A number of years ago, there was a story going around here in the upper midwest. It was the talk of all the morning radio DJs, specifically the wacky ones. For at least a week, maybe a month, you couldn't turn on your radio in the morning without hearing something about this guy. It seems he was a machinist with a little too much time on his hands at work, who had a little mishap. But here, let me tell you the whole story properly:
Down at the workshop, ol' Bob
got the belt-sander to give him a job
He was ready to squirt
then it suddenly hurt
as his nuts were ripped off by a knob.
The pain swung him 'round like a maypole;
it hurt from his eyes to his a-hole.
But Bob didn't flinch
from his balls being pinched;
he just closed up the wound with a staple.
Now Bob didn't go to the Doc
To see what was wrong with his cock
For seven whole days
"It's Swollen," he says,
To the nurse who is gasping in shock.
And why was she gasping, you ask?
It was swollen as big as a cask!
A barrel, a jar,
a grapefruit by far
it outsized, which is not a small task!
The doctor, upon seeing it,
barely held back from having a fit.
But he took out the staple,
saying just "Its old shape'll
return--it just pops like a zit."
And he squeezed that gelatinous mass,
Trying to get all that green pus to pass
through the wound in his sack--
but he squeezed front to back--
And the purulence shot out Bob's ass.
And that's how poor Bob used a sander
To make his sex life so much blander.
But it shows only fools
would try out power tools
when they'd do just as well with their hander.
