Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Don't get in a flap

I figured after my last trip to see a doctor, then next one should be to a gynecologist.

To work out the next steps in my sex-change operation (I just threw that in as a cheap way to pick up more readers).

Actually, she is the doctor at the private clinic who has the ultrasound gadget to burn off little skin flaps that we old people sometimes get. I had one on my leg that had been annoying me for a long time, rubbing raw against my pantleg. Thrown, hogtied and branded. Easy as that.

If there is a reason that a gynecologist has this machine, I don't want to know about it.


  1. Wait. Are these flaps actually skin tags? Because if they are, and you haven't just started hacking them off yourself, it's time to grab your scissors for a really good time. Seriously.

  2. I figured I'd bleed all over if I just cut them off. Burning them off makes sure no blood. I hate blood. Especially mine.

  3. I congratulate you on finally marshaling the courage to have a sex change operation. Since you are a donkey, it must have been hard to find a vet who is skilled in performing the procedure on nonhuman mammals.

  4. That's Jackass, not Donkey. Just ask my children.

  5. "That's Jackass, not Donkey."

    Please forgive me. No insult was intended.

  6. The cheaper solution? Tie a thread tightly around it , put a bandage on it and wait a week. Saved me a doctors trip.
    As for the sex change you're on your own there.


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