My Vasectomy Adventure – At Least they Give you Drugs

“Nurse, part of his vans popped out and it’s on the floor.”

That’s an actual quote from an actual doctor who was actually cutting in to my balls. And just to clarify the object that popped off weren’t Vans like Spicoli wore. No, it was a piece of my vans deferens tube. Yes, the pipe that allowed me to sire three raging Fozz Spawn has been cut off forever.

Jesus Christ almighty was it an unpleasant experience. And because I’m a dyed in the wool bastard, I’m sharing it with you mooks. (Also, I have had a dose of hydrocodone and a few mouthfuls of Breckenridge bourbon. I am, as they say, kind of tuned up.)

Onward.

So I signed up for this fucking ball cutting because my wife wouldn’t get her tubes tied. Apparently “Carrying and delivering your three maniac sons are enough.” That’s her fucking job, am I right fellas?

But, but, but when you get your tubes tied THEY PUT YOU TO SLEEP. They don’t keep you awake. I guess man’s punishment is to deal with shrill women, fuckface bosses, and getting his balls cut. Well, if you’re gay then no ball cutting. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.)

I get into the ball cutting room and there is a gigantic jar on the table, which is stuffed with torn tickets. There are about 29 hopeful nurses waiting for me to draw the winning ticket. The winner gets to assist the doctor, and help move my massive member around. Kidding, it was one nurse. She was as Irish as you can be without having your pubic hair cut in the shape of a shamrock on St Patrick’s Day.

The prep work before the ball cutting is FUN! Yes, you get a dry shave; my balls are now as smooth as Peyton Manning’s buttocks before they are accidentally shoved into a trainer’s face.

Next, you get your dick taped down. Yes, the Lightning Rod, as it’s known in my head, was pulled straight, taped down, and left to struggle for its life. Scarlett Johansson and Alison Brie could have been performing a naked gymnastics routine, followed by a frolic in the shower, and that fucker wouldn’t have been able to move.

Next the doctor says, “You’re gonna feel a pinch.” No, motherfucker, you are not going to feel a pinch. You’re going to feel a fucking NEEDLE enter your sac and go into your balls. Even though your hairy beanbag has been coated with some kind of “numbing solution”, IT’S A FUCKING GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING NEEDLE IN YOUR BALLS.

Full cold sweat across your body. Biting your tongue. Gripping the sides of that operating table so hard you leave marks on the metal. And of course, that good old freight train of pain that slams into your fucking lizard brain whenever your cubes get grazed. Also, nausea. Also me saying, “Fuuuuuuuck.”

The doctor says, “Sorry, didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Yeah right, you sick fuck! I bet your middle name is fucking Mengele.” No one laughed.

Then you feel some tugging and then you think maybe your balls are getting smacked around like mini punching bags. Every spy movie – every movie scene where they’re torturing a guy and he won’t give up the info – is complete and utter Rex Ryan Shit. I would have traded one of the Fozz offspring to get the fuck out of there.

Then it’s over. Well, they have to RIP THE TAPE OFF THAT’S HOLDING DOWN YOUR COCK! Then it’s over.

The nurse gets you cleaned up and gives you a cup and says, “You have to provide a sample of your sperm after 15 ejaculations.” And I laughed and laughed and sent a text to Mrs. Fozz that said, “Regulators mount up and ride!”

I came home, iced my nuts and then my neighbor came over and I took a hydrocodone, drank a few Raging Bitches, had a bourbon and then tried to navigate dinner.

That’s it. I hope you all have been able to finally exhale.

I have to go lay down on the couch and pretend it doesn’t feel like my shorts are stuffed with bruised plums.

Thing That Made Me Happy

A recruiter called me and he sounds competent. In this case, competent means he’s not a drooling hydrocephalic that jacks off in his pants and finger fucks stray dogs.

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JerBear50

I had mine done back in about ’05. It honestly wasn’t bad– no scalpel, no needles. The worst part was the anesthesia. They used some kind of hi-pressure topical that basically shoots the anesthesia into your skin. It felt like getting flicked in the balls. Not horrible pain, but enough to get your attention. I was swollen and sore for a couple days but overall it wasn’t bad at all. The smell of the cauterization was a little unsettling as some have already mentioned. I think the strangest part was that shortly after my surgery the doctor started marketing himself really heavily. So for the last decade plus, from time to time I look up through the windshield and see his weird Tarantino-esque face splashed across a giant billboard sign.
http://farm1.static.flickr.com/191/463539331_db22126c3f_m.jpg

ballsofsteelandfury

When my brother had laser eye surgery, i fainted because of the smell. When it was my turn, I was too terrified of looking away and fuck up the procedure to notice the smell. I still had one eye that didn’t go exactly right and i now wear glasses again.

Fuck elective surgery.

JerBear50

For someone who didn’t want kids, I gotta say it was more than worth it. No more of those terrified couple weeks where you don’t know if she missed or was just late. Fuck that noise.

Buddy Cole's Halftime Show

See the key to avoid all of this is realizing that a mouth is just a vagina with porcelain surrounding it!

This reminds of the time I seduced Milo in a Boise bathhouse! I offered him anal and he said:
“I don’t want my penis in a place filled with a shit, thank you.”

Well I guess he doesn’t self-suck then!

Unsurprised

No man in human history has been flexible enough to self-suck a micropenis.

blackroseMD1

The one part of mine that I remember clearly is the smell when they cauterized the ends of the tubes after the snip. Oof.

JerBear50

There’s a split second where you think “Hey, what’s burning/Oh that’s me.”

nomonkeyfun

I wouldn’t recommend eating any frozen peas from the Fozz household.

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entropy

While I found this story enjoyable, I found clicking “You like that? Huh?” to be more than a little unnerving.

(three cheers for being sterile!)

LemonJello

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Moose -The End Is Well Nigh

Perfect.

Moose -The End Is Well Nigh

What did one testicle say to the other?

“There is a vas deferens between us!”

Moose -The End Is Well Nigh
Moose -The End Is Well Nigh

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Moose -The End Is Well Nigh

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Unsurprised

I’m chatting on Tinder with a woman about fantasy football. So I’ve got that going for me.

Low Commander of the Super Soldiers

Have you asked her the most important question?

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Unsurprised

FUCK! I knew I forgot something.

I thought we were onto whether Matt Ryan is Elite?

ballsofsteelandfury

Based off the super bowl, i would think the answer was obvious.

Low Commander of the Super Soldiers

…the Lightning Rod, as it’s known in my head…

http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7773/3341/1600/bolt2.jpg

BOLTMAN HAS MORE IN COMMON WITH THIS MORTAL THAN ORIGINALLY EXPECTED. DO THE HUMAN FEMALES RUN SCREAMING FROM THE SIGHT OF YOURS AS WELL? /Pelvic thrust

Unsurprised

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Don T

I can still remember the smell of cauterization down there. Heinous, until I realized NO MORE HOLDING BABIES EVA!* Now it’s like a bouquet of gardenias.

* Agreed to meet any grandkids on their 4th birthday.

LemonJello

a drooling hydrocephalic that jacks off in his pants

C’mon, now, Bob Irsay has been dead for years…

Unsurprised

Jim Irsay has been brain dead for years, too.

LemonJello

Allegedly, he foregoes the pants when jacking it.

King Hippo

The worst part is they MAKE GODDAMNED SMALL TALK the whole time. And you an’t exactly say “could you please shut your fucking yap” and piss off the guy CUTTING UP YOUR GODDAMNED BALLS.

Moose -The End Is Well Nigh
laserguru

Mine was in 2003 when the Cubs and Yankees were heading to the playoffs and the doctor, a Yankee fan was just going on and on about baseball the whole time.

Still one of the best decisions I ever made.

Rikki-Tikki-Deadly

The tugging part was the worst of it for me. I’m shuddering at the memory of that sensation.

The “pennies in a jar” method is good for counting things up in preparation for your next visit.

Moose -The End Is Well Nigh

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nomonkeyfun

Finger fucking a stray dog, also known as a Baltimore Prom Date.