In the spirit of such threads as “you can’t bring fire on a plane!” and the overtly embarrassing barf incident at the buffet, I bring you my tale of personal agony not for the sheer emotional release of it but more for the betterment of mankind... and I emphasize the man in “mankind.”

My story begins during what was supposed to be merely a pleasant ride home from a friend’s house about 35 minutes from my own home.  We had been hanging out watching a couple of movies in the basement but it was getting late.  I said goodbye and hopped into my green ‘96 Blazer and headed out.  I had just graduated high school and life was good... right up until I got into my vehicle.

I noticed a slight dull pain in the one place men pray to never get pain.  That’s right... something wasn’t quite right with my kiwis.  “No biggie,” I thought... perhaps I just hit a bump or sat on it wrong.  Testicles are sensitive creatures and this is nothing to worry about.

As the I made my way home, the pain became greater and greater.  By the time I got to my driveway and out of the car, I could barely walk.  I got inside and looked at the stairs and thought to myself, “there is no way in hell I am getting up those.”  Climbing them would be akin to scaling the Great Pyramid... with someone kicking you in the jibblies.

I quietly made my way to the computer room and gently, oh so carefully, sat down.  The pain was unbearable.  I immediately opened up several Internet Explorer windows and typed feverishly into Metacrawler, Alta Vista, and Yahoo search engines.  This was before the Google craze, so I had to sift through an abnormal amount of fetish porn.  After clicking on any website with the keywords “acute pain in the testicles,” there was only a few logical conclusions: I have testicular cancer, I’m going to die, and, at this point, the latter is perfectly acceptable.

It was past midnight after this enlightening medical lesson and the pain had subsided enough for me to brave the Great Pyramid and sleep in my room.  No position was comfortable in bed and trying to “support the boys” was even more painful.  At some point, I passed out... most likely in tears out of fear of my impending death via cancer of the balls.

I woke up mid-day to an empty house and only a dull pain in my dirty bits.  I solemnly picked up the phone and called my doctor.  The secretary asked what the reason for my requested visit was and I could only whisper “acute pain in my... testicles.”  She made me an appointment right away.  Clearly, she was married and knew that no man would call a doctor over such a thing unless he was near death.

I slid into my Blazer and made my way to the doctor’s office.  God indeed has a sense of humor because the very next song on my CD player was “Big Balls” by AC/DC.  The irony was not lost on me and I promptly turned on the radio instead.  The album was on sale at Sam Goody... I should have skipped it in hindsight rather than give God a medium through which to mock me.

Regardless of musical torment, I pulled into the doctor’s office a few minutes later and walked in with as little limp as possible.  I checked in with the receptionist and she smiled and asked what the appointment was regarding.  Swallowing my pride, I sheepishly told the second woman of the day “acute pain in my testicles.”  Receptionists must be trained not to chuckle out loud and she merely told me to take a seat.

Within a few minutes I was called in.  I eyed the elevated bed they make you sit on and reflected upon how easy an SUV is to get situated in as opposed to this torturous device.  The doctor came in soon after and wasn’t nearly as shy as I was.  

“Acute pain in the... testicles?”
“Yep...”
“It could be a number of things... one could be twisted or...”
I cut him off and blurted out “it’s cancer isn’t it?”
He said I was jumping to conclusions but, regardless, we would need to do a testicular exam.  So after telling two women that my berries were not in working order, I proceeded to let a grown man play with my partners in crime.

Much to my happiness, he explained that there did not appear to be anything wrong.  No twisting, no lumps, nothing!  A few minutes prior I was about to request that they be removed but apparently the problem was not that bad.

He calmly asked for a little more history of the prior evening, to which I will relate to you all.  I was indeed leaving my “friend’s house” but I failed to mention to all parties involved that it happened to be my girlfriend’s house.  My first girlfriend.

We admittedly did a little bit of messing around in the basement... nothing to write home about but just enough, in the end, to write a story about.  My doctor pried for more information in timeline form and I began to wonder if he wanted me to start dictating a romance novel.  
“Did you ejaculate?”
Well, geez Doc... that’s rather blunt.  If you must know “I did not...” He paused and smiled ever so slightly.  The bastard knows something that I don’t...
“It sounds like vasocongestion.”
“Vaso-what?” I replied.
“It is a buildup of blood when a male is very... errr... excited.  When said male does not... errr... release it can cause a great deal of pain.  It is quite common and almost expected.  Most people refer to it as ‘blue balls.’”
I was beginning to catch on.  “So how do I cure this little problem?”
He stuttered a bit... “One just needs to, uhh... release.”
I excited blurted out, “You mean I just have to spank it??”
“Yes... err, uhh... release.”
“Hell, I can do that!”

After a bit of awkward silence, I thanked him and he left me to myself so I could get dressed.  I walked out of that room with a big ol’ shit eating grin on my face.  No cancer, no death, and a new excuse to spank it.  Life doesn’t get much better than that.

I approached the other receptionist, with whom one must check out with upon leaving.
“I take it everything went well?  Do you need a prescription filled?”
I couldn’t help myself.  “I’ve had the prescription for years... I just didn't know the dosage!”
The joke was lost on her.

I hate to leave the story at a rather anticlimactic ending, pun intended, but I never did again experience Blue Balls.  I will, however, forever live with the burning memories of what it feels like to look death in the eye and come to learn that I just need to play with myself.

This story, however, is intended to better mankind.  My father taught me all of the important stuff in life: How to shoot, work on the car, re-use underwear, and fart in a manner that generally goes undetected by others.  The one thing he apparently skipped over was the inevitable condition in which your testicles feel like they’ve been tap-danced on.

To all the fathers out there... tell your sons about the horrific affliction known as Blue Balls.  Avoiding it will only do one thing: Traumatize the poor bastard to the point he actually goes to the doctor.

To this day, my father doesn’t know about the grudge that I hold against him.  I’d imagine that one night in the future, after a few beers, I’ll let the story rip, just as I have let it flow on a few rare and alcohol-induced occasions.

And there is my most embarrassing story.  May it bring you all a few chuckles and make the lives of your sons less dramatic.

-  BG

and why would you post that here?

It's freaking hilarious.  Thanks for posting it.  

The moral of the story is:

Always ejaculate.

So you ALMOST cured cancer by masturbating !!  

I want my 3 minutes back.  The story needs a disgusting ending.

Hypothetically speaking, If I had ever had this problem, I would have figured it out without medical help.

Funny as hell!!!  I loved the "Just didn't know the dosage" part.

uh............................................

Next time, just go in the bathroom and freakin' finish, man.

That was great.  The only thing that could have made it even better would have been working a Seeing Eye Cat in there somehow.

ONCE THE GUN IS COCKED, THE GUN MUST BE FIRED.

That is all.

Totally hilarious.  Thanks for that.

Quoted: Next time, just go in the bathroom and freakin' finish, man.

Another word of wisdon from Gabby.

No pain, No game.
Though it seems the game was not worth the pain this time.

Blue Balls.

So, are they OK now?  

I'll let my son know in a few years.

Man, after the one shity day I have had.....That was great man....funny stuff...

Thanks.

Sorry , but I'm calling

Because there isn't a teenage male alive that doesn't
wax the wand at least twice a day , and it isn't something
that anyone needs to teach you

Quoted: Next time, just go in the bathroom and freakin' finish, man.

Go make me a sammich back ho.

I may have an equally stupid story...

First time I got blue balls and didn't have a clue what was wrong...

I put BEN GAY on 'em.

My boys have never burned so bad in their life, as I quickly sat in the tub at 1am just rubbing the bengay off trying to ease the torture I had smote upon them.

From then on, I knew why the Bible says it's OK to masturbate for health reasons.  

Quoted: In the spirit of such threads as “you can’t bring fire on a plane!” and the overtly embarrassing barf incident at the buffet, I bring you my tale of personal agony not for the sheer emotional release of it but more for the betterment of mankind... and I emphasize the man in “mankind.” My story begins during what was supposed to be merely a pleasant ride home from a friend’s house about 35 minutes from my own home.  We had been hanging out watching a couple of movies in the basement but it was getting late.  I said goodbye and hopped into my green ‘96 Blazer and headed out.  I had just graduated high school and life was good... right up until I got into my vehicle. I noticed a slight dull pain in the one place men pray to never get pain.  That’s right... something wasn’t quite right with my kiwis.  “No biggie,” I thought... perhaps I just hit a bump or sat on it wrong.  Testicles are sensitive creatures and this is nothing to worry about. As the I made my way home, the pain became greater and greater.  By the time I got to my driveway and out of the car, I could barely walk.  I got inside and looked at the stairs and thought to myself, “there is no way in hell I am getting up those.”  Climbing them would be akin to scaling the Great Pyramid... with someone kicking you in the jibblies. I quietly made my way to the computer room and gently, oh so carefully, sat down.  The pain was unbearable.  I immediately opened up several Internet Explorer windows and typed feverishly into Metacrawler, Alta Vista, and Yahoo search engines.  This was before the Google craze, so I had to sift through an abnormal amount of fetish porn.  After clicking on any website with the keywords “acute pain in the testicles,” there was only a few logical conclusions: I have testicular cancer, I’m going to die, and, at this point, the latter is perfectly acceptable. It was past midnight after this enlightening medical lesson and the pain had subsided enough for me to brave the Great Pyramid and sleep in my room.  No position was comfortable in bed and trying to “support the boys” was even more painful.  At some point, I passed out... most likely in tears out of fear of my impending death via cancer of the balls. I woke up mid-day to an empty house and only a dull pain in my dirty bits.  I solemnly picked up the phone and called my doctor.  The secretary asked what the reason for my requested visit was and I could only whisper “acute pain in my... testicles.”  She made me an appointment right away.  Clearly, she was married and knew that no man would call a doctor over such a thing unless he was near death. I slid into my Blazer and made my way to the doctor’s office.  God indeed has a sense of humor because the very next song on my CD player was “Big Balls” by AC/DC.  The irony was not lost on me and I promptly turned on the radio instead.  The album was on sale at Sam Goody... I should have skipped it in hindsight rather than give God a medium through which to mock me. Regardless of musical torment, I pulled into the doctor’s office a few minutes later and walked in with as little limp as possible.  I checked in with the receptionist and she smiled and asked what the appointment was regarding.  Swallowing my pride, I sheepishly told the second woman of the day “acute pain in my testicles.”  Receptionists must be trained not to chuckle out loud and she merely told me to take a seat. Within a few minutes I was called in.  I eyed the elevated bed they make you sit on and reflected upon how easy an SUV is to get situated in as opposed to this torturous device.  The doctor came in soon after and wasn’t nearly as shy as I was.   “Acute pain in the... testicles?” “Yep...” “It could be a number of things... one could be twisted or...” I cut him off and blurted out “it’s cancer isn’t it?” He said I was jumping to conclusions but, regardless, we would need to do a testicular exam.  So after telling two women that my berries were not in working order, I proceeded to let a grown man play with my partners in crime. Much to my happiness, he explained that there did not appear to be anything wrong.  No twisting, no lumps, nothing!  A few minutes prior I was about to request that they be removed but apparently the problem was not that bad. He calmly asked for a little more history of the prior evening, to which I will relate to you all.  I was indeed leaving my “friend’s house” but I failed to mention to all parties involved that it happened to be my girlfriend’s house.  My first girlfriend. We admittedly did a little bit of messing around in the basement... nothing to write home about but just enough, in the end, to write a story about.  My doctor pried for more information in timeline form and I began to wonder if he wanted me to start dictating a romance novel.   “Did you ejaculate?” Well, geez Doc... that’s rather blunt.  If you must know “I did not...” He paused and smiled ever so slightly.  The bastard knows something that I don’t... “It sounds like vasocongestion.” “Vaso-what?” I replied. “It is a buildup of blood when a male is very... errr... excited.  When said male does not... errr... release it can cause a great deal of pain.  It is quite common and almost expected.  Most people refer to it as ‘blue balls.’” I was beginning to catch on.  “So how do I cure this little problem?” He stuttered a bit... “One just needs to, uhh... release.” I excited blurted out, “You mean I just have to spank it??” “Yes... err, uhh... release.” “Hell, I can do that!” After a bit of awkward silence, I thanked him and he left me to myself so I could get dressed.  I walked out of that room with a big ol’ shit eating grin on my face.  No cancer, no death, and a new excuse to spank it.  Life doesn’t get much better than that. I approached the other receptionist, with whom one must check out with upon leaving. “I take it everything went well?  Do you need a prescription filled?” I couldn’t help myself.  “I’ve had the prescription for years... I just didn't know the dosage!” The joke was lost on her. I hate to leave the story at a rather anticlimactic ending, pun intended, but I never did again experience Blue Balls.  I will, however, forever live with the burning memories of what it feels like to look death in the eye and come to learn that I just need to play with myself. This story, however, is intended to better mankind.  My father taught me all of the important stuff in life: How to shoot, work on the car, re-use underwear, and fart in a manner that generally goes undetected by others.  The one thing he apparently skipped over was the inevitable condition in which your testicles feel like they’ve been tap-danced on. To all the fathers out there... tell your sons about the horrific affliction known as Blue Balls.  Avoiding it will only do one thing: Traumatize the poor bastard to the point he actually goes to the doctor. To this day, my father doesn’t know about the grudge that I hold against him.  I’d imagine that one night in the future, after a few beers, I’ll let the story rip, just as I have let it flow on a few rare and alcohol-induced occasions. And there is my most embarrassing story.  May it bring you all a few chuckles and make the lives of your sons less dramatic. -  BG

Not all that bright are you?

Quoted: Quoted: snip And there is my most embarrassing story.  May it bring you all a few chuckles and make the lives of your sons less dramatic. -  BG Not all that bright are you?

Clearly you missed the post right above yours.




- BG

tell your sons about the horrific affliction known as Blue Balls. Avoiding it will only do one thing

Hell, I have young Daughters.   They are going to learn how to GIVE Blueballs (at least until they are 75 years old and safely in a Cloistered Convent)

Quoted: Next time, just go in the bathroom and freakin' finish, man.

If your ovaries felt like they were getting trambled, would you immediately think you should start double-clicking your mouse to a dirty movie?





- BG

Quoted: It's freaking hilarious.  Thanks for posting it.

WTF?

Quoted: You would NOT believe the quantity of semen involved or the force at which it left the body.   It would have been quite easy to hose down the ceiling from a sitting position,  if I'd tried. I'd imagine maybe three shot glasses full,  at a guess. CJ

Is Peter North, your Porn Name.

Quoted: Quoted: Next time, just go in the bathroom and freakin' finish, man. If your ovaries felt like they were getting trambled, would you immediately think you should start double-clicking your mouse to a dirty movie? - BG

Now THAT's funny.

ou would NOT believe the quantity of se

AGH!  OKAY!  Even on ARFCOM there is such a thing as TOO MUCH INFO!

Great, great story, Bucc_Guy!!

I'm not sure which is more embarrassing, though - the story you just told, or the story behind (pun intended!) your avatar...

Either way, this board knows more about your nether regions than we ought to!!  

The question is, how many men have you personally cured since you found this out.

tag for my classics file.

That is the funniest thing I've read this year.  Bravo!

-James

Quoted: Sorry , but I'm calling Because there isn't a teenage male alive that doesn't wax the wand at least twice a day , and it isn't something that anyone needs to teach you

twice???  Try 7...  Right guys???



right????

lol- The good ol days of "jeans sex"

Quoted: Quoted: Sorry , but I'm calling Because there isn't a teenage male alive that doesn't wax the wand at least twice a day , and it isn't something that anyone needs to teach you twice???  Try 7...  Right guys??? right????

I don't think I've ever gone past 5.





Whoops, did I say that out loud?

Quoted: lol- The good ol days of "jeans sex"

I thought about it for a few minutes and I'm coming up dry as to why those days were any good.

- BG


EDIT:  Got it:  No VD!

Quoted: Quoted: Quoted: Sorry , but I'm calling Because there isn't a teenage male alive that doesn't wax the wand at least twice a day , and it isn't something that anyone needs to teach you twice???  Try 7...  Right guys??? right???? I don't think I've ever gone past 5. Whoops, did I say that out loud?

You've never been really, really, really, really bored have you???  


Not that I have.  

Quoted: I hate to laugh at your expense, but I will.  I always thought blue balls was a made up thing that you guys tell us just to get us to have sex with you.  Thanks for clearing up a life long misnomer.

Damnit...

Is your name Melissa by any chance?





- BG

sp1girl its real, the only time i ever had them i had to ride my bike 5 miles home, the next day my GF at the time took care of the problem... and thats another funny as hell moment in my life

First let me say bravo for sharing such a...ah "Sensitive" story. And I guess seeing that my story happened 12 years ago I can add a +1 with a simalar experence. Not to "steal your thunder" but....

One night I went to sleep a happy and healthy 18 yr old male, The next morning I awoke a very unhappy and very painful pup, My problem you see wasnt with my "Berries" as you put it, but with my, well... you get the point. I awoke to a rather large, ....well swolen to be exact, member. The fact the it was swolen didnt worry me too much, as with any heathly young man I had awoken to many a stiff member, The problem lay in the fact that it waas easily twice its normal size, trobbing pain and the fanciest shade of vermillion I'd ever seen.

Of course my first thought was VD!. Well my first thought was actually WTF!. So technically my second thought was VD OMFG!!!!
To the ER for little Udog!.
First problem was the cute little nurse or whatever that was at the front desk,. "What seems to be the problem"? see asked. "Um" "Um, I have a knot in my groin"......Yeah that's the ticket, quick thinking Udog, just stay calm and cool.

So i wait the longest 45mins of my life before im allowed into the back....Second problem.... I was taken to not a private room but a large room seperated by "sheets" dividing the room into 4 parts. 4 occupied parts.... Where I was instructed to remove my clothing and wait.....
10mins later.... Third problem.... A nurse...A female nurse comes in and asks to see my swolen groin....

Reluctantly I do so, to which see replys.....at 100Db's..... "THAT NOT YOUR GROIN, THATS YOUR PENIS SON"... You coulda heard a pin drop, well you could if not for the laughter coming from my follow "Roommates".... "What is it"? I ask, "Will I live"?.....More laughter...
"I Dont know son, I aint never seen that before"......Great..... Not only do I have VD, Ive got some new terrible strain.
"You'll have to wait for the doc"

In comes the doc, "It says here youve got a swolen area......" ......." THATS NOT YOUR GRION, THATS YOUR PENIS"........  laughter.....,. I know doc, is it VD, Am I going to die?  "Doesnt look like any VD Ive ever seen".....More laughter from my roommates.... "We'll run a test or two, but I think its and allergy".  An alergy? to what? "HAVE YOU HAD YOUR PENIS ANYWHERE ITS NOT SUPPOSE TO BE?"  laughter.... a lot of laughter. J... C... doc! like WTF  are you talking about?  "Never mind well just run a quick swab"

Now the average male penis is pretty sensitive as it is, but try to imagine the averge male penis 2 times to big and the prettiest shade of vermillion, and mix in the BIGGEST GD COTTON SWAB ever created by man and you get the point.....

To make a long story short, the day before I had picked up my GF from the dentist and she was happy to see me., very happy and, how should I put it,, "Greatful"

Thats how I came to learn that lttle Udog was allergic to Flouride

Quoted: First let me say bravo for sharing such a...ah "Sensitive" story. And I guess seeing that my story happened 12 years ago I can add a +1 with a simalar experence. Not to "steal your thunder" but.... One night I went to sleep a happy and healthy 18 yr old male, The next morning I awoke a very unhappy and very painful pup, My problem you see wasnt with my "Berries" as you put it, but with my, well... you get the point. I awoke to a rather large, ....well swolen to be exact, member. The fact the it was swolen didnt worry me too much, as with any heathly young man I had awoken to many a stiff member, The problem lay in the fact that it waas easily twice its normal size, trobbing pain and the fanciest shade of vermillion I'd ever seen. Of course my first thought was VD!. Well my first thought was actually WTF!. So technically my second thought was VD OMFG!!!! To the ER for little Udog!. First problem was the cute little nurse or whatever that was at the front desk,. "What seems to be the problem"? see asked. "Um" "Um, I have a knot in my groin"......Yeah that's the ticket, quick thinking Udog, just stay calm and cool. So i wait the longest 45mins of my life before im allowed into the back....Second problem.... I was taken to not a private room but a large room seperated by "sheets" dividing the room into 4 parts. 4 occupied parts.... Where I was instructed to remove my clothing and wait..... 10mins later.... Third problem.... A nurse...A female nurse comes in and asks to see my swolen groin.... Reluctantly I do so, to which see replys.....at 100Db's..... "THAT NOT YOUR GROIN, THATS YOUR PENIS SON"... You coulda heard a pin drop, well you could if not for the laughter coming from my follow "Roommates".... "What is it"? I ask, "Will I live"?.....More laughter... "I Dont know son, I aint never seen that before"......Great..... Not only do I have VD, Ive got some new terrible strain. "You'll have to wait for the doc" In comes the doc, "It says here youve got a swolen area......" ......." THATS NOT YOUR GRION, THATS YOUR PENIS"........  laughter.....,. I know doc, is it VD, Am I going to die?  "Doesnt look like any VD Ive ever seen".....More laughter from my roommates.... "We'll run a test or two, but I think its and allergy".  An alergy? to what? "HAVE YOU HAD YOUR PENIS ANYWHERE ITS NOT SUPPOSE TO BE?"  laughter.... a lot of laughter. J... C... doc! like WTF  are you talking about?  "Never mind well just run a quick swab" Now the average male penis is pretty sensitive as it is, but try to imagine the averge male penis 2 times to big and the prettiest shade of vermillion, and mix in the BIGGEST GD COTTON SWAB ever created by man and you get the point..... To make a long story short, the day before I had picked up my GF from the dentist and she was happy to see me., very happy and, how should I put it,, "Greatful" Thats how I came to learn that lttle Udog was allergic to Flouride

You, sir, have officially stolen the thunder.



Priceless.


- BG