Blogger Bill

When I was a kid in Kalgoorlie, WA, and then in the Melbourne bay side suburb of Carrum I often went to the movies. Like everyone else, I was overwhelmed by films from Hollywood or England. All films seems to have a thread of romance. We boys just wanted everyone to just get on with the comedy routines, or gun fights, fist fights, car chases, plane crashes and what have you.

But there was always a woman involved, and the hero usually had this romantic entanglement. There’d be the physical contact - a squeeze, a hug, a hesitant kiss, often with appropriately syrupy music in the background. All the girls like that stuff, and most of the boys just started getting restless - rolling Jaffas along the lino floor, and so on - they wanted to see the action!

A very common scenario depicted in many of these films involved the hero smoodging up to the love interest, and then after a harmless kiss, she’d look shocked, dismayed, disgusted, and give him a slap on the face, or go off in a huff!

I really took on board that a girl would reject me if I approached her with romantic intent - not sex - just the cuddle and kiss bit. But I always assumed that girls, and later, women, would treat me the same as the Hollywood women on the big screen. ‘That’s what they all do!’, I thought. ‘Faced with the realities of the nefarious plans of men and boys, they all react with horror’. And that’s all because a kid wanted a girl to give him a harmless kiss and a hug. ‘there are things going on here that I just do not comprehend.’ (Even as a small boy I tended to use sophisticated language…)

That’s affected me all my life.

This fear complex didn’t even involve sex per se, although I certainly extrapolated it to the idea of sex. Anyway, in 1965 I got married and in due course we had 3 children, so something was working in my favour. But throughout my marriage, which is still happy and solid, at the age of seventy, the fear of rejection is still very potent.

That is because over those long years I did suffer a good deal of rejection, in bed and otherwise, and from my observations it’s a common thing in marriages - particularly as the years roll by. And even though I’m functionally impotent after a radical prostatectomy for cancer, it still hurts like hell. It’s dogged me all my life, and although I’d like to be tough and not let it matter, it still does!

A major source of this feeling has to be attributed to my mother’s attitude to sex and romance. My mother (and her sisters) always did two things.

Firstly, they evinced a very worldly-wise attitude, as though they’d been around and knew everything. but as the years rolled by and I learned more, it was clear that they were in fact quite ignorant of many aspects of sex and romance. An only child, I copped all that stuff by the bucket load, so I finished up pretty screwed up. Not really their fault, because they were children of their time, born in the early 1900s. Their stance was pretty well the norm in the 1950s. My dad didn’t do much at all either way - he just stayed neutral, but was certainly no help to me.

Secondly, my mother kept an eagle eye open for any sign of sexuality on my part. For example, sitting in the bath tub one night, I had an erection, which was pretty common for a fourteen-year old boy. At that age, the thing usually has a mind of its own. It (the erection) simply occurred spontaneously without any help from me. Mum, espying the offending phenomenon, said: ‘what’s that doing up?!’

I can’t for the life of me remember what I said, but I distinctly remember the wave of shame and embarrassment that rolled over me. If I could have crawled down the plug-hole I would have done so!

Today I remember that with a great sense of anger that she did that to me, tinged with compassion that she knew no better. For whatever reason, she simply had a jaundiced view of male sexual functioning. What was I supposed to do, hit it with a cold wet face washer saying ‘Oh my God! Where did that come from? Down, down, you monster!!’?

A year or so later, with the collusion of a school pal, I discovered how to masturbate to climax. ‘Wow! This is pretty good!’, I thought. So I did it, simply because I could. That resulted in yellowish stains in my pajamas that were hard to wash out! At the same time, I became enmeshed in the serpentine coils of a Pentecostal church, which, like all evangelical churches, was heavy on the sinfulness and guilt associated with sex.

And so I’d have a lovely old masturbate in bed, then fervently pray to God to be forgiven for what I’d just done (and basically intended to do again and again!) And then on wash-day, my mother would peg out the pajamas with the steadily expanding indelibly yellowish zone around the fly for all to see up on the clothes line for the world to see, like a banner that read: ‘This dirty, filthy, depraved, hypocritical little born-again Christian pulls himself off every night and will go to Hell!!’

About 13 years later I did get out from under the baleful spell of churches and all their guilt-laden crap, and moved out of home as soon as I was married. But, would you believe, when we got married we were still both virgins! Even though we had plenty of opportunities, we ’stayed pure’, regardless of all the lascivious thoughts going on with us both. That was due to the guilt and ignorance induced in us both by our parents and by the churches. Neither of us ever got rid of the psychologically crippling effect of those powerful forces in our lives.

Consequently, the erotic side of our marriage remained very problematical up to this very day. Whose fault is that? Probably no-one’s: it’s just the way it turned out - Sigh!

As I have already blogged almost ad nauseum, I had my cancerous prostate gland completely removed in January. For interest’s sake here are the results of a scan done by the pathologist on the removed organ.

cancer (black) in my sliced-up prostate gland

I’m not quite sure how the slices add up to the offending gland, but you can get the general idea.

The healthy tissues are shown, appropriately, in pink, whereas the nasty, villanous cancer trying to hijack my body are shown in black.

The cancer was spread around a bit, but doesn’t appear to have spread beyond the prostate. The section near bottom left is a region where the cancer goes closer to the edge, but a microscopic examination of that edge apparently shows that the cancer cells do not go beyond it.

That is a great relief!

The cancer growth had a Gleason rating of 7, which means moderately aggressive, so I’m better off without the prostate.

All I have to do is get control of my water-works and life will be a bowl of cherries.

Dare I hope for any retention of my modest erectile power?

Well, I came home from hospital Saturday, together with my urine bag strapped to my leg with elastic fabric. I slept well with that attached to a larger ‘night bag’, which had one litre of blood-stained urine in it. So far, so good. I slept OK using the CPAP mask to help my breathing. I am getting used to this leg bag. I’d better, because it will be on until Feb. 7th.

The operation was successful. The prostate gland was removed together with some sort of ‘adhesion’ to its left. he operation lasted five and a half hours, with my head down at an angle. That made me look like a puffed up bullfrog for 24 hours! The unfortunate result from the surgical removal will be more nerve damage than hoped for. What that means I do not know.

My urologist today tells me I have a greatly enlarged prostate gland, with 3 out of 12 biopsy samples showing cancer cells with a Gleason score of 7 on a scale from 2 to 10 (worst case 10). This means that I have a relatively aggressive prostate cancer.

Given my age of 68, with my state of health being quite good, and longevity in the family, he recommends total removal of the prostate and the seminal vesicles. This is called “radical prostatectomy“.

He offers operation by laparoscopy using a robotic system controlled by the surgeon, namely him, Dr S. Sengupta. This gives least trauma and speediest recovery. He has trained recently at the Mayo Clinic, New York. I have accepted his advice, but was not pressured to do so. The alternatives were “watchful waiting”, radiology, or more invasive, older surgical methods. There are pros and cons to all of this.

The operation will occur during the week starting January 15th. It will take half a day in the operating theatre, but I will be in hospital up to a week, followed by many week’s convalescence at home, initially with a urinary catheter in place. I will have have a very small chance of continuing urinary incontinence in the long run.

It is pretty well certain that I will have greatly reduced or zero erectile ability, since the body’s source of testosterone will be removed. I am told that that can be remedied with Viagra, but considering that our sexual relationship has been moribund for over seven years, that will not be necessary - at least, not at home.

I think I can cope with all of the above. Now, I do have top medical and hospital private health insurance, but it seems that this method is not well covered. Consequentially, I will have to pay out-of-pocket medical expenses adding up to more than $8000!! I do not have ready access to such a sum.

I will have to take a bank loan to consolidate my current circumstances and expand to cover this new situation.

This will be a substantial blow, but not nearly as serious as choosing inaction, then only to find that my PSA level rises some years further down the track, with concomitant spread of this known cancer to other organs. Best be rid of the source now and for ever!

I can cope with a loan, but not with the uncertainty to my health.

I am really pissed off with the way things are turning out, because as regards sex, I had a lousy, screwed-up childhood and adolescence and a sexually disappointing marriage and sex in general. But that wasn’t really her fault, and most probably mine. Let me just say that I reckon that I have had only 1% of the sex that I would have liked in my life, and very little of that was really good.

I blame the stupid churches and their political and social hangers-on. Go to Hell, the lot of you! Damn you with your pathetic, infantile, cruel, crude “beliefs”. And I was one for 12 years, too!!

What a waste of good life energy!!

The urologist phoned late today to tell me that of the 12 biopsy samples taken last Friday, 4 show signs of cancer. Tomorrow I am to phone his office to make an appointment so that we can discuss treatment options.

I am dealing with this reasonably well. It could be nasty, advanced and full of grief for me. On the other hand, I suspect that it has been caught early on, and am pretty confidant, from my casual reading, that these types of cancers can be dealt with pretty successfully.

I am a little bit shaken to know that some cells in my battered old body have decided to go feral, and that, given their head, they will kill me. Of course, given enough time, my whole body will collapse into a festering old heap. But as my father died in his 80s (Parkinson’s), my mother age 101 (peritonitis), I was kinda hoping for a bit of longevity to play with.

However, now I had better do what I have been meaning to do for years - that is - tidy up all the junk I have around me, so that if I am to get really ill I don’t finish up leaving it for my wife and kids!

Oh - and yes! - I will really make the effort to hawk myself and my keyboard around to any places that will have me playing the jazz that I enjoy!

This is a true story. It happened to my daughter last week in downtown Glen Waverley, Victoria.

Leanne was driving along a darkened suburban street when she saw a car without lights slowly back out of a driveway across the street and gently roll to a stop. It still had no lights and was blocking the road.

Leanne got out and walked up to the car. As she approached it she could see moving arms and legs. She thought that someone was having a fit or a heart attack.

Then she saw a girl with her top pulled up, exposing her knockers!

Leanne knocked on the window and said “Are you alright?”
The girl said: “Do you mind!! We are trying to have a fuck!!”
The feller giggled. Well he might, because the young woman was struggling to get off him!

Leanne sensed that the girl was “off her face” on some drug, informed them they were blocking the road and walked off, leaving them to it.

As she watched, the car lights came on and it started, moving slowly off up a nearby side street.

The moral of this story is that if you are going to do the deed in a parked car, make sure you leave it in gear, and whatever you do, don’t knock the handbrake!!

Just when I thought I had heard and seen everything, I come across a new phrase. In a science forum I read, they have Friday funnies, when people send in some good jokes they’ve heard this week. Usually a good source of humour, too.

During the discussions, someone referred to the notion of a “donkey punch” . Never having heard the term before, I googled, of course, and netted a swag of references.

Hit number one gave me a Wikipedia reference. I have a lot of respect for Wikipedia, and had a look.

So, brace yourself, gentle reader!

“Donkey punch is a slang term for a sex move performed during doggy style vaginal or anal sex. The move involves the penetrating partner punching the penetrated partner in the back of the head or neck.”

Apparently the violence causes the “donkey’s” sphincters to contract suddenly, giving extra sexual pleasure to the “rider”.

Blow me down! I live and learn, even at the age of sixty-eight!

Well, all I can say is that I have never found sex so boring that I need to add to it!

What about you, gentle reader??

Did Eeyore have something going for him that Christopher Robin found alluring?

The day after I wrote that last item my wife Glenyce suffered severe trembling in bed, about 2 am. That lasted for almost an hour before her deep breathing helped to quell it.

When she went for a pee stop at 5am she noticed spots of bright red blood in the toilet bowl. That was pretty startling, to say the least.

I have been handling a very heavy head cold, and Glenyce and my daughter let me sleep in until about 9am, which was sweet of them. I had been drugged to the eyeballs with anti-cold medication on top of my normal lot!

When they told me that there was obviously something that needed medical attention, I sprang into action with all the alacrity I could muster, which was not a lot!

After breakfast we pushed off to drive to a private hospital some 20 minutes away. She was admitted and blood tests taken, ultrasound scans arranged, and urine samples coaxed out of her.

Although we have private health insurance costing about $3,000 per annum, out of pocket expenses for such an admittance is about $165. We have been here twice in the last 3 weeks! But the alternative is a trip to a big public hospital (Monash) where there would be a long wait to be seen, and hordes of people waiting to get in. We pay for the privilege of prompt attention and no over-crowding

Not a lot of fun! Our family has been there in Monash Casualty too often for comfort’s sake!

Cutting to the story: a possible bladder infection was diagnosed, antibiotics and saline drip inserted, elevated blood pressure and fever treated, and after I drove her from that hospital to another, Glenyce found herself in the same ward in the hospital (South Eastern Private Hospital) from which she had been discharged less than a fortnight ago!

The same doctor attended her, and next day pronounced that it was a similar infection from last fortnight, but by a milder bacterium. I hope they are right, and that Mr Streptoccus is not still lurking in some nook or cranny of darling Glenyce.

Three days later she came home, on oral antibiotics (Augmentin) that are now playing fast and loose with her gut. Emphasis on the “loose”! Stand by for oral and vaginal thrush in due course!

By the way, note that the word “gut” is used happily by medicos for that organ stretching from mouth to anus. There is even a medical journal called, quite simply “Gut“!

It’s strange, isn’t it, that I grew up in a world where the word “vagina” could never be uttered in company, let alone in public. And now it is uttered with complete abandon, when needed. What is more, there has been a one-woman show called “The Vagina Monologues“, travelling the world.

Probably not in Muslim countries, I imagine. And certain difficulties arose in some parts of the good old “US of A”! They don’t mind having their “good old boys” carrying out bombing runs, but draw the line at having the word “vagina” brazenly printed in theatre ads.

The web site of said “Vagina Monologues” seems now to have been converted to a vehicle for fighting violence against women and girls - especially in New York.

Another development was that a prominent writer on women’s sexuality, Dr Betty Dodson, was pretty annoyed at all the emphasis on the “vagina”. Doctor Betty is very big on the clitoris, which she says to be the real source of female sexual pleasure and fulfilment.

Her web site is well worth the visit, even for mere males. Be prepared to explore deeply - she has a lot to show and tell, especially about the joys of self-pleasuring. Anyway some barney or other happened between Dr Dodson and the author of the Monologues. Read Betty’s version in here.

But, honestly, can any of us honestly imagine a show called “The Clitoris Saga” getting very far, even in the the most enlightened country?

It’s a strange world. But again, I say, thank heavens for modern medical science.

And now, if they could only cure my heavy cold as well as they are treating Glenyce’s bladder, I’d be a lot happier! perhaps I could pinch her pills and try it!

Just like Blogs, which any fool can set up these days (as you’ve noticed!), it seems that a Wiki (or just wiki) can be set up by anyone at all.

Notice that those links are to Wikipedia, so it’s all self-referential, as is indeed a lot of the Internet.

You might or might not know what is a ‘Wiki’, but there is a wiki on almost everything you can think of. The biggest one is, I think, Wikipedia. A wiki is a knowledge base which can be added to by anyone at any time; most often, some registration process is needed to avoid wiki vandalism.

I spend a lot of time looking at some forums run by the Australian ABC, and two of these have developed their own wiki to help handle frequently asked questions (FAQ). These are Tech Talk Wiki and Scribbly Gum Wiki.

Anyway! I often amuse myself by Googling on quirky search terms. You would be amazed where that can lead! (Or perhaps you already know.)

Googling on:-

The term ‘blog’ gave me over 2 billion links!!!
The word ’sex’ gives 725 million links,
‘god’ gives 487 million,
‘jesus’ gives 283 million,
‘mohammed’ gives only 41 million,
‘wiki’ gives 523 million links.

Don’t know exactly what to make of all of that!

And so, in my idleness, I Googled on sex wiki to get over 8 million links.

Amongst these is the expected Wikipedia entry on sex.

Then there are some sex quotations:-
“A promiscuous person is someone who is getting more sex than you are.” -Victor Lownes (a Wikiquote)
“The only unnatural sex act is that which you cannot perform. “ (Alfred Kinsey )

And so I eventually found Sugerbank, interesting in itself, and which led to this nice little sex blog:-

Eros Blog: The Sex Blog

Interesting stuff, if you like that sort of thing - and I certainly sometimes do!

Now, that has rather challenging pictures, if you’re not used to mild pornography. I, myself, have explored a great deal of the internet pornography, and don’t find it anything much more that just average soft pornography. It does very little for me.

But, there is a site called Water Bondage, and that site is a lot more challenging. It shows umpteen pictures of naked females in bondage. And there is a water theme, consisting of hosing, spraying, douching, probing, immersion, and so on.

Many images have extra torture methods such as nipple clips with heavy weights on them, distorted breasts, and even scenes suggesting drowning!! Yikes!!!

Well, I don’t know about you, dear reader, but I personally find it all rather distasteful. I cannot imagine sexual pleasure being associated with these things.

In many other respect, I am quite adventurous - at least in imagination!!

But there is obviously a huge demand for pictures of these acts and practises, and certainly many porn sites show bondage, sadism and masochism. They are easy to find, and hugely popular.

But I, myself, prefer sexuality in the context of rather gentle, slower, and more loving contexts. On the other hand, I have friends who have expressed their attraction to rougher sex, perhaps involving some tying down with ropes and immobilisation.

Speaking as a married man, I have little opportunity for exploration of these things, and will have to reserve that for my next incarnation!

What do you think, dear reader?

Now, this is not something I have done. I tends to involve nicely shaped young women. That is a pity, in my opinion, because I would like to see all sorts of body shapes involved in such an activity. I like to see all shapes of human bodies celebrated and enjoyed, preferably naked! And that means young and old, thin and fat, pear-shaped and apple-shaped.

I say the above because I came across a good website that deals with naked body-painting. The body-painting pages are part of awebsite called Being and Nakedness. I recommend this site to all who are interested in the topic.

Regretfully, for reasons associated with health, namely back pain, depression, and involvement in a variety of other activities, I have not participated much in the nude swimming club and other nudist activities that I have enjoyed so much in the past, together with Glenyce. But I have resolved to rectify that with the approach of spring and summer.

This week Glenyce and I watched an interesting documentary on SBS TV here in Australia. It was called “Webcam Girls”, and is an excellent doco on some American women that set up their own personal webcams on the internet, and made money showing themselves on the internet pretty well 24 hours a day.

I saw it some time ago, but this time viewed it with my wife. Now, Glenyce is no prude, but doesn’t like tatty stuff. Nor do I, but I do find sexuality fascinating, and I am also interested in the general phenomena on the internet. We both thoroughly enjoyed the way the several women described the adventure of their discovering how they could interest with thousands of people over the internet.

They are not trashy girls, but intelligent, witty, creative and thoughtful young women willingly prepared to reflect on their experiences. They are sexually liberated, but perfectly independent and in control of their lives. So, I want to share with you their web sites and what I like about them.

Ducky Doolittle has an extensive website. You notice I did the right thing and gave the link for the opening page where you have to certify that you are a fit and proper age to go in there!

Not that I care two hoots! It’s just yet another way the American wankers pretend to be able to shield kids from this stuff. As if that’s so! Really!! There’s a link in there to buy the Webcam Girls doco we saw.

Now a hint using Ducky’s site: It uses something I hate, called framesets. This is a method of writing webpage code such that everything appears in a big subframe with scroll-bars on it. This is used so that when you click on links you always view the new page within the original frame on her web page, so you never get lost, and always come back to her!

But the big downer about framesets in web pages is that if you go to one of her links, and try and collect the link in your Favorites or pass it on, like I do with links in here, then it fails. That’s because you only ever appear to stay inside the same old frameset link.

Here’s how to break out her (and any) frameset: if you’re in a web site using framesets (internal scroll bars) , then when you click onto a link hold down the Shift key while you click on the link.

About Ducky herself.
Here’s her blog.
And her fanpage images.
A little bit of chemistry.

Enjoy Ducky’s site, and remember if you want to go to any link anywhere on a web site in a brand new browser page, hold down the Shift key as you click the link!

Anacam is another loglived webcam girl’s site.

Ana’s site uses those damn framesets like Ducky, and so you should read my above comments on how to manage framesets.

Like the above site, this also offers the Webcam Girls doco for US$5.99.
Some biographical detail for Ana Voog.
Anacam archived pictures up to 2001. As you can see if you explore these, Ana is not a shy girl!
After then she moved everything into a website where you have to pay to get in, at Ana2. That’s US$15 per month. I’m not that curious!

Jennicam ran for 7 years, with a camera on her all the time! She was a pioneer in this game, and she closed down in 2003.

Her old website can still be seen, but is transmuted into part of a pornography site which you can see here. Be warned that links to female genital images in there now, which is not what these webcam girls were essentially about. I found that rather sad!

I found that a Google search on jennicam netted 50,000 links!

It seems there has been huge interest in the phenomenon. My explorations showed that a lot of the links (especially in the links well down in the list) are porno sites. Nevertheless, there has been a lot of interest.

It seems that Jenny Ringley made quite a name for herself, and was featured in every possible media style from blogs to museums. She got some bad press, especially when she had sex with her new boyfriend on camera, while another woman thought he was still her boyfriend!

I’ll leave it up to you to look at the Google search links for her to see what it’s about, but these ones caught my eye.

Last Week at Jenni’s Place is interesting of only for its absolutely lousy web design that is almost illegible! What did they think they were doing? It deserves a place in that great site called Web Pages That Suck!

Sonnets have been written for her.

An excellent parody of the jennicam site has been set up. Worth a look.

A ghost site remembering jennicam.

There is a Wikipedia page on jennicam.

Original Blog post at this time point called Faking It! has been shifted to the Pages (full articles) as seen at top right —–>

You can also go there by clicking here.

I recently overheard the following conversation between two of my acquaintances, elfram and William Goyne:-

William Goyne: “I am feeling very demoralized at the moment”

elfram: “Does that mean that you’ve lost your morals?”

William Goyne: “”Well … I suppose it might, but I’m not sure.”

elfram: “Well, if you’re demoralized, then it must mean you’ve lost your morals - that’s what the words mean!”

William Goyne: “I have no morals? No morals at all? Fuck’en hell!”

elfram: “Oy! Don’t swear - this is a family blog.”

William Goyne: “Bloody-well isn’t - never will be! And you said I have no morals, so I can say what I like. So shove that up your wiZ-hole!”

elfram: “Don’t be rude to your elders! Just because you’re immoral doesn’t mean you can be rude.”

William Goyne: “”Does so! Anyway, I want to be rude - very rude!!”

elfram: “You’re awful, William Goyne! Hey- get off! Oh you are rude, aren’t you! …. Who taught you to do that?”

William Goyne: “It’s great fun having no morals. And if I want to be rude to … I mean … rude with you, then I will! Oh come on … don’t be a wet old blanket.
Um … have you ever heard of frottage?”

elfram: “It’s not a blanket - it’s a robe! And I have a hat - and a helmet - a purple one! No - never heard of frottage. Sounds French. Is he a writer… a musician … a chef?”

William Goyne: “Nope. He just does this. Doing frottage means doing this, and doing that …… now don’t be shy - I know all about you - I’ve heard about your magic wand!!”

elfram: “Hey, what do you think you’re doing - what a liberty! You cheeky young bugger!!”

William Goyne: “”Heheh! I just knew you’d like it if you tried it. Shakespeare said ‘Thereby lies the rub.’ But you’ve got me wrong. I may have no morals, but I do have tastes, and I’m not a young bugger … yet!”

elfram: “Um … it’s … so bad after all, is it … once you get used to it. Er .. d’you want to come around to my place? I … live … in a sort of … cave - it’s my den. I have animal skins on the floor and a fire blazing. My fire never goes out!”

William Goyne: “I’ll bet it doesn’t. Har-har!”

elfram: “Don’t be vulgar! Ooooh … you’re touching my Z-spot! You are a norty boy. That feels wiZard! Let’s go to my den - come on - I’ve got a play station.”

William Goyne: “A computer game? — but I thought we .. were going to …”

elfram: “Nooooo … a ‘play station’. It’s a special part of my den - we can play there. I think you’re going to love it … you’ll be spell-bound! Oh come on! Let’s go - you’ve got me all excited!!”

William Goyne: “Sooooo I noticed! It sticks out a mile!”

elfram: “Oh, you are a flatterer - I can see we’ll get on just maaarvellously! Let’s goooo!”

William Goyne: “I can’t.”

elfram: “What do you mean ‘you can’t ‘ - you young bugger?”

William Goyne: “I told you not to get your hopes up in that department, but you never know. But I just can’t come now.”

elfram: “Why not?”

William Goyne: “I afraid I’m feeling too demoralized at the moment.”"

elfram: “Yaaaaeeeaaaahhhh……………..!!!!”

to be continued…

OK, the great unwashed has debandaged the great work in progress. We took the wraps off the Leithhead testicles today to expose a forlorn sight.

There are large areas of purple and maroon surrounding a horizontal slash across the left testicle. The incision has been neatly stitched up with the stitches enfolded inwards, and very neatly, I really must say. Thank you, Dr Cato. A bit like making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, as it were!!

I love inapposite metaphors!! …….. insane giggles off-stage….

There is still a substantial “oof!” factor in walking around, and especially standing up after sitting down for a while. The agony is still fairly intense but is kept at bay by the stronger brother of Dr Panadeine!

But I’m even thinking of getting out to do more on the great work, “The Letterbox“.

But basically I am sitting at this computer trying to unscramble PHP the code used by WordPress for this blog, so I can customize it. I surf a lot, spend time in the ABC forums that I frequent at Indigo Chris’s Hyperforum, where I lurk in the Science forum, SSSF, the computer matters forum, TechTalk, and the nature forum, Scribbly Gum. I am a registered poster in these and other ABC forums, under the name of Bill L.

That hyperforum takes a bit of getting used to, but I can lurk in all 3 forums of interest at once. It gets pretty twitchy as the browser refreshed all 8 of the different frames on that page every 45 seconds or so.

I spend time on some sessions of piano improvisation, and also watching TV shows that I have recorded in recent weeks: two Ingmar Bergman films from the 50s, Catalyst from last week, also 2 Insights and a Cutting Edge. I still have American Beauty to see - one of the rare times I can stomach commercial television.

With those and various odd jobs of paper work and talking with my wife Glenyce, the day flies rapidly here In Glen Waverley, a genteel suburb of the southern city of Melbourne in Australia.

Well, here I am, hobbling gingerly around the house, the butt of giggling fits by my caring wife and daughter, after the urologist has had his way with me.

I had a general anaesthetic, thank God! The anaesthetist listed 5 different substances he used to knock me out and keep me under. Midazolam, a Valium relative, Fentanyl (I think), the one the Russians used to ‘rescue’ its citizens from the Muslim attack in that Moscow theatre, killing most of them along the way; and another drug I forget, and also nitrous oxide (Laughing Gas), and some low molecular weight halocarbon. Quite a cocktail, and no hangover.

I don’t remember a bloody thing! I felt the stuff go into the catheter on my hand, felt slightly relaxed, and then I realised I was waking up in the recovery room. I must say that they do a good job with anaesthetics these days. Beats the chloroform-soaked rag I remember that they used in the Kalgoorlie District Hospital during the 1940s, when I had my tonsils taken out. God, that chloroform makes you feel sick afterwards! And vomiting blood, eating ice cream only, until I had a nasty run-in with a forbidding-looking Matron who came down on me because I wouldn’t eat my boiled tripe!!

No, this time it was good. Thanks to modern medical science, operations are a lot safer and better these days.

Anyway, the pain set in this afternoon, as a heavy dull ache in the groin, overlaid with insistent stinging and irritation. I have taken 3 Panadeine Forte tablets this afternoon. I tried to lie down and doze, but I am better just tinkering at the computer.

The doctor has wrapped my balls/scrotum in a bundle of bandages, like a little mummy, but with my pink penis poking out shyly like a little proboscis. When Glenyce saw it she went into a fit of uncontrolled giggling which was out of character for her. She usually finds my genitalia slightly disgusting, from what I can make out. I am only too glad to have an opportunity to afford her some pleasure in that department by my comical appearance, because nothing else seems to work!

So I got her to take a photo; we went outside inthe sun, dropped my trousers, bared the objects of mirth, and rendered it for posterity. I am now sorry that I didn’t take a “before” photo this morning. To be honest, I had intended to do so, but my body is so unused to getting up so early that my donger was only a shrunken and shrivelled shadow of its true self, and I wasn’t going to put that on the internet. I do have some pride, you know, even if I have no taste!!

When my daughter Leanne came home, they made me take it out again for another “show and tell”. My suffering was yet again cruelly rewarded by gales of female mirth! As Kamahl once said “Why are people so unkind?”

Anyway, the deed is done, the goolies have been grappled with, the tackle has been untangled, and the balls are now on a level playing field!

Lights, camera, action!! Darling! Come here my love……. oof!
Er…. I … think we’d … better wait for a week or so, my little turtle dove.

Ouch!

Well, by 8am I go to the local hospital to get my left testicle chopped around a bit!! In the last year or so it has swollen to about 5 times its usual size, and it has become uncomfortable.

Apparently a benign condition, it arises from a fluid-filled sac occurring around that organ. I have no idea why. But the ultrasound clearly shows the fluid.

So, with me under a local anaesthetic, the specialist will drain the fluid out. But if left, the enlarged sac will simply refill! So he has to cut a bit out of the sac, stitch it up, stitch up the scrotum as well, and allow it to heal.

I expect to be hobbling around for a few days!! I don’t know how painful it will be, but will just cope somehow. It’ll take my mind off my back!

when i had a vasectomy in 1986, I got an infection afterwards, when I was in Soiuth Australia at a chemistry conference. That did things from I have never recovered.

My whole life experiences with my genitalia has not been a happy one, for all sorts of reasons. Stupid bloody things!!

I don’t mind hospitals. The procedures are always fascinating.

It breaks the boredom.

Must go. I have 20 min to decide whether to embarrass the family by taking a before and after photo!! I will report back later - I hope I can sit at the computer.

I came across this wonderful site Raving Atheist Blog, and have added it to my goodies.

I’ve categorized this as Religion, but it’s actually an excellent site exposing the stupidities of religion, and Christianity in particular.

Note that there is right now a main page article in there on a water stain in the wall of a freeway in Illinois that looks like an image of the Virgin Mary!! This hokum has been going for weeks now. Read all about it in there, and look at the following image, reproduced here. (Catholics remove your hats and kneel in prayer! Ding-a-ling!)

Ignorant idiots imagining that the salt-stain in a concrete wall is an
image of the Virgin Mary when any fool can see that it’s just her
holy vulva! Perhaps it’s the stain on the Virgin’s holy nickers!!
There’s not a lot of water for washing in the Middle East, and
that would beat the shit out of the Shroud of Turin!

STOP PRESS: An informant has alerted me to an even more deliciously offensive article at The Whitehouse on the same phenomenon!