On a bitterly cold January evening, about a year ago, I was outside peeing with my two blue heelers, Bear and Spot. We live out in the country so I sometimes relieve myself along with them. I think it helps us to bond as a pack, plus we only have one bathroom and sometimes, well, you just gotta go.
Since we live in a rural area we have a television antennae mounted on a twelve foot tall aluminum tower that happens to sit in the general area of where the dogs and I like to do our business. On this particular evening I had partaken in a few adult beverages so I was a bit unsteady on my feet. While I was urinating by the tower I stumbled forward a bit and when I went to straighten up realized that the end of my penis had frozen to the aluminum. I immediately tried to pull back and found, with great discomfort, that this was not an option.
I would like to take a moment to explain here that I was not dressed in any way for an extended stay outside where the temperature was -1 and the wind was blowing a good 20 miles an hour. I was wearing sweats, a t-shirt, stocking cap, and coat that I had haphazardly thrown on before heading out with the mutts.
My first thought was that I could just pee some more and thaw myself that way. It turns out that my “pee hole” was the part of my junk that was frozen on the tower and the only result was some of the fiercest pain I have ever experienced in my groin, bar none. Try finding a tiny cork and plug up your urethra sometime, it’s unforgettable.
While all of this was going on I began to really start feeling the sub-zero cold and realized for the first time that I may be in some real trouble. @jonsblond was in the house watching a movie in the bedroom and I wasn’t even sure she knew that I had come outside. Yelling for help was out of the question because the house is brick and incredibly well insulated. When it’s shut up tight for the winter you can’t even hear the wind howling outside. Straight up panic hadn’t set in yet but it was lingering close by. I tried to apply some of my saliva to the affected area but the cold immediately robbed it of whatever thawing properties it may have had. This is when I remembered the Milk Bones in my coat pocket.
I always take a couple of treats with me when I go out with the dogs to reward them for doing their number ones and number twos where it is acceptable, instead of in the house. The two of them were sitting about three feet away from me and staring expectantly, wondering when I was going to stop fucking around and give them their due for being such good boys. My desperate, and admittedly less than sober mind, struck upon a brilliant idea. I would chew up some of the Milk Bone and then apply it to my tortured member. When the dogs came to lick it off I would (did I mention they’re droolers?) be free and we could get back in where it was not five billion degrees below zero and my dick wasn’t stuck like Flick’s tongue in A Christmas Story.
I took a bite of the treat and chewed, mildly wondering what the hell Bear and Spot saw in them. They taste like shit covered cardboard. Once I had masticated it to a paste like consistency I applied it to my tortured member and whistled for Bear hoping to a God I don’t believe in (c’mon what God would let this happen?) that nobody with a camera would pop out of the bushes a yell, “Gotcha!”
Bear wandered over, a bit uncertain, and then sniffed at the source of my current problem. Once he had deemed it Canine Kosher he took a might lick and instantly found his tongue stuck to the antennae alongside my now numb (and was it actually turning blue?) penis. He tried to pull away as I had and, when he became aware that he was stuck, uttered a sorrowful, “MARF!”.
This caused Spot, the more high strung of the two litter mates, to begin barking crazily in a high pitched barkbarkbarkbarkbark that traveled up the base of my spine to my brain and finally drove me over the edge in to complete panic. My penile predicament was driven entirely from my mind and all I could think of was shutting the fucking dog up. I randomly reached in to the pocket of my coat and my hand closed around a hard object that felt like it was up to the task. I whipped it at Spot and realized , as soon as it left my hand, that I had just thrown my cell phone at the dog. Bear tried to call me an idiot but all that would come out was another, “MARF!”.
I uttered a sobby, breathless, “Fuck!” and knew that I was going to have to do some serious damage to my manhood. All of the times I had told anybody to quit fucking around and “just rip it off, like a band-aid” came back to haunt me as I steeled myself for judgement day. That’s when @jonsblond stepped in to my view holding a steaming glass of water and a tired look on her face.
She quickly freed both Bear and myself from our icy prison and turned to go back in the house, but not before she had muttered, “I told you this would happen someday.”
Composing members:
0
Composing members:
0
