Comedy Assplosion
It's been more than two years since my dad came as close to death as most people do without soon finding themselves in a very dark place. It's been two years of insanely successful recovery and ensuing happiness. Still, despite his fantastic health, I get a little nervous any time my dad goes into the doctor for any kind of procedure.
In recent days, my friends and family have been plagued by ass issues. BG, in a well-chronicled colonical, is recovery well, as is I hope my uncle who was having similar problems. And then my wife tells me my dad is going in for a routine colonoscopy.
Now, first, I was a little annoyed. My parents did a good job of sheltering me when I was a kid. I rarely knew anything bad was happening until it was long over. However, now that I am ostensibly an adult, it would be nice if they didn't purposefully avoid filling me in when stuff is going on.
That said, more than annoyed, there was that sinking feeling that things would turn out badly. Dad's brain aneurysm came just a few days after what was supposed to be a routine surgery and there has long been a part of me that felt his rotator cuff fix-up led to the exploding brain.
Of course, that's just me being paranoid. A colonoscopy is a very routine procedure and anyone who needs to have one should get one. And so I waited for the phone call that said everything was cool.
So, when Mom called this afternoon and sounded like she had been crying, I felt that sick feeling again. She quickly assured me that everything was okay, which, while nice, could mean anything from "the house burned down with Pope Benedict and 12 school children inside" to "I baked a very good batch of cookies today."
Fear not, though, all was well. She hadn't been crying. She'd been laughing. Here is the story as she related it:
As Dad was coming out of the anesthesia, mom asked, "So, are you awake?" Dad didn't answer.
The nurse took a look at my old man and said, "Looks like the lights are on, but no one is home yet." And then she left.
As the nurse left the room, my dad looked up at my mom and said, "They amputated my penis."
Shocked, likely on a number of different unspeakable levels, my mom said, "What?"
So, my dad repeated himself. "They had to amputate my penis...it was too big and it kept getting in the way."
Anesthesia rules.
It's been more than two years since my dad came as close to death as most people do without soon finding themselves in a very dark place. It's been two years of insanely successful recovery and ensuing happiness. Still, despite his fantastic health, I get a little nervous any time my dad goes into the doctor for any kind of procedure.
In recent days, my friends and family have been plagued by ass issues. BG, in a well-chronicled colonical, is recovery well, as is I hope my uncle who was having similar problems. And then my wife tells me my dad is going in for a routine colonoscopy.
Now, first, I was a little annoyed. My parents did a good job of sheltering me when I was a kid. I rarely knew anything bad was happening until it was long over. However, now that I am ostensibly an adult, it would be nice if they didn't purposefully avoid filling me in when stuff is going on.
That said, more than annoyed, there was that sinking feeling that things would turn out badly. Dad's brain aneurysm came just a few days after what was supposed to be a routine surgery and there has long been a part of me that felt his rotator cuff fix-up led to the exploding brain.
Of course, that's just me being paranoid. A colonoscopy is a very routine procedure and anyone who needs to have one should get one. And so I waited for the phone call that said everything was cool.
So, when Mom called this afternoon and sounded like she had been crying, I felt that sick feeling again. She quickly assured me that everything was okay, which, while nice, could mean anything from "the house burned down with Pope Benedict and 12 school children inside" to "I baked a very good batch of cookies today."
Fear not, though, all was well. She hadn't been crying. She'd been laughing. Here is the story as she related it:
As Dad was coming out of the anesthesia, mom asked, "So, are you awake?" Dad didn't answer.
The nurse took a look at my old man and said, "Looks like the lights are on, but no one is home yet." And then she left.
As the nurse left the room, my dad looked up at my mom and said, "They amputated my penis."
Shocked, likely on a number of different unspeakable levels, my mom said, "What?"
So, my dad repeated himself. "They had to amputate my penis...it was too big and it kept getting in the way."
Anesthesia rules.
9 Comments:
Holy crap, that's funny.
and what had to be funnier than that: the look on your mom's face when he said it. i suspect that was absolutely priceless.
i'm peeing myself.
I'm trying real hard not to wake up the house with my giggling...
Wait, so is your dad actually my brother, or does he just think he's my brother? I'm confused.
laffin' my ass off... 8^)
What a riot! Completely unexpected and very, very funny.
If his feet are books...what's his penis?
Leaflet isn't right...especially if it's big and gettin' in the way...
I'm gonna go with 'encyclopedia'...as in,
"Man, what a long day. I'm gonna put my books up and do a little research in the ol' encyclopedia."
That's FUNNY! The last anesthesia encounter I had ended with my roommate at the time telling me the sex change had been successful but the penis did not look real and me vomiting profusely in response due to my allergy to anesthesia. The rest of the recovery ward was quite amused.
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