Public Service Announcement: Do Not Slap My Ass Or This Will Happen To YouSubmitted by ASO at 2008-10-28 07:09:25 EDT
Rating: 1.06 on 48 ratings (48 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
I'm not really sure how to start telling this story. I think I'm going to give you some unnecessary rising action because I feel like the payoff deserves it, but you might just want to skip down to the paragraph that starts with "Toward the end of the night" and that will give you an idea of the bad things that happen to you if you slap my ass.
I have a penchant for breaking things when I am drunk. My specialty is kicking doors down but I also have dabbled in ripping door bell chimes out of the wall, throwing cracked toilet tanks off the roof, and setting fire to old couches left on the street to be picked up by the garbage man in the morning in front of homes which belong to people who I dont know who they are. I don't have a reason for doing any of this, and although I pay for the damage when I am sober the next day I don't see it as a deterrent. I get drunk and break things. It's what I do.
I've never felt sorry for it until Friday night, when I kinda-sorta broke my friend's penis. No homo of course, but it happened and I feel supremely sorry for my involvement.
Friday night was my frat's barn dance. If you never went to college and/or were too cool to associate with the people who pay for their friends, barn dance is an annual event every frat and sorority holds at which everybody gets belligerently drunk and they destroy somebody else's home for once. It's just an excuse to get really really drunk. Like I needed one, alcoholic that I am.
I'll save you the chronology of my drinking because I hate when other people tell me "dude bro I just had like 16 coronas and 7 shots of malibu in 20 minutes dude, ugh ack oh my god bro" and if I were to do the same I would never be able to live with myself. Suffice to say I had a lot, and so did everybody else, and there was much drunken shannigannery. There was head-butting, fake fights, hurdling of the fire, I tackled my girlfriend on the dance floor...etc. A bunch of things guys do when you give them beer and open space.
Toward the end of the night, I was sparring with my girlfriend and one of my friends walked up behind me and slapped my ass.
Now, Brian is not a big man. He's maybe 5'7" and 130 pounds--probably less. But he's fast. So I turned around, and he bolted. I followed him outside into the field and he ran toward the campfire. Right before I caught up to him, he turned back to look at me and I saw the fear of God in his eyes because I was about to lay him out.
And that's when he bounced off the big ass black grill, nearly invisible in the night, especially if you are drunk and sprinting and not watching where the fuck you are going. He spun around and I bowled into him. I got up and he just layed there. I thought, at first, that I had broken his collarbone or something but he just layed there grabbing his crotch. I thought, okay so I hit him in the nuts by accident, he'll be fine in a little bit. I quickly lost interest and walked away, not noticing the big crowd surrounding Brian.
A few minutes later we all got on the buses and drove back to campus, and my girlfriend and I walked to her place for the night.
The next day I came back to the house around 2 in the afternoon, and as is wont to happen, I remembered little from the night before. I walked up to my room and was greeted in the hall by my friend Paul: "Hey, how you doin, dick ripper?"
Me: "Um, good... Did you just call me dick ripper?"
M "And, why?"
P "You didn't hear? Brian had to go to the hospital last night. You put a huge gash in his weiner."
I sent Brian a text message: "Hey, are you doing alright?"
He sends back, "yeah im fine, dont sweat it." No fucking way he's brushing this off.
I text back: "Are you sure? I heard you had to go to the hospital."
"Yeah I had to get some stitches on my dick. but im fine. ill just have a nice scar later."
No fucking way.
I found out over the next few minutes that when Brian bounced off the grill, he hit it with his crotch and partially severed his penis. Seriously -- his dick got knocked halfway off. He said he felt no pain right away, but a wet sensation. He was bleeding, bad.
He didn't get on the buses with us. One of our guys is a paramedic, and when he looked at it he immediately called an ambulance to come pick them up and they went out to some podunk country hospital where, scarily enough, nobody on the night shift had ever tied somebody's dick back on before.
Brian, for the next month at least, can not have sex or jerk off. He has to saran wrap his tool every time he wants to take a shower because the sutures will fall out if they get wet. My primary concern for Brian was not one of these things, though; it was the idea that getting a boner would possibly be the most painful thing he's ever experienced. I don't know about anybody else, but I get about 17 narbs an hour, and it only gets worse if I havent had sex or masturbated lately. So I asked Brian about it and he said, "um, it's kind of weird how it's working right now. When I get a boner, the bottom half of the shaft inflates and the top just kind of curls up."
The conversation I got to have with Brian and his girlfriend (who does not go to our school and does not get to visit often) was not a fun one. Her mood got better when it was suggested that Brian can now focus on her needs exclusively for a little while. "I think this just gives Brian an opportunity to get really, really good at something."
Christ. I can't imagine what I would do with a half-severed weiner. I guess I'm relieved he didn't lose the whole thing. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. And honestly, I dont know how he reacted so non chalantly because if somebody did that to me...I would kill him.
Unrelated: another of my friend's got so drunk that when his girlfriend went home without telling him, he walked into the parking lot yanking on car doors screaming about needing to find her. He didn't even know who was in the cars. When they drove away, he held on and they dragged him at least 50 yards down the street. He came back to the house all disheveled and bleeding, and says, "I got hit by a car man, I need to go to the hospital...but first I need to find my fucking girlfriend." But he never finds her (she's already passed out at her apartment by this time) and when he gets to the hospital he's so belligerent and unruly that they sent him to the mental ward for the night.
Fuck those people though, I had a good time.
I'm choosing not to include a picture of a lacerated penis.
Enjoy this picture of golden retriever puppies instead.
in lieu of ripped peeners.jpg