Pour one out for my vas deferens

By the time you read this, a middle-aged Norwegian man will have his arm elbow-deep in my mighty nutsack, rummaging around in search of a garden-hose sized tube called the vas deferens so that he can isolate it, pull it out of my testicular pouch, and snap it in half with a bolt cutter. This procedure will sever the link between my testes and my dickhole, thereby preventing my omnipotent zsperm from running unfettered into unwitting ova. I will allow said Norwegian to perform this act of seeming barbarism so that I will not have any more zchildren, because, well, click on this link to my last penis post and you'll understand.

The doctor was intimidated by my manly girth at the consultation visit. Based on his reaction I understand that my vas deferens is some heavy-duty stuff. I suspect it's like a fuel line--braided stainless steel, something like this:

Hence the bolt cutter.

In light of my recent snafus with my health insurance carrier, I made sure to stay in-network. And I also made sure to consult with G:TB's foremost vasectomy expert, Danimal. His advice was invaluable. He made it clear that you shouldn't just pick the vasectomist with the fanciest degrees or the highest ratings, you gotta find a guy with flair. For example, Danimal pointed me to Dr. James Baldock. If you're going to let someone crack your ballsack open, shouldn't he have a name like Jimmy Balldoc?

This led me to Dr. Eric Seaman. Unfortunately, as you can see from his bio, Dr. Seaman specializes in vasectomy reversals, but he doesn't seem to cut the cord too much. I guess he's more interested in letting the Seaman out and not keeping them cooped up inside.

I then found the troika of Dr. Zoltan, Dr. Colon, and Dr. Yanke in Brooklyn. Despite being a zperson, Zoltan specializes in the bladder and the prostate. I assume that Colon only works with lower intestines so I crossed him off the list. Yanke seemed like a good fit, given that you're supposed to "produce a sample" after the procedure so that the doctor can put it under the microscope ... and given this:



But he's a kidney stone guy. And Brooklyn is just too far to travel to have someone pry your scrotum open.

Ultimately I found a guy less than five miles away with degrees from Bowdoin and Columbia who "enjoys relaxing with family, cooking spicy food, collecting vintage jazz, soul and salsa records and building hi-fi equipment with vacuum tubes." Anyone who builds hi-fi equipment knows his way around the business end of a soldering iron, so he should be amply prepared to cauterize my deferens shut, sequestering zsperm in znads for eternity.

By the time you've made it this far through the post I'm hopefully at home, resting peacefully on a bag of frozen peas, the tattered remains of my vas deferens flopping aimlessly inside the velvety sac of my family jewels, the world saved from enduring any further zchildren.

Post count!

Hipster Trifecta: You Can Feel It (It's Electric!)

For those of you who live/work in/near urban enclaves and enjoy silently mocking everybody you encounter on your daily sojourn, I offer up a fun game I like to call Hipster Trifecta.  In this game, you seek out hipsters with beards, flannel and visible tattoos.  These are the three tenets of the incredibly specific uniforms worn by our fine youth who like to think they are expressing their individuality by dressing like everybody else.  It makes for fun viewing.  You can tally them on your commute, mall trip, night out, etc. When you find one, you can throw him away. It makes the world a better place.

(h/t to Mark for providing this photo of himself)

A similar game started when I went to Aspen to visit a friend and learned to snowboard in 2002.  I was amazed at the number of dudes who rocked one-piece ski suits and fanny packs on slopes.  I spent the whole week looking for my own trifecta (one-piece, fanny pack, mustache).  I finally spied one my last day and took a picture of him. Not sure if he was psyched about that.  An obnoxiously wealthy co-worker of mine at the time told me that he didn't understand the mockery of the one-piece because his dad wore one that was custom-made for him.  Made me feel even better about indirectly making fun of his dad. 

If you really want to do some elephant hunting, you can further refine your search to the Quadfecta (note to readers: we are still working on that name), which counts hipsters with beards, flannel, visible tattoos and big round-rimmed glasses.  If you do find one of these rare creatures, please take a picture and email it to our web site (support@gheorghetheblogtheemailaddress.net). We will post it.  Do not fear the reaction of the creature you photograph.  They are timid and feeble by nature and will do you no harm. 

Happy Friday folks.  More fotos de testiculos next week.