder, thereby throwing a rod - or in my case, bending me in half like a jacknife. ouch. and i do mean !!!!!!!!!!!!!OOUUCCHH!!!!!!!!!!!!! got myself up (after of while of writhing) and into the bathtub - hoping that once a little more relaxed things would return to normal, as my aparatus had a rather unsettling Z shape to it. when neither the bath nor another spell of writhing seemed to help, and in fact i could see that i was filling with unsightly and uncomfortable bulges of blood (you can puke now,) - i decided it was probably time for a visit to the emergency room. i wasn't in that much pain, but rather uncomfortable, and my system was definitely in a disturbing (still z shaped, but now blue) state. right. so go to the emergency room and tell nice young lady at the admission desk what you're there for. little embarrassing. second door on the left. now tell the nice nurse what's happened, and better yet, let her have a look. embarrassing. go to room 4. explain to the three nice nurses what's happened. let 'em have a look too, just for good measure. good and embarrassing. wait a couple of minutes and the urologist (LA urologista, that is, as opposed to EL,) will see you. 5 minutes and you get to explain to the nice urologist, the three nurses that were there at first, and two more that have shown up for the spectacle what's happened and how. 'nother look-see all around too, gotta be sure. at this point you pass completely on embarrassment, and ask if anyone else (or any of their friends, family, or associates) would like to have a look. turns out - and here i still feel like i'm going to puke - i had to be operated on, a sort of drainage project to get rid of all the blood building up. got me 7 stitches. yes, 7,
and spent the night and next morning in the hospital. luckily they (the docs, that is) say i seem to be recovering well, and that things 'look good'. 'things' still aren't looking that good to me, but i can definitely see that they're getting better (and none of that nasty Z business - makes it confusing to piss.) got the week (or however long i need) off of work, and i've been converted into something of a local hero around here... there's a saying in spanish - 'voy a partirme la polla follando' - (i'm gonna bust my dick fucking,) which although is familiar to all, no one actually knew of anybody who had really done it. that's american grit for ya... we also have a phrase in english, "blue balls," which again, although is familiar to us all, it's possible that i'm the first you know to actually have them. feeling a lot less like i got hit in the nuts with a mack truck doing a buck-twenty down I-90 today, which is a good thing. hope this
thing heals up quick - find myself having to think about baseball a whole lot lately...

anywho... next time you bust yerself a good one on the finger - think of yer pal (deleted), and laugh your fucking nuts off............ if you can!