Pity Dr. William J. Morton, a Pennsylvania urologist who had to untangle the "matted hair" around a "pus-oozing" scrotum that had "swollen to twice the size of a grapefruit" in a "disgusting use of quotation marks." The man whose scrotum this carnival of nightmares was taking place on "had injured himself in the machine shop where he worked, and had closed the laceration himself with a heavy-duty stapling gun ... used in putting up wallboard." As difficult as it might seem to not deserve whatever you have coming to you after that decision, just remember ...
Courtesy your nightmares
Imagine the citric acid is pus and you'll have the idea of it.
The poor scrotum was paying the wages of sin for its owner, a machinist who could find no stimulation more effective than frotting a high-powered drive belt. Yes, while his coworkers were at lunch, he was doing to industrial machinery what most of us do to old pillows with our ex-girlfriend's picture clothes-pinned to them.
His left testicle and the 75 million potential genius children who lived there.
In an article like this, you expect a little castration; otherwise, where's the fun? But you certainly don't need to know a man exists who makes love to machinery that, in the act of claiming his testicle for its warrior charm necklace, hurled him across the room.
Once you reluctantly learn such a man walks the earth (with a limp), it's no surprise that his solution was to staple his scrotum shut and go about his day.
Parks Dept, believe it or not
Still, that had to have been weird for the janitor to find.
This is not a man thwarted by cartoonish violence or tattered genitals. This is an American machinist, modern heir to the smiths of yore! His lunch break makes "hyena tickler" look like a promising career. And when that whistle blows, the job is to screw machines before they screw you.
How It Could Have Been Avoided:
I don't want all of my responses to be "By not having sex with/on something unsexy," so I looked this up in the Office Safety Protocols. It turns out the only mechanical masturbation precautions are to wear eye goggles and wash down the belt when you're done so as not to spread diseases to your coworkers. The union guidelines add that you should limber up before and afterward by taking a bribe.
Pennsylvania Grapefruit is a magnificent term.
Some things don't mix: Water and electricity. The Internet and civility. People of different races. Wait, NO! Sorry, these are very old notes.
God bless this country
In fact, we may have chanced upon the super-soldier serum.
One combination that will forever be wrong, though, is genitals and power tools. That's why a Maryland couple had the foresight to attach a sex toy to a reciprocating saw blade before they inserted it into the woman. After all, electric blades can't cut through plastic, right?
Oh dear Jesus lord in heaven with the angels and grandma.
One physics lesson and an airlift later, doctors had learned the alien geometry of Ry'leh that splices holes and would keep them from ever enjoying sex again.
Ryan Murphy sneers at you
Doctor, does that look to you like a saw in a bifurcated vagiiiiIIIIEEEEEE!
This sliced vagina is even worse than the miracle of nature's destruction called childbirth, which at least comes with two free dinners: one when you date an unscrupulous man who swears he's wearing a condom, and the second when your body ejects a nutritious placenta.
How It Could Have Been Avoided:
If you're going to incorporate a Sawzall into your sex life, you're going to have to commit to permanently altering it for vaginal use. Safety demands it, and most couples want labia caked with sawdust about as much as finches want a birdhouse that smells like vagina.
Jinkies, Scoob, this is like some nightmarish engineer (possibly a machinist?) worked overtime to devise an even more misogynist version of the vagina dentata. This monstrosity kills all who approach it, depletes its host and then turns inside-out to consume itself. That's not a sex injury; that's a Klingon apocalypse myth. A hole that contains other holes within it is not nicknamed but scientifically classified as a Hypervagina.
Like a lot of casual athletes, Boeing engineer Kenneth Pinyan's interests seemed like a terrible ordeal to nonhobbyists. But whereas most of us can acknowledge the thrill of scaling sheer rock or looking Russell Crowe in the eye, very few recognize the sacred mysteries of large-mammal group bestiality.
Not how you expected a horse molester to look, right?
This is the kind of case that just didn't happen before the Internet. If half a dozen people in the same geographic area had grown up as zoophiles, the government would be doing emergency water quality tests. And even if that happened, none of them would admit it to each other. Or get together to film it. Or abandon their dying buddy at the hospital. Or just generally convince you humanity should be burned from the Earth.
courtesy Seattle Weekly
Now that's more like it.
Pinyan had pulled this gag before, albeit with a gentler, more attentive horse: the kind of horse every guy dreams of marrying. A noble, shimmering horse that would look you in the eye as he spewed buckets in your colon and never once consider rupturing your rectum.
That was not the horse Pinyan chose to give himself to this time.
For shame, Warner Bros.
Faint praise, copywriter dude. Faint praise.
Pinyan's first warning sign was the animal's gel-spiked mane and serious request to be called by its stupid MTV nickname. The second major concern would have been that his sex partner was a horse.
"Acute peritonitis due to perforation of the colon."
They say the worst thing in the world is for parents to bury a child, and the outer rim on that wheel of misery is burying your son after he was mortally wounded by horse penis. There are no words of consolation for the family of a man whose own body poisoned his equine-phallic internal injuries. It's the kind of thing that sounds really funny for a Van Wilder sequel, but is terrible in reality, much like the Van Wilder movies themselves.
How It Could Have Been Avoided:
Perhaps by having sex with fewer horses. Or more Shetland ponies. Or half a John Holmes. Or ... or ... gosh, there are so many wrong turns in the path to this fate, it's almost reassuring that nothing could have been done to stop it.
Crack and Pinyan, obviously.
Sex with Brendan McGinley only injures your reputation.
For more from Brendan, check out The 7 Most Terrifying Rejected TV Ads and 6 Pro-Gay Marriage Arguments for Fighting With Crazy People.