The situation repeats itself cyclically, and it's always funny, no matter how serious. Someone goes to the hospital because they've inserted some blunt object rectally that they can't pass. The soda bottle is a classic and always makes me think of that Gordon Ramsay recipe for chicken stuffed with a tin can. The latest episode, much discussed at the bar, was that of the gentleman who went to the emergency room (at Rangueil Hospital in Toulouse) with serious damage to the area I won't mention, because it would rhyme. In his rectum, there was an object which, following a strict code of ethics, the doctors proceeded to remove. And lo and behold, as it was coming out, they realized it wasn't, precisely, a whip. It was a World War I shell. It measured 20 centimeters long and 3 centimeters wide, so we shouldn't imagine an Enola Gay. But of course, as a precaution, they had to call in the bomb disposal experts. Luckily, the weapon dated from 1918 and posed no risk of fireworks, beyond the patient's enjoyment. I speak to all of you, readers, with a certain scatological frankness, because we come from where we come from. Our most celebrated literary figure is Patufet, the boy expelled by a bull, rectally, as the poem glosses: "The bull farted and out came Patufet."
When self-gratifying with a cylindrical object, one should consider the possible explanations if everything goes wrong. The boy's mother, if she exists, is already aware of the object. vintageAnd he knows, of course, if the boy's plume came from his great-uncle's clandestine collection. To avoid perpetual laughter, I would always advise (if things can't be, let's say, "natural") using vegetables, which are easier to extract, if necessary. It's not for nothing that, by analogy, the penis is called a "turnip" or, if you prefer a more modest term, a "carrot." Whenever ethically possible, these vegetables should be seasonal and locally sourced.
