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Claudio Ianora

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Priapus medicine and mad sciences
11/29/2010 5:21:58 PM

to save a prick
Of Medicine, mad sciences and Priapus.

I did not want to tell the story because I felt that practically no one deserved to share nature’s latest most surprising practical joke to me and because the reality of this episode maybe beyond my ability to do it justice and one should never, absolutely never, employ art that is inadequate to portray reality’s majestic caprices. But, since I have lost completely whatever confidence I might have still nourished for the now completely mad science of medicine, I asked Eric to help me diagnose my latest and most torturous health problem. I have for sometime now, been suffering from a severe case of itchiness. Pruritus! It is driving me insane and inviting me to consider something that I could never accept; suicide as escape, hence a completely humiliating capitulation! Taking my life, on the contrary, has to be a celebration, a demonstration of my final and complete emancipation and empowerment. My solipsist timeless and glorious moment of omnipotence. But the itch is relentless and excruciating. And on a scale of one to ten, I would without hesitation place it at ten usurping my previous ten: - Surgery which involved scraping infection off bones without any anesthetics. . It started in the anus. I had been y practicing abstinence for about 15 years and in The Book of Maybes I describe the various subterfuges that nature employed to make me recant my abnormal propositioni. One day months ago, wiping myself provoked a very intense sexual pleasure. Christ! I thought to myself, the ass hole has now allied itself with my prick in order to defeat me. The experience repeated and became more and more pronounced in time, soon I had to practice wipe control.. Wipe myself studiously and then finish the job with a gentle douche. This alternative eventually produced an equal pleasure problem. Eventually it armed itself with weaponry of mass itchiness, attacked and conquered both buttock elevations and advanced down along the canyon’s bottom towards (an obvious strategic objective) the scrotum and penis. I was powerless, defenseless and outraged because this advancing orgasmic enemy was taking over my entire body and converting it into a large self propelled and self directed horny cock.

Ave divinum incarnatio, Priapi! I could not wipe myself, nor touch any part of my body without arousing those sensations that are usually circumscribed to the appropriate member. S. And the itch grew in intensity and area.
I broke down and went to the doctor.
- Jock itch ! Was is prompt competent sounding diagnosis.
Yeah sure! Like I am the kind of common solipsist that would be satisfied in contracting a simple fungal condition! Yet for a while I was reassure.. Went with prescription to the Madapothecary branch of the mad science of medicine. Followed instructions and a couple of days later the condition had become absolutely unbearable. I found out that showering the affected parts with near scalding hot water I would experience at once the whole gamut of sensations possible at its most excruciating level, burning, stinging, itching and relief and yes, exquisite pain which I had no problem recognizing as orgasmic pleasure. The ordeal would however provide up to four hours of relief which I could use to catch up on sleep.. I successfully control the level I could stand without actually reaching orgasm but at the same time I worried that in time I I might get to like the ordeal. My doctor was adamantly against the hot water treatment, So I got more expensive mad medications but no improvement. Running out naked to roll in in the snow a;so helped but it did not last half as long as the scalding water. I needed sleep. And it was either that or go to the highway and hope a big lumber truck would come rumbling by on cue. But no, it mat seem curious to conventional belief but I have to get to near perfect shape in order to take advantage of my prerogative of self extinguishment. To kill myself to avoid escape itch or cancer would be mere suicide, I will not cop out, and I am still convinced that I am going to endure and prevail eventually and have my moment of magic sub specie aeternitatis. For now , As I told Eric I have to endure and believe that suffering validates my existence and the challenge gives me status. It would be too easy otherwise
Then Came Edema! The foreskin which usually rings at the base of the glans puffed up like an inflated tube. I kept it under observation for a day, it grew. the morning of the third day it was enormous. It was monday, Football day but up to the emergency room I went. No one at the front desk so I walk in and up to the nurse station where I am greeted by a stout older woman with a prince valiant hair cut who as it turned out, was Doctor Keland. -What was the matter with me? My penis is very swollen, big and really shiny… - -It is ? -Yes. (I wanted to add that it might explode but quickly decided that shiny ought to be enough for a start) - Ah, we shall have a look at that! Wont we?
 Monday night football!  I am exhausted and my arse is on fire.

Back to Priapus after this intercalation -Why do I like football? I have been asked many times. I do not really favour any teams or players. My generic answer should be- because a wise man is one who seeks wisdom. And popular sports especially the most popular and not surprisingly most ridiculous- soccer, are are a mirror of societies intellect, values and mores- exactly as the arenas were in roman times. But I usually respond ( also true) that I like live dynamic geometry and related drama . In fact I think of American football as my best reality simulation played in full view and with fullness of emotions and suspense upon the linear tracing imposed on an object of no value that snatches credibility from the laws of numbers by the successful execution of an infinitely improbable plan.

This comprehension that things such as infinity and eternity are not really impossible but just extremely unlikely as the middle ground upon which all finite phenomena find the element that permits an ephemeral and circumscribed reality to be played out center stage. Football is my favourite sport fantasy which culminates at the appointed arbitrary time in a pair of numbers -say, 21- 14, which by their obvious banality endows the needless exercise, with a sense of an essential accomplishment in a field of apposite reality. The losers suffer,so that the winners may bask in fatuous glory and thus insure the renewal of the contest and its derivative reality. Without football, or similar dramas like the amusing terrorists in explosive diapers bringing to their knees and completely humiliating the citizens of one of the most narcissist empire ever,. Without these dramas as I was saying, there would still be numbers and all their possible configurations but without apparent meaning. Like the score, 21-14 , without the game.

part 2

   I got the middle of three stalls and Colin, a handsome young male nurse to look after me, fill in form and gather data about the problem. The problem as I see it looking down , is a hell of a big prick in three not only very distinct section but also stuck together a few degrees askew to the preceding one. The upper shaft larger and longer but not that puffed up so much that the plaid pattern of wrinkles is not easily detected.. Th middle section which normally is a ring of rudimentary foreskin is puffed up so much that it is smooth as the surface of an inflated balloon and with a remarkable lustrous sheen. Then hanging a bit askew as I said and looking incongruously small and plain, the pale glans . Colin is impressed. When The doctor comes through the yellow curtain she is impressed. -What have I put on it that may have caused such a reaction?. I have been on the net, and following various suggestions I have put on it everything that might have been inside a fridge one time or another, plus, ice, tea, plain yogurt etc.- And Vinegar? Oh yeah , apple cider vinegar. - Smells nice. She tells Colin to give me a shot, and disappears for a few minutes. It is a pattern that is repeated for hours,. She comes, tries this tries that, and each time she goes away seemingly more concerned. When I am left alone, I listen to the things going on on the separee's on either side of me. On my left is a man with the latest of a series of heart attacks, while on my right another man is in with transplant problems. Their voice and tones are curiously upbeat. They must be scared to giddiness I assume. When the one with transplant problems is finally fitted with life support systems of various different sounds and applications that will enable him to survive the long ambulance trip to Trail he even cheerfully bids me goodby and good luck. I respond in kind and ask him if he wouldn't mind getting me a couple of nice cigars while in Trail. He promises me to do so, and that if by chance he is highjacked to Cuba he will bring me a box of Montecristo.

Denial I say to myself and wonder if I am going to perform as idiotically some day soon. Doctor Keland comes and goes and about two or three hours after my shot she decides that the shot did not work and that we have to get rid of the edema phisically. I dont understand he concern so I ask her about! - Well look at the glans, look at the colour... -hu-yeahh I say tentatively not understanding the inference.- The swelling is strangling it! - Yeah mmmh. So the first attempt is to wrap it tightly with compression bandages. I help as much as I can , but the end result looks pretty shoddy. - Do I have any idea how we could put pressure on the edema, Colin doesn't , I suggest that if I could get it into a condom that might do it. Colin is put in charge of finding Condoms. She disappears for a few minutes while I hold the bandages on with both hands and put pressure on it. While she is away I decide that all this is not happening and that she is mt blue fairy mother in disguise. When she comes back she brings a dixie cup of sugar with her. -We are going to coat it with sugar. She informs me. - Oh that is sweet I manage to say.- Well, it is in the book you know. I am tempted to ask what book, but I understand now why she rushes off all the time and then comes back with questions and ideas.. A moment later as my blue fairy is pouring sugar on my dick and trying to make it stick, (Rhyme heehhehheee!) Colin comes back with two bright red condoms. Oh, No wait a minute, I just remember that somewhere in between the compression bandage failure and the sugar, but after I suggested condoms, she left and came back with a heavy rubber kind of condom used in tomography I think she said, that was at least a foot long but very narrow. Hard and narrow. So anyways here comes Colin with two red condoms and now she wants me to try and get it on top of the gritty sugar and carefully so that the sugar would not fall off . I would have difficulty getting that little thing stretched and on my divine member even without the stupid sugar. - My first attempt with her holding it is clumsy and fails. She takes off again, and seems more flustered than usual. While she is away, probably consulting the good book in a back room somewhere , I decide to use the gauze bandage to wrap my sweet dick nice and tight and then I might be able to put the condom on top of that, In fact I succeed. When she comes back I show it to her proudly. Bu now she has a somber determinate look on her face. -No it is taking too long, we are losing it! And she starts undoing my good work. She dusts the grains of sugar off it and then she tells me what we must do. - I have to grab a good hold of it. -, O.K. And I do that. - then she plants her two thumbs side by side on the tip of it - She is going to push down on it while I pull up the skin with all my strength, I am? I have not had the virgin look for 5 or six centuries, ( I mean decades) And I know that over the years the foreskin has shrunk both in length and diameter. - NO MATTER! It has to be done. By gum she is got those two thumbs pressing down already so I respond by pulling upward with a groan, Now she has taken a deep breath leaned her upper body over the gurney , she has streightened her arms and squared her shoulder ssnd he yells at me, PULL! PULL! PULL! Haaargrgggrrr! I gave it everything I had. And through a surprisingly rigid and unyielding ring of pain the skin and edema slid over the glans and we locked eyes in a moment of triumph. I Had to hold the tip of the skin so that it wouldn't slip back until I notice that the swelling had disappeared completely. Now my dick was half the norma sized. Doctor Keland, my beautiful and good fairy mother, beamed and exulted: . ANOTHER LIFE SAVED!

And f*** if I didn't spoil it for her with my abitude to say whatever is on my mind, preferring ostracism a thousand time than the comfortable slavery of conformism.

  • Yeah, But were the lifes you saved worth anything?

  • I  had to stay overnight, but I did not see her again.

  • Oh bullets! (just like magic)then this, and I am a goner. I have nailed the ten (mmm, maybe eleven! Not sure) alternative on the door of eternity and you have missed it-  it and the live one.

  • Now hear this you idiots- there is no one in the palace

  • no parade for vir justus




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More Blogs by Claudio Ianora
• dripping dead - Tuesday, September 27, 2011
• tally [ho!] - Monday, September 26, 2011
• nobody writes to the strange one - Wednesday, September 21, 2011
• amplitude - Tuesday, September 06, 2011
• caducetor - Tuesday, July 26, 2011
• logion 77, join in! - Saturday, July 23, 2011
• foisted free will and derivative choices. - Wednesday, June 29, 2011
• improvements make crooked roads straight but the old ones.. - Wednesday, June 22, 2011
• love amoral- death the gateway to divine reward - Tuesday, May 24, 2011
• Gameteus; - Tuesday, May 17, 2011
• A good Time To die [does the universe have a purpose!?!] - Thursday, May 12, 2011
• man's greatest intellectual achievement - Monday, May 09, 2011
• seeking teachers - Thursday, May 05, 2011
• missing the obvious - Sunday, May 01, 2011
• retooling - Sunday, May 01, 2011
• big bang is no brainer - Sunday, April 10, 2011
• Bradley Manning vs National Shame. - Thursday, March 10, 2011
• scum - Saturday, January 29, 2011
• flummoxed 1&1/2 - Saturday, January 22, 2011
• surviving mexico 3 - Friday, January 21, 2011
• surviving mexico 2 - Friday, January 21, 2011
• surviving mexico - Wednesday, January 19, 2011
• Brhama dreaming - Friday, January 14, 2011
•  Priapus medicine and mad sciences - Monday, November 29, 2010  

• back to olympus! - Monday, November 29, 2010
• on omissions, 2 - Wednesday, September 15, 2010
• on power, 2. - Thursday, September 09, 2010
• Pit 2. To piss or not to piss - Saturday, September 04, 2010
• On Faith - Wednesday, August 25, 2010


Don't Look Behind You by Billy Wells

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