Mister Fixit rang me last night to tell me that he was okay but that he'd had a bit of a bingle on his way home from TAFE. He had rear-ended a car, and the motorbike had flipped under him causing him to go flying over the handlebars. He would have been completely fine (he tucked and rolled) except that as he sailed over the top of his bike he clipped one of the bike's mirrors so hard that it snapped off. That's gotta hurt you're probably thinking and yes I think it did hurt, particularly because the part of him that whacked that mirror so-hard-that-it-fell-off was his balls.
Now. You know how men are babies when they whack themselves in the knackers? Well, Fixit's adrenaline was running so high that despite the massive blow to his privates, he got straight up, assured all the other cars that he was fine, picked up his bike and got it off the road, picked up all the snapped-off bits of bike lying on the road, exchanged driver details with the car he'd hit and rang me to organise collection whilst only really registering that he had a bit of a stomach-ache.
Anyway. A couple of hours later, when he'd arrived home after all the palaver of getting the bike to a mechanic, we had a look and the damage was fairly awesome. Swelling and bruising doesn't quite convey the full picture so to help you with your mental image, let me say: Black (Inky black. All over. All. Over) and: Tennis ball. (Maybe even a bit bigger than a tennis ball, almost softball size.) You're welcome. Obviously we're not showing them anywhere but we just had to take photographs - his idea not mine - because despite the fact that he is now very sore and for the next fortnight I will be in no danger of being pestered for marital relations and he will be walking like a cowboy, the whole area is freakily impressive, in a very bad way. And the good news is there's no haemorrhaging or other problems, and as lots of people said to me, we had finished making children anyway.
So that, my friends, is the story of Ironballs Fixit. And he's not allowed to do it again.
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OMG a lot. That man does nothing by halves.
ReplyDeletePerhaps it is because I don't have a set but that was hilarious! Only a man would opt for a photo opportunity - I love him
ReplyDeleteYes. Life's never dull with ol' Ironballs around.
ReplyDeleteEeeeeek! Sounds very painful.
ReplyDeleteI like that you're looking on the bright side...hee hee
Oh, good lord. Poor Fixit! Maybe wear a cup next time? (Do they call it a cup down there? That bit of protection gents wear over their bits while doing sports and whatnot?)
ReplyDeleteNext time?! What next time?!
ReplyDeleteOh CRAP!
ReplyDeleteUm, is this the type of thing it might be worth calling and advice nurse or doctor about? Just in case there are symptoms that rear up down the road? It sounds like a pretty serious blunt trauma, and one would hate for him to end up with the nickname "uniball".
Ouch!! I hope he feels better soon!
ReplyDeleteHe's seen a doctor and had an ultrasound, it all looks fine. Just, you know, black and swollen.
ReplyDeleteI know it's not polite, but seriously, this post? ROTFLMAO! But my best to Fixit for a swift recovery.
ReplyDeleteof course he wanted a picture - nothing wins in a 'who is tougher' competition than something backed up with photographic evidence.
ReplyDeleteIts just the mental image of fixit flying through the air with his er...landing gear down that made me snort - sorry I'm a visual learner...
ReplyDeleteAnd this is pretty much why I am not reminding the Bloke that his motorbike has been unused in the shed for a year.
ReplyDeleteOuch.
Oh. My. God.
ReplyDeletePoor, poor man. He'll have a bag of frozen peas in his undies for the next month!
Tell him my hubby feels for him. Heh, he went an interesting shade of green when I told him!
my condolences to the plums. ouch!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the update! I'd hate for him to get a bloodclot or whatever it is that can go wrong with men's anatomy.
ReplyDeleteOkay, so now that that worry is out of the way, why not take a picture each day so you can make a little time lapse movie of his privates going back to normal? Or you could reverse it and scare the crap out of people.
I know, I know. With friends like me, you don't need an enemy.
What a man!
ReplyDeleteWoW!
ReplyDeleteI don't think I've ever read anything quite like this!
Those pics will come in handy when the boys start asking for motorbikes.
Brad has scars up and down his legs from when they had to rebuild his femur.
Since they've lived through it, it does help to have deterring stories for our boys, eh?
Good grief!
ReplyDeleteGlad he's ok (if very black in certain bits of his body)
Ow. That is hella nasty. Poor Fixit!
ReplyDeleteThough I must disagree with Cindy's assertion that only men would want photographic evidence. When
I ended up with one impressively black and purple boob (take two parts natural clumsiness, throw in one part post-partum exhaustion, and an IKEA child's rocking moose...), you betcha we took photos! (Not to *show*anyone though!)
That sounds EXTREMELY painful. Also highly amusing. At least it sounds like he has a sense of humour about it!
ReplyDeleteIf any of my three sons ever contemplate getting a motorbike can I borrow those photos?
ReplyDeleteCondolences to the mister. Does he realise this is the second post on your blog about his privates?
Ooh, word verif. is wingst. As in 'He flewe as if wingst threwe the twilighte ayre'.
Hourly application of frozen vegetables is recommended for this type of problem. Then you take a photo of his face as he applies them. THAT will make him remember not to do it again!!
ReplyDeleteJodie - landing gear?? What a fantastic term!
Yes, but where are the Ironballs picture Stomper??
ReplyDeleteI'm a GIRL and that made me cringe!
ReplyDeletePoor Fixit... but photos... really?
Men ARE obsessed with their privates!
Alas.
ReplyDeleteWhat that man will do to give you a subject for a blog post...
Wow.
ReplyDeleteHe's incredibly lucky. I'm glad he's okay.
Owwwch!
ReplyDeleteDid he cry? I would have.
Still, can we see the photos? He need never know! I know he looks good in dark colours, we have seen him in a suit!
There's a part of me that is utterly intrigued to see those photographs – there's just enough detail in your post for me to have a goodish visual image and I'm freaked-out-impressed. On balance, however, I'm very pleased that you are leaving everything up to the imagination. Poor poppet...
ReplyDeletepineapple. I just felt so bad for Mr. Fixit and was thinking about how when my hubby had something go wrong he was told to consume pineapple that helped break up clots and quicken healing. Who knows, it may be like the vick's rub on the bottom of your feet and something only my mother does, I don't know. Ouch. ouch ouch...
ReplyDeleteOw! Super ow! And did you have to try really hard not to laugh?
ReplyDeleteNow I have stopped laughing...
ReplyDeletenot at Fixit or his bruised balls ..but your vivid description is priceless...
I hope he and his goolies are in tip top shape and color real soon...
good to know that he's medically fine ..
and the pic will definitely come in handy if you want to convince the boys to avoid motorbikes when they get older!
This was even funnier now I've read it again, and knowing he's Back In The Saddle (god help me, I couldn't resist).
ReplyDeleteI have been signing "You can dance, you can dance; having the time of your life" at the top of my lungs.
My boys are not amused.
OMG. I have been a little out of the loop for a bit. Now I find stories like this, to send chills up my spine. I suspect it is lucky I am a girl, or the chills would be in other places.
ReplyDelete