How to look a bit more like a porn star in one easy step

Step 1: Shave your nads.

It works!

Nothing I can do about the size thing, though. Sure it isn't everything.

So I had an open left inguinal hernia repair surgery yesterday. "Inguinal" is Latin for "a bit too close to the nuts", "hernia" has more to do with intestines than with testicles, but guys still don't like to talk about it, "repair" means they patch your insides with a piece of plastic mesh, and "suregery" means you get to wear one of those look-at-my-butthole gowns.

I'm in some pain now, but there are several positive aspects:

1. Since I decided to take care of this thing, quite a few women have asked to mess with my balls. Not all of them terribly ugly.
2. A woman I don't even know shaved half my pubes off. I was asleep at the time, so for all I know she was seriously hot.
3. Now I do nothing but read read read.
   
4. I'm missing a whole week of work. That's more than I've missed for over three years. It's coming off my vacation time though.
5. Did I mention that I get to not read any work-related mail for 10 whole days?
6. My incredible wife is spoiling me completely rotten. I love you.
7. Pain killers. Best trip you can take without leaving the room.
   

That's me below, trying to seem like everything's cool, and a seemingly-friendly woman didn't cut me open an inch from my freshly shaved wang.


With me are my special get-well-quickly friends:

• Schnozito the elephant I got for my birthday abut 8 or 9 years ago.
  
• Binky and Binkolito the dolphins, who I promissed myself would be the last stuffed animals I ever bought.
• Okapi the okapi, one of the many stuffed animals I bought after the Binkys. I bought him at the WCN expo a few months ago, which is going to get its own post soon. It will include a picture of me with Jane Goodall.
• Book 4 of Preacher, the most bad ass comic ever. It's the one where after some serious getting-back-together sex, the preacher says to his girlfriend "Couldn't help notice you went back to eatin' meat." Bad fucking ass.

I had the suregery at the Palo Alto Medical Clinic, which I'm told is something of a rich people's hospital. Fuck yeah! Incredibly friendly staff, warm blankets to cover you (warm as in they put them in the oven before putting them on your frightened turtle), nice ladies who want to check your jewels out and high quality drugs. The whole thing was pretty quick - I got there at 9:30, lost conciousness around 11:00, and was out of there at 2:30. The pain isn't too bad if I don't try anything weird like moving, and I have 1st class tickets on Narcotics Airlines.

Like I said, Marina is working constantly on making my flight more pleasant. I get great home-cooked meals, and this afternoon she even transformed this pile of ingredients into that wonderful yeast cake. Yum.





Not much to add, I think. Especially now that the Vicodin is in full effect and I can't get the first chords of Metallica's Orion out of my head. I should be fine for WonderCon, and that's the important thing.

Special shout outs to all mah homies:

• My surgeon, Dr. Expect Your Scrotum And The Base Of Your Penis To Turn Purple. Thanks, that's exactly what I needed to hear just before going in.
  
• My anesthesiologist, Dr. You'll Never Know What Hit You.
  
• The friendly Nurse Before We Begin Can You Take This Marker And Mark An X On The Side Of Your Groin We Need To Operate On?. Hope I got it right.
  
• MC Vicodin, a.k.a DJ Rel-AX, baby. You da man.
• Miss Jenny McCarthy. 'Cause it's my blog and I can do anything I want. And I'm stoned half out of my mind.