I closed a contest show at Roosters recently. Let me get right to the point. One of the comics went on stage and told a story about the time he lost an inch and a half off the tip of his dick in a lumber accident. Lumber accident. So ironic! Apparently he was carrying a heavy beam. He dropped his end, or load if you want to continue the bounty of sexual innuendo that this story is! It didn't just fall at his feet though. No. It fell on top of another hard surface (I am letting that one go) trapping an inch and a half of his dick between the not so proverbial rock and hard place. Ever see a crowd of men wince collectively? I have now. What made the story great was this nugget of detail. "A hallo of blood started spreading from my groin." A dare you to close your eyes and not picture that horrific scene. Oh but the best part isn't over yet. The best part was after he finished his set, he sat down with his friends in the front row. The front row!
I turned to another comic in the back of the room and said, "Oh. I am sooo fucking with him!"
The second worse day of his life was the day he lost an inch and a half of his dick in an accident. The worse day has to be the night I got on stage and that was the first ten minuets of my set.
He kept referring to his dick as, The Duggan. The Duggan? The Duggan. There is something about putting the word The right before the pet name for your dick that feels weird. The Duggan. Like it's royalty with a family crest or a Seinfeld episode. I call mine, the Mulligan. I always want to do it over.
Oh the poor guy.
But life had the last laugh on me. He was a good sport. I put my hand out at the end for the guy fist pound thing. He graciously returned the man bonding gesture. That's when I noticed the wedding ring. Wedding ring!? This dude lost an inch and a half off his dick in some freak wood accident (Wood accident indeed) and has a wife, but I went home that night to jack-off to memories of my X girlfriend with tears for lube with a perfectly good dick? Oh yeah. Life's fair!