Balls.

Hey cyber-junkies,

Well it has been a long time since I've updated my blog. As I'm plugged in to a full-time desk job, I find it hard to carve moments free to keep all 4 of you readers posted on my daily exploits. But now, at long last, I have time to fill you in on my life. Why, you may ask? Because I'm recovering from surgery!

Surgery? Surely you jest, Markre. I'faith I do not. Last Thursday I had emergency surgery on a remote and rarely seen organ of mine that I like to call my balls. It turns out that I have a genetic deformity in the inner workings of them which made them susceptible to flipping around in there. On Thursday morning, one of my little acrobats flipped himself and was caught in the choking grasp of an epididimus cord - which began a boa-like suffocation of my lluevo.

I left my place of business and hurried to my physician's office (uninvited) to get an immediate checkup down there - I feared that the pain that I was feeling was testicular cancer. My physician said that I should go to the E.R. immediately, so I galloped down the street to the hospital. Once there, my change purse was manipulated by about twelve different medical experts - each of them concluding that I had to get that thing untwisted before the life was choked out of it. Did you know that a Necrotic testicle will shrivel to the size of a marble or pea? That did not sound too fun for swimsuit season, so I was like "open it up, bitches!"

To be honest, once they told me that I didn't have cancer I didn't care what they did to me - I was content in the knowledge that I was going to live. So they rush me into the O.R. and I'm leaving voicemail messages to my Destructicon and my mom trying to be all calm like, "Just thought I'd drop you a line and tell you that they're going to be cutting open my bubblegum." Then they gave me the anesthetic drip and I lost about 8 hours.

I woke up in the recovery room. Did you know that in modern hospitals they put electric leg squeezers on your calves to massage the muscles and prevent blood clots from lying in bed for so long? I was a little freaked out by it. Oh yeah, they had strapped me into an enormous gauze codpiece which made me look like I had the balls of a Kodiac Bear. It lifts and supports.

So my Destructicon swung by to check on me and gave me flowers and a card, and my mom even flew in from Pennsylvania to watch out for me in my first few days out of the hospital. It was pretty great. Stuff like that really makes you understand what it means to have people who love you. Love isn't about words, its about actions.

Anyway, I have been steadily recovering this week (mercifully my boss sympathizes with my plight) doing my taxes and playing xbox 360 - a little gift from my mom/broseph for being such a brave little trooper. Rawk.

All things considered I am very lucky. Things could have gone much worse, but now they are looking great.

I will divulge more of my Testastic Voyage in future blog entries, but for now I must take a rest.

Torsion,

Markre