I've no reason to be upset? Well then, FUCK YOU!

The BBQ Pit
1

Yeah, yeah, yeah. My life sucks. Or at least it did. Let’s review for a moment and see exactly how deep in the latrine my life has settled.

Three weeks ago I had a recurrence of a wonderful something called a testicular torsion. Actually, it was a double torsion, with both of my nads getting twisted out of whack and in danger of sterility, necrosis, gangrene, asexuality, and the Big Sleep. Surgery is the only solution, and I had it, with a mere 20 minutes notice. My scrote was all cut up, my Boys were sewed down, and I have permanent sutures. Boy, did that hurt.

Unfortunately, I’m getting better. Sure, sometimes I get a twinge now and then, but I’m so immune to pain at this point I hardly notice it. I knocked my funny bone today, and I laughed. For real, because it didn’t hurt. I’m having a very difficult time fully experiencing pain and discomfort. But at least it still wears me out.

Sure, I get tired easily, but I’ve also had lots of rest, because for the first time in three years nothing ugent is happening at my office. They’re more than happy to give me all the time off that I need. Because my job rocks.

I saw the doctor the other day, and I’m going to recover fully, hardly even a damned scar. Except that my balls are about half again as large as they were. That, I’m told, could last months, years, or even forever.

Did you hear that? My fucking balls are enlarged!

Well, at least I have no money and no insurance.

Well, that’s not strictly true. In fact, for the first time in my adult life, I have full coverage, since just last year. And the surgeon who did the number on me? Just by coincidence, he happens to be one of my health plan’s preferred doctors. Which means I don’t have to pay jack shit.

Which would be a good thing, if I didn’t have any money. Except that last week, the accounting office realized I forgot to cash a full paycheck back in January, so they issued me another. With interest. And my zero-deductions tax refund came in. Along with another one from 1997 that I almost forgot to file. Also with interest. I’m single, I don’t own a car (but I now have a driver’s license), and not too long ago, I finished paying off my student loans.

In other words, I’ve got money coming out of my ass right now.

At least I’ll just piss away that windfall on booze, because I’m an alcoholic. I probably haven’t been sober for a full week since 1986.

Except for the last three weeks, that is, since my surgery. You would have done the same if it were the bottle or The Boys. No, there were no withdrawal symptoms. No, I don’t constantly crave it; I don’t even really miss it. No, I haven’t replaced the addiction with other addictive drug abuse, unless you want to discuss the finer points of nonexcessive marijuana use. No, I don’t feel alienated by my friends. In fact, I had great time with them just tonight. Except I’m sober. Which I also enjoyed. Lately, I’ve been able to pay back years of my friends having to cart me around by being the designated driver, which I’ve had fun doing.

Occasionally, I get a little bored, but I have lots of diverse interests, so when I do get bored I just draw, or read, or watch films, or go to the dozen or so free museums within a half-hour walk from my perfectly located home, or do origami, or whatever.

Did you hear that!?! Occasionally, I get a little fucking bored!!! I’m going to roast a bowl right now just to prove to myself that I’m a hopeless slave to my addictions…

…Okay, where was I? Oh, yeah. *At least my fucking roommates, God damn their souls to Hell…

…are nonexistent*. I live alone.

Aha! I live alone in a dirty, messy, roach-infested pigsty!

Well, with all this free time, I’ve actually cleaned the place up. The exterminator came by today.

But I still can’t get laid! Okay, technically, I could get laid. The doctor said it’s perfectly okay. And just tonight, I met a beautiful young lady who took a liking to me when she was sober and gave me something close to an invitation to the ball when she got drunk. I had to decline because I was sober and well, it just wouldn’t be gentlemanly of a Virginian to take advantage of someone like that. She found that to be pretty cool, and made sure that a date is still on for next week.

Did you fucking hear that? I can’t get laid, because I’m a fucking gentleman, and I’m gonna get fucked silly by a beautiful girl next week because of it!!!

Jesus fucking Christ! Can’t a guy not get a fucking break around here? At least I’m still on dial-up.

Until tomorrow, that is, when I can hook up my deluxe DSL setup. There might be problems… but I’ve already tested it out, and it works. Flawlessly. Oh yeah, they just sent me an extra DSL modem by accident, too.

In short, there is absolutely nothing–NOTHING–wrong with my life. I’ve got it good, and that ain’t bad. Which sucks. But not really.

I could console myself with the thought that this may very well be the pinnacle of my lifetime, all downhill from here, and I didn’t even take the time to smell the roses. Except I am reveling in the moment, and I don’t really feel like thinking so pessimistically right now. In fact, all indicators seem to look pretty good for a lot of fun in the short term and a long, healthy, fulfilling life in the long term. That in itself could be a crisis, if I wanted it to be so, but I’m having a lot of trouble seeing it that way.

Somehow, this is all your fault.

That’s right. YOUR FAULT. There is no fucking way that I could have done all this myself, or been this lucky. Obviously, I’ve been vampirically siphoning away your happiness and self-contentment, just so that I could selfishly live a life I couldn’t have dreamt about five years ago.

Well… probably not. I’ve actually worked quite hard to get where I am. Sorry. I didn’t really mean that “fuck you” part, either. I like all of you.

Hey, at least I’m not being humble about all of this. That’s a flaw. However, I still honestly, fervently hope that every one of you has the chance to have everything go right, even if just for a few minutes, and I hold myself up at this moment as living proof that such a thing can happen. I’m sorry that’s so sickeningly positive.

Well, to be honest, I’m really not very sorry about that, either.

This just sucks.

But not really.

2

That was a great rant.

But not really.

:smiley:

3

Go get laid! :smiley:

&

Great rant or whatever that was. :slight_smile:

4

Fuck you. I want my share of happiness back.

Seriously, congrats on getting all your shit together at once, no small feat, that.

If it weren’t for the fact that my life is an empty shell devoid of love or even companionship, I’d be pretty well off. Got enough money, just moved into a nice new place, job doesn’t suck, I’m young, healthy, and good-looking.
Oh well, can’t have everything. Unless you’re Sofa King, apparently.

5

A few minutes ago I was annoyed that I didn’t get to sing any songs at karaoke tonight (damn mic hogs), but your rant mellowed me out. Thanks. :slight_smile:

Glad to hear somebody’s gonna get laid. ::grumble::

6

Well, for fuck’s sakes, why are you stealing my M.O.?

Now you done pissed me off, I am the only one here that can rant and whine about their life on this board in this manner. :wink:

Well shit on a brick, Sofa, I do wish you the best, along with your testicles…hope I can say that…all testicles need care and loving.

7

“Did you hear that? My fucking balls are enlarged!”
There are people who’d pay good money for that :slight_smile:

But welcome to the testicular torsion troupe here’s your card and number, you have shared an experience (and pain) no ordinary man could ever hope to understand. Welcome brother, welcome.

Soooo is the hair starting to grow back yet? :smiley:

8

I almost want to use this as my sig, but then I picture some of the qualmier folks in GQ and GD getting antsy when discussing the finer points of the Bible and seeing a reference to Sofa’s balls.

Sofa, I give you an 8.7. In spirit:) Now if you could just get your dick torted (or whatever the proper form is), you’d have a cock to match the balls.

I would ask if you’ve made sure everything is still fully functional, but mostly I really don’t want to know, and the rest of it is that I think you probably figured that out by now;)

9

I think we’ve discovered the REAL cause of all the pain - you might want to pull that horseshoe out of your ass.

10

So you’re saying that if I let someone cut open my scrotum, I’ll get laid by a beautiful woman?

Screw that, where’s the monastery?

Congratulations of everything going so well…
…fuck you, too.:smiley:

11

Thank you, Sofa, for the laugh I needed. I, as well, am blessed with an unbelievably great life - and a mild case of testicular torsion, too. But my gorgeous, brilliant, attentive former-model wife (no, really) has been away visiting friends for the past week, leaving me lonely and depressed. Thank you for making me realize that I have it too good to even consider whining.

12

Well, that moment of slight reality distortion was refreshing. Fact is, it’s still life, and not entirely rosy. Still, things are pretty damned good.

I guess that horseshoe in my ass is still pointed up!

13

Hey, congratulations, Sofa. Maybe you’ll get really lucky and end up with colon cancer, in which case you’ll probably win the lottery and become a movie star after it goes into full remission.

14

Featherlou you rock.

15

You, Sofa King, are my happiness vampire. I know it is you because life sucks the big fat dead rat’s ass for me and Mrs. O right at this very moment. All the money coming out of your ass has been siphoned their out of our bank accounts. Your extra DSL modem comes courtesy of this piece of shit Compaq Presario that has processor-destroying strokes on a regular basis. And don’t even get me started on the last time she and I… aw hell, let’s just leave it at that.

You must die. You must die soon. You must die with a stake of the purest oak through your cold, happiness-sucking heart.

But first you must buy me a beer so I can cry into it.

Seriously, though. It’s stone cool you’ve got the majority of your shit together and there’s little I can begrudge you on that. :slight_smile: So I won’t send you the picture from Mrs. O’s latest clinical magazine of a de-torsion in progress. That’s just bad karma. And I ain’t kidding - such a photograph exists.

16

I did not just type “their” for “there” in that last post. I did not!!

Oh God, why hast thou forsaken me?! weeps openly

17

Guys want larger testicles? Um. Ok the penis thing, while somewhat baffling, I can at least understand. Why on EARTH would a guy want BIGGER testicles? They’re nasty and annoying enough at regular size. Bleah. Big ole dangly balls on purpose? Why?

I once dated a man who had a genetic condition that made his testicles very small. It was very very cool. Not having a big hairy nutscack banging all over the place made sex SO much better.

18

Well, the pleasure comes when the white, gooey stuff comes squirting out… bigger nuts means more gooey stuff, which means more coming out, which means more pleasure. I guess… I’ve never really thought of my testicles as anything other than a weak spot in battle.

19

Dude, stop rationalizing. You’re way to old to still be a Virgin. And what does that have to do with it?

I say get your cherry popped it’s about time. No wonder you’ve had these problems with your testicles. They must be all backed up from your life of celibacy.

What are you waiting for? Fuck her! Squeeze her tits!

20

I was wondering the same thing, Opal. It took me a while to realize that all the bolded and italized text was supposed to be good things because that bit about the larger balls kind of threw me. I can’t imagine any advantage to having larger balls.

But, hey, Sofa, if you and your loved ones are pleased with your new, bigger balls, then more power to you. I salute you on your newfound happiness.