March 05, 2008
I did it
Originally published July 15, 2003
I went to work and gimped my way through the entire day. It wasn't easy, and I told both my boss and the people I boss that I would be available AT MY DESK most of this day. I was, too, in complete misery, uncomfortable sitting down, downright nauseated when I stood for long and damn near unable to climb stairs at all. I started to bail out and go home at noon today.
But I didn't. I discovered that the more I walked, the better I felt, as long as I kept popping Moutrin like pez candy. I wasn't striding with my usual gait, and I did attract some attention. A couple of people asked, "Rob, you don't look so good. What's the matter?"
I said, every time, "I just got a bionic dick implant and it hurts like hell. Want to hear all about it? Wanna SEE it?" Nobody wanted to hear all about it OR see it, so they left me alone after that. But I think my legend of being one rough cob spread because of the way I handled the situation. That legend is worth a lot more than actually BEING a rough cob, (even though I AM) so I accomplished a lot today.
I also did something politically incorrect in my office. I locked the door first, then hid behind by desk so that I could pull my pants down and just let my wounded privates BREATHE for a few minutes. That's when I saw the source of a lot of my misery.
That "We Are The World" nutsack the size of a huge toxic goiter and purple as an over-ripe fig is almost back to normal now. It looks like a genuine scrotum, except for a rapidly-healing, small-caliber bullet wound right between the two jewels. That part is starting to look okay.
ROSCOE is the problem! He's still multi-colored (mainly shades of blue, black and purple) but most of the hideous swelling from this weekend is gone now. Ice-packs are wonderful things and the power of positive thinking accomplished a lot for me last night. Roscoe is beginning to look like his old self except for one not-so-small problem.
I don't know if the doctor did this on purpose or if it is a natural part of the surgery, but I'm sporting a damn semi-boner all the time now. That fact actually intrigued me for a while today, because it's been so long since I've felt anything like what once was normal several times every day, but I'm tired of it now. The damn thing is causing me discomfort.
I am not circumsized. The semi-woody I am toting is just enough to make a bulge in my pants and keep my foreskin slightly retracted all the time. Roscoe is getting a constant Indian sunburn on his tender head with every step I take. Neither he nor I are accustomed to that kind of friction and it began to hurt by the end of the day.
I don't know what I am going to do about this problem. I'll have to think about a cap for his head.
But so far, so good. That's my bionic dick update for the day.
All content © Rob Smith