where hypotheses come to die (madman101) wrote,
where hypotheses come to die
madman101

Pull my finger.

When I lived in Philadelphia, I was besieged by CFS.  I got bizarre itches; painful aversion to light like a vampire; fatigue of course; I had to leave my job; I became homeless, etc.  Desperate for money, I participated in medical studies.  One study pitted me against a prisoner.  We were both given something intravenously.  One got the drug, one got a placebo.  I obviously got the drug cuz I got fucked up.  Pissed me off that the prisoner thought all this was just a little holiday, lol.

The drug made me comfortably and painfully numb.  I was living in a cloud of the devil's mucous.  I remember walking through the inner city, being harassed by some kind of jackinapes, and being completely impervious to them.  They thought I was Superman or gun-man.  The secret to survival is the same one for getting killed: Stupidly have no fear.

I had no interest in sex, because the drug overrode that circuit.  But my manhood was flaccid yet engorged.  Largish even while torpid, shall we say.  I love these words I've learnt over the years.  Anyway, I apply for some OTHER medical study.  They ask me to go into a room and get into a medical gown, and the doctor will be in to see me soon...

At that time, I had no idea how to wear a medical gown, or why it even existed.  I thought the most important thing was that it kept peoples' asses from contacting surfaces.  So, obviously, I wore my gown backwards.  Of course.  The doctor came in and talked and examined me.  And I'm sitting there, with the medical gown split down the front, almost fully engorged.  Splayed out upon the table - casually yet dramatically.  I guess it seemed like, "I'm a MAN and I don't GIVE a fuck!"

But, I'm more like, "See.  I am actually progressive, just like in my head."

At the end of the examination, the doctor said thank you, and, "Thank you for letting me SEE you, smiley wink."  Well, she didn't really wink, but she smiled and looked downward.  Science!  And, for some reason, everyone in the place seemed to be all giggly and chatty after that.  Funny.  Yet I was in such a living hell that this crazy faux pas hardly even registered on my embarrassment scale.

My penis is like my big dog.  God gave me a good one.  Sadly, it never gets out.  And ya wonder.  What is it there for?
Tags: my embarrassing moments, my penis
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