Manbearpig
Good lord, I have never seen anything quite like that in my life.
(Hanargh, Thu 20 Jul 2006, 9:01, Reply)

Back Fanny
Last November, whilst in my final year of uni I spent a large amount of time sitting down doing my dessertation. Or looking at t'internet pron. Can't remember which, really... Anyhoo, One morning I awoke with a rather sore coxics. I just passed it off as a drunken injury.

The pain got worse over the next couple of days, and a mate recommended I see the doc. During the exam, I was told to drop me keks and bend over the examination bed, whilst the female doc poked around my bumcrack with her gloved hands. "Aaah, Mr Manbearpig, it appears you have a pilonidal sinus". WTF is that?
She explains I have an abcess at the top of my cleft, and it should clear up with the course of antibiotics she prescribes me.
Cue several days of unbearable pain, and increasing sickness as the antibiotics and infection take hold. I couldn't sit, stand, walk or lie down, so I smoked rather a lot in an attempt to numb the pain but that just made me worse.

After about a week, I was leaning forward and trying to put on my socks, when I felt a sharp pain from said abcess. As I put my hand down my crack, I feel a rather large amount of liquid. Upon sniffing, I decide I've shat myself and go to the bathroom only to notice my abcess has burst.

Being someone who has always enjoyed squeezing spotsd, I decide to clear all the gunk out and manage to spray the mirror, toilet and wall with a fine jet of foul-smelling, grey/bloody fluid. I get no better over the next couple of days, and anything that I eat or drink comes straight back up.

The folks are getting a bit worried, and my Pa tells me to head down to London where a friend of his will arrange an immediate appointment to check it out. As soon as his doctor friend sees it, I am whipped into surgery after having a drip hooked up to me. ("Have you eaten anything within the last 6 hours?", "Nope, but it's not for lack of trying. Fook, get me a bowl.... bleeargh!")

Usual surgery/hospital shiteness, but the best bit was when I got home. The dressings had to be changed, and the whole family was gathered round to take a look, as well as the family of one of my dad's climbing friends. Gasps and oohs and aahs, I wanted to know how bad it is. So dear Pa takes a photo, and says "Christ son, I never realised you were such a cnut!"

Here's the pic for you

Click for a massively scary back fanny size

Apologies for length, but I'm sure it'd fit up there

EDIT: The arse is the right way up, the abcess is at the top of my arse crack. BTW, it's puss in there, not any dodgy man-based substances. Just to clarify...
(Manbearpig is wearing a rabbitskin jacket and bunny ears, Thu 20 Jul 2006, 6:24, Reply)

Penis punching
Probably every guy here has done the thing where you accidentally walk crotch-first into the corner of a table, with the end result of excruciating testicular pain. Well, back when my older brother was in high school, a friend of his did this, but luckily only knocked his cock on the table corner. Since it didn't hurt, he concluded out loud "it doesn't hurt if you only hit your dick!"

To illustrate this to his gathered friends, my brother amongst them, he stuck his hand down his pants, cupped his penis in his hand, and before anyone could say "you're an idiot" proceeded to punch himself as hard as possible in the old John Thomas.

He spent the next twenty minutes lying in a foetal position while his mates laughed their heads off.
(oball needs Satan more than he needs me, Thu 20 Jul 2006, 4:43, Reply)

Kidney Stones = Excruciating Goolie Pain
I suffer the misfortune of kidney stones on a fairly regular basis. Kidney stones are a conglomeration of calcium crystals that develop in the kidney. To give you an idea of their shape, think a small rock consisting solely of sharp edges. To give you an idea of the level of agony they can provide, a urologist once told me that kidney stones were the worst pain one could have without dying. Nothing I have ever felt has ever given me reason to disbelieve him.

When a stone develops in the kidney it can do one of two things: get stuck in the kidney or the ureter, necessitating surgery; or pass slowly through the ureter and eventually leave the body through the urine stream, aka through the end of the john thomas. Most leave through the second option.

So after a few weeks of slow, excruciating movement towards the tip of the old fella, they finally seem ready to be pissed out. This usually happens when I am in polite company. As doctors like me to keep any stones so they can analyse them, I have to ask someone in the household "Do you have a container you no longer need?" (to catch the stone in so I don't have to fish it out of the bowl).

I then make my way to the toilet, and amid screams and shrieks of pain, I finally pass a kidney stone (or two). By this stage I'm wimpering loud enough to cause the local dogs to bark. If there was a merciful God, the stone would just come out but sometimes they like to get caught in the Jap's eye opening. If this happens, then I, as gently as possible, try to yank the bastard out. Although the temptation is always there to crush the stone while screaming "DIE YOU FUCKER, DIE" for all the pain it caused, one always resists and places it in the specimin container with the other stones that have passed through my system. When I finally leave the bathroom, sweating and pale, I tend to show people the stone lest they think the screaming, shrieking, whimpering, and sweating is because I have been in their bathroom masturbating like a wild chimpanzee. Someone who once saw me pass a stone told me that my look at the critical stone passing moment is hilarious; they likened it to Terry Scott's response when he was shown the size of the document he had to smuggle out in his rectum in "Carry on Henry".

Someone once wrote here that they felt like "a freshly raped dog" after taking a sizeable dump. I can only say that no turd I have ever taken, no matter how hostile or gargantuan, can ever compare to the feeling of a piece of jagged rock making its way from the kidney, down through the ureter and out of the tip of your wedding tackle.

And to make matters worse, kidney stones will block fluid from leaving through the kidney, leaving it with really only option. Yes, one can also look forward to the sore diarrhorea arse as well.
(Hammer of Justice, Thu 20 Jul 2006, 3:49, Reply)

The new plasma screen..
Ok so as a first post, I may as well regail something upon you all that, though didn't involve my nether regions personally.. still leaves a lasting mark in my mind.

A while ago, my parents were proud to be the new owners of a brand spanking new Hitatchi 60" Flatpanel TV. Naturally you weren't allowed within breathing distance of it for a while.. but all was about to change when I went downstairs one night..

So there I was, 2:34am, I went downstairs to get a cold drink on such a hot night and heard a muffled screeching laughter comming from the living room.. I walk in to find my brother crying with laughter into a pillow while his friend Hulio proceeded to press his spam javelin up against the new screen, specifically aimed at Cameron Diaz's face. Not realising how incredibly hot the screen can get, he ended up with 2nd degree burns on his bellend and cried for almost half an hour. I went to bed and left an aching Hulio holding a bag of mashed potato Shepards Pie mix on his todger to cool the burning. I woke up the next morning to find my mother cleaning the living room.. and she let out a tut saying "Somebody's got their sticky mits on my new telly!". I knew instantly that this was Hulio's burnt skin and penis juice burnt on the screen, and she was so innocently none the wiser that she proceeded to wipe it off with her hand. I fell to the floor with a sickened laughter, almost wretching I made it to the toilet and hurled for England, when asking me what was wrong I told her I'd felt ill all night and was getting the rest out of my system, I hadn't the heart to tell her what was stuck to her hand.

A few hours later I smell dinner cooking, I go downstairs to investigate and low and behold, what's cooling on the side? Shepards fucking pie.

Moral of that story is, always, always tell your mother she's just wiped up cock juice.
( The Gentleman Bastard waxing lyrical. ©, Thu 20 Jul 2006, 1:08, Reply)

'lectric shaver mishap
While preparing for a night in with the missus I began to shave my bollocks. Rather than go for the Bic and risk cutting myself I opted for my shitty electric razor with less life in it then a cancer victim.

I'd done the area above my shaft and moved on to my scrotum. While I was adding the finishing touches my razor decided to die on me and catch a large amount of scrat skin in the razor.

I knew the situation I was in and since i'd consumed a few bottles of beer I knew there was only one way out. I yanked the razor from my testicles and took a fair amount of skin with it....and yes it fucking hurt.

It didn't stop me from fucking later that night. It also didn't stop me from taking a picture of my cock and balls (with a very visable cut I might add) and sending it to me girlfriend who showed all her mates my scrotal scar. Gawd, I love her!

Length? Girth? Are you sure you wouldn't rather see the scar on my groin?
(Peter Sutcliffe's Right Bollock, Thu 20 Jul 2006, 0:44, Reply)

once
I punched myself in the bollocks.
once i also got a cricket ball thrown at them and i forgot to catch the ball before it hit me,

happy days!
( Sellers funkie not junkie, Thu 20 Jul 2006, 0:41, Reply)

Doc's Examination
An *ahem* internal examination after a miscarriage. 'nuf said?

Length? It's girth that counts.
(Lupetherabbit Went straight into smirk mode on, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 23:24, Reply)

Clumsy gardening
In addition to shaving/waxing etc I also like to keep the remaining hair on my privates nice and trim. To do this I used to (unwisely) use a small pair of scissors. On the last occasion of doing this I misjudged slightly and cut a little triangle into my clitoris.

It didn't hurt too much really, although there was large amount of nausia and wobbly-leggedness involved immediately afterwards at the thought of what I'd just done. Didn't bleed much either, but I was rather tender and bruised for a few days! Any pressure at all felt like needles in my most treasured area, which made pretty much any perambulatory movement at all somewhat challenging. I'd been "tidying up" down there in readiness for a weekend away with Mr Pance, who to this day still forbids me to talk about it in his presence as it makes him all queasy. Needless to say, there wasn't much action that weekend.

I now use one of them fancy electronic clipper jobbies for ladies.
(VestanPance, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 22:17, Reply)

Jimmy SuperFly Snuka
When i was 10 and after watching WWF Star jimmy superfly snuka hurl himself from the top rope, i decided it was a fantastic idea to do that to my little sister who was sitting on the otherside of the couch, i jumped missed and hit the very base of my penis on the armrest, crying in agony i check and it looked like it was close to falling off. many tears and stiches later my old boy is fine.
until this monday when i go for a pee and find out my GF has now just given me genital warts

Bugger....

apologies for length, girth and cauliflower lumps
(mcgillp2k, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 21:06, Reply)

you lot..
you know nothing of hurt nads. my tales will put you all to shame.

yours truly.
Lance Armstrong.
( Gerbilinafishtank Gerbil in a fish tank...TURTLE POWER!, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 20:53, Reply)

Not me either
But too clenchingly horrific not to share - I'm surprised they haven't been mentioned yet.

Google "Rectal impalement by pirate ship: A case report". Yum.

It gets better.

If you look up that paper one of the references is to someone who shoved a live eel up his back passage (to cure constipation, he said. Well, the thought of it's cured mine...). It tried to chew its way out. Google "Traumatic rectal perforation by an eel". If you must. If you're very very er lucky you might even find photos....
(littlesunshine licked your blinky diodes on, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 19:54, Reply)

not sure where to start
I've had many minor mishaps involving my lady bits, happily none have involved hospitalisation or making of awkward excuses to Dr's/parents...also, I seem to know a lot of people who have all manner of bad things happen to their most precious of parts.
1. cut myself shaving, in...places
2. friction burns from doing the nasty...what can I say, lube only goes so far...
3. causing friction burns on the manbeast's knob...heehee
4. (not me, but various mates...) Suffering the pain and indignity that is an STD test...this involves a delightful medical instrument known as an umbrella...shoved down the urethra (on both sexes), the end opens up, hence 'umbrella' and is pulled back out, scraping the inside out to get cell sample to be tested. Nasty.
5. Pinching labia on plastic tampon applicator (this was me)...I've done that tons of times, you'd think I would learn.
6. having my snatch ground to a pulp betwixt pubic bone and metal hand-rail on the stairs at school... you know when everyone is trying to get up or down the stairs at once, and everyone is shoving from every direction? Dunno if that was just at my shitty school, or that happened everywhere.
7. My ex getting nasty sounding, painful lump on bollocks...dunno what happened with that, as this occurred after we broke up, haha... though he seems to be still alive, so I'm guessing it was nothing too bad....Bah.
8. Introduction of spooge to delicate nasal passages...this seems to happen a lot.

Length? Girth? bring it on...
(Ryuken-Kai, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 19:11, Reply)

I love my penis,
I used to own the coolest looking air gun, this was before all the fuss over dangerous weapons in the UK. Not that you could do any damage with it of course, a point blank shot to my friends thumb resulted in him just laughing it off.
No, the real danger with this particular handgun was in the loading. It was a complex system of forcing the barrel up and over the front sight and inserting a pellet. Being a weedy chap I needed some assistance with the leverage, so I used to erm... hold the gun between my thighs and use both hands. Inventive yes but You can probably guess what comes next.
Yeah boy, one fateful night my hands slipped and the barrel came down on my penis with some nasty force.
To my credit I didn't cry, just let out a few odd squeaks. I didn't even notice the damage until my hysterical mates saw the blood. I ran home as my little fellah began to throb quite alarmingly and locked myself in the bathroom until the bleeding stopped. Told my folks I'd been mugged, gave the gun away and celebrated my next erection with a naked dance around the house, no lasting damage except for a tiny tiny scar which only close, close friends have seen.
Oh yeah, and my so called mates told everyone I'd "shot my nob off in a freak gun related accident." The gits.
(Suddenly, zebras Safe and sound for eternity, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 19:03, Reply)

Swimming Trunks offer the best support
Okay, so a snagged frenulum is quite common from reading these posts (btw gentleman, the only way to successfully avoid its recurrence is to have a circumcision - some of your descriptions of zip damage pale into insignificance on seeing big black stitching and gaping woundage around your head. My ever so funny doctor advised me against having erections 'for a while' - like we can help it!)

But a vasectomy while not exactly majorly painful was v. weird. You know from the pressure (not the pain, the local takes care of that) that your testicles themselves are outside your scrotum and are being sliced into. The next thing is the smell of burning flesh as they cauterize the ends of the interstitial tubes. Then afterwards you see the black and blue bruising which makes you look like your plums have been in a vice. But the worst thing ever about the whole experience was being told I needed a pant with a 'stronger gusset' - makes me blush just thinking about it.
(steffysaurus, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 18:03, Reply)

Ahh, the pain..
Was out one night with the missus, and we were slightly lashed, and most certainly hornier than a bag of rhinos.

Thus, we walk/break into a park and do it on the picnic table. She is more than vigorous, and a good time is had by all.

Upon arriving home, the dull ache that I had put off as a damn fine shag had slowly turned into the feeling of several exploding suns.

Upstairs I went, and took my trousers down.

Having not taken them down or off during sex, and just poked my cock through the zip, my missus had successfully sawed into my cock with the teeth on the zip, and butchered a good inch round the base. You could actually see the pattern of the zip, and each individual tooth where it had rubbed through and removed all of the skin.

Suffice it to say, as it healed, not only could I not have sex for most of a month, but the missus found great delight in my screams of agony at any fast groin movement or arousal, which she didn't help by acting sexy all the time.

Apologies for slightly scarred length and girth, but you dont notice it anymore unless you look really closely..
(fantomex, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 17:30, Reply)

Not so much self inflicted.
Not self inflicted, but a biological product of that evil bitch Mother Nature.
Apparently we contract virus's all the time but the bulk of them don't affect us.
On ocassion though, one will cause a side effect.
Epididymitis anyone?

"Epididymitis causes swelling of the scrotum, pain in the testicles" the medical encyclopedia tells me.

Oh bloody really! That would explain why, when I stood up that it felt like someone had nailed my plums to the chair.

Length, girth? I should coco.
(Le Grenouille, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 17:16, Reply)

Frying Pan Arse...
Not me, but Nigel - a young scout attending his first 2 week camp away from home. Whilst cooking breakfast, one of the scouts caught the frying pan alight and 'lobbed' (technical scouting term) the pan into the grass. The fire went out quickly, so along comes nigel and thinks as the grass is still wet with the mornings dew, I'll sit on the pan to stay dry. Que much screaming from injury known as chip pan arse syndrome....

He later managed to trip over and land face/mouth first onto a wooden tent peg. The first words to pass his bloody, swollen lips were 'oosan noosan doosan susan' - or at least thats what it sounded like, of which he was constantly reminded over the next 5 years!

Poor old nige, hello if your reading!
(Hugh.G.Rection Brother to Clendrix......., Wed 19 Jul 2006, 16:24, Reply)

Twanging One's Banjo
....is when an uncut young man, rips the part of his foreskin from the place where it attaches at the base of the glans penis(bell, helmet, whatever)

It usually coincides with an episode of vigorous sexual intercourse. Consequently, the engorged member bleeds profusely!

I did it aged 18 and thought I'd bleed to death, and/or never use the spam javelin again.

Happily it recovers quickly. It's very common, a number of my mates experienced the same horror!
(g0atboy, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 15:18, Reply)

Aladdin insane
I had an impovorised childhood (sob!)and my family lived in a small flat above a shop. Heating the small kitchen/front room was an old round "Aladdin" paraffin stove about the height of a stool. Although I was well used to this heater and it's use in life, for some reason when I was around 5yrs old or so and getting ready for bed one evening I promptly sat on top of it. Where the heat all comes out. Dressed only in my vest. Got up a LOT quicker to the sounds of my dear old Mum's stifled laughter.
(niknak, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 15:00, Reply)

run run chafe chafe
it's been pretty hot recently. so i am going to blame my recent stupidity on the weather....

after enjoying a family bike ride which lasted all day, i decided that i'd like to fit a run in at the end of the day. for some reason, i didn't bother to change out of my cut off pants into a nice pair of running shorts.

so off i went - plod plod run run (chafe chafe) for 5k.

drank a litre of water after 2.5k and decided a really should get back.

run run plod plod (chafe chafe)

got home, much the sweatier and whipped of the troos to find that the pants had worn away the skin in a nearly complete circle around my body running right through my pubes. no real blood, just no real skin either. so. here i am three days later in agony every time i get undressed as my body tries to grow into the band of my boxers. loverly matt of scab and hair and now bits of fluff.

sting!

lh
(localhost, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 14:45, Reply)

I got stung not once, not twice, but THRICE on the behind by the same wasp when I was about twelve. The first time hurt quite poignantly, but I was in the middle of a football game during school lunchbreak, and I didn't actually know that there was a [very unfortunate] wasp having misadventures in my kecks, so I bit my lip and swallowed the pain. Afterall, when you're a twelve year old fella out to prove your worth on the football field, it's quite important that you -don't- start running in circles, clutching your bum in both hands and screaming like a girl. I don't know why -- that's just the politics of the playground.

Anyway, the wayward wasp proceeded to sting me a second time, and it was only when the lunch bell had been rung and I'd been herded back to the classroom that I sat down heavily on the afforementioned bottom and recieved the third and final sting, that I realised I must have had an intruder in my underpants. Sure enough, when I got home and inspected my rear in the bathroom mirror I discovered the spent wasp and three deep red welts, all standing proud on one buttock.

Knowing the cause of the pain made it infinitely harder to sit down, whereas before it was merely an irritation.
(Text_Fish -- Humourcide., Wed 19 Jul 2006, 13:41, Reply)

Old man of the forest
A patient of mine's husband went for a vasectomy but due to natural reluctance on part of said tickle to be clipped, some damage was done. This resulted in such swelling that the whole area resembled an Orangutan's face. The nurses drained a yoghurt pot full of puss (why a yoghurt pot I'm not sure - NHS cuts or something). Chipper in the face of adversity, he said he had to laugh, as it was the only time anyone had ever whipped off his pants and exclaimed 'Oh. My. God.'
(Countryslicker, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 13:20, Reply)

I managed to chop my own knob off with a meat cleaver in front of my friends
It was humiliating at the time, but I no longer feel a cock.
( the_other_jeff_lebowski Croutons on my tits, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 13:20, Reply)

Cheddar Gorge
Summer of 1998 saw a trip to Cheddar Gorge in Somerset. I made it to the top no problem but suddenly something went horribly wrong in my scrote. The trip back down to the car park was an agonising and slow affair with my mates rushing ahead wondering why I was suddenly walking at a slow pace with a sweaty grey complexion and a locked jaw. I hobbled into a toilet cubicle and dropped my trousers to discover that my right bollock had twisted horizontally and was now protruding forward of my penis by about 2 inches! A bit of painful twisting later and I had it back round the right way after which the pain diminished incredibly quickly.
Striding back to the car with my gait returned to normal I told my mates about my testicular woes. We named the condition ‘Cheddar Gorge’.
Although it used to happen occasionally when I was younger it has stopped altogether now thankfully.
One thing that never happened was a ‘Cheddar Show Caves’ where one bollock disappears up inside the body, something I live in constant fear of to this day…

Hi, I’m new here.
(Phelpsy Bollocks trapped behind radiator since, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 12:45, Reply)

Perineal Trauma
It's my first time, be gentle with my bits...

Some years back on a stag weekend on Torquay, we were doing the Saturday morning golf ritual at the local pitch and putt. At the last hole, I hit my ball way too far and it went over the railings. These were only half-height ones, with a bottom rail, a top rail at just below waist height and a flat-topped spike on top. I made it over OK to retrieve my ball by stepping ont he top rail, but on the way back, realised that the the gap from bottom rail to top of spike was a couple of inches longer than my inside leg. That's when my foot slipped and I found myslef dangling, feet in the air with a spike in between my legs.

Managed to peel myself off, felt underneath that my jeans had been ripped and thought 'Phew that was close - could have been nasty!' as the morning progressed however, nasty it most certainly became.

Anyway, tried a couple of pints to anaesthetise it but had to go back to the hotel because of the pain, couldn't pee because of the swelling, went to A&E and got told to wait in the cubicle and try to pee into a jug (case notes listed it as 'Perineal trauma' i.e. the bits that girlies sometimes have to have snipped when giving birth). Couldn't for a couple of hours so they admitted me overnight.

Cue procession of doctors and nurses coming round for a peek at the damage - overnight the bruises appeared - all the way up to the small of my back and all the way to the end of the old feller - all in the pre-digital camera days thank God!
(clouseau999, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 12:30, Reply)

Internal affairs.
Thanks to an abnormal smear test result I'm now a regular visitor to our local hospital's Obs and Gynae department and I've had the rare "priviledge" of seeing my cervix on a large TV screen on several occasions.

On my most recent visit I was feeling charitable and agreed to have a student "sit in" on the whole undignified affair. I thought I was doing my bit for the education of the medical professionals of the future and as she was a girlie I figured she'd be sympathetic to my cause.

How wrong I was! The speculum (for the uninitiated - the stretching device) was unceremoniously shoved in and beaten against my cervix inorder to get a good view. My pink and squishy innards were scraped, stretched and pinched by the embarrased student whilst the disapproving senior Doctor lady tutted from the corner of the room. The pain from her inexperienced mangling was worse than the injections and cutting I'd had to endure on an earlier visit.

To be fair to the poor girl it can't have been very easy as according to the nurse who gave me my very first smear test - I have a "long vagina". A fact of which I'm strangely proud.

No more students doctors for me.

Length? I can take it, even though it's my first time...
( e.m.m.y. foxtrot uniform charlie kilo india tango, Wed 19 Jul 2006, 12:02, Reply)