Franken Balls

tommyrawblog@gmail.com

Check your package!

Both present and accounted for!!




With all the overwhelming

abundance of heaviness

in our lives at times...

sometimes you just

have to give in,

say fuck it,

and run away from

that real life abundance,

if only for a few moments,

and simply read about a dudes'

scrotum surgery!

See...

it could always be worse! LoL

Franken Balls

Okay Thomas...

start counting down from 100 for me...


“100... 99... 98... 97...................”

It all begins so innocently enough doesn't it?

A hazy countdown leading you right into
the drop dead darkness of
an O.R. black hole.


That's Operating Room for you slow pokes!!

And then somehow the black beyond is gone, and you awaken in a strange new environment surrounded by a calming hustling bustle. With people quietly scurrying around within the numbing malaise of never ending attempts to appease and please the occupants.

You're surgery was a success!
And you'll live to see the sunshine
for at least one more day... maybe.

A calming sensation engulfs you
within it's warm confines of smiling elation. You're still alive.
Yes... muthafucka... you're still alive!

Well okay, just how the hell
did I end up here...
under the proverbial blade anyways?

Well about 8 years ago maybe 9 by now, I began to notice my nut-sac beginning to grow in size. Yeah, that's right, the scrotum.
There, happy?

Oh please, take it easy will ya!

I'm just talkin' about my package,
you're not handling it for goodness sake.
Hang in there, it's funny!

Well of course the very first thing I thought
after noticing my inflated state
was that I had the cancer of the nutz.

Turns out I didn't.

The doc confirmed that it was something called a hydrocele. A fluid build up within the lining just beneath the outer sac skin.
I love calling it “the sac”... LoL

Hey, it's my junk and I'll call it
whatever the fuck I wanna call it mofo!

He also said that it was most likely a side affect from the minor hernia surgery I had less than a year prior. And that it was very much a typical occurrence after such a procedure. Also that most guys just leave it be until if and when it becomes too cumbersome down the road.
Then they opt for the long term fix.

But a small majority do jump at the fix
right away, and go for the surgery.
Well not me, pussy boy...
I decided to run from that blade
just as fast as my feets would run!
(and yes I know I said feets... you knucklehead)

Eight to nine years later, here I am, with a sac the size of a baby pitbull’s head hiding behind my zipper. Yeah, it was pretty big,
and beginning to bother me a bit.


Ya think??


But, I can't really complain though.
I've had a lot of fun with that
baby pitbull head throughout the years.

How you ask?

Well first off, it really made me look like my junk was huge. I actually got to experience what the guys who actually did have pitbull head's for junk in their pants got to experience.

And I gotta tell ya, it was fuckin' awesome!

You lucky bastards you!

You won the fucking gene-pool

lottery of cock 'n balls.

Or frank 'n beans if you will.

That bulge in my pants was like a fuckin' magnet to women. They couldn't keep their eyes off of it. It was amazing!


You should have seen all the looks I got over the years. They were constantly undressing me with their eyes. Especially when they got a glimpse of "the bull" while I was sitting down.


I would slap atop my thigh as I sat
and it really looked impressive I gotta say.
But I felt so used, and cheap at times.
Oh shut up, that was funny dude!


And also along the way, I was told on several occasions that the way my big baby pitbull head sac loudly slapped up against their asses
as we plowed doggy style was an utter
and absolute turn on... thank you!

Fuck, I love having big balls!

I even asked the doc on several occasions throughout these past years if there was a way to somehow enlarge my actual cock size and bring it up to the same proportion as my sac.

((In fact you'll be reading about my initial visit
to the doctor when the baby pitbull
first reared it's swollen head in the near furture.
She was so cute, and I'll just leave it at that))

As for gaining cock size, hey, symmetry is everything when you pull those pants down for the very first time in front of a new girl. Remember, you never get a second chance
to make a good first impression!
And again... that was funny dude! C'mon! LoL

Well, the moment had arrived. It was finally time to put that now full grown pitbull head... to bed!

So I made the call and soon found myself sitting in my primary care physicians office. Just me, and my head's, all 3 of'em of course.
(Please don't make me hav'ta explain that)

After a few pleasantries and a hug, hey, my doc is really awesome. He actually answers his own phone even when he doesn't have office hours. And, better yet. He actually made time to meet up with me out on the roadways because I desperately needed some paperwork for my job. How cool is that shit!? Definitely calls for the hug and not just a stupid handshake.

I then told him the whole back story to my dilemma, since he wasn't my doc throughout
the pitbull days. Well once I got him up to
speed, I stood up and dropped my draws.

And you should have seen the complete look of fright that immediately filled his face. Suddenly my swollen sac 'o suds wasn't so funny any more. It should go without sayin'
that I was a bit freaked out by this.

Well after some poking and prodding, he gave me his assessment. And what he told me made my fuckin' toes curl. He explained to me that he believed it wasn't just a fluid build up. That there was the possibility of a second, more complicated pitbull residing within my sac.

He believed that the hernia had returned, and that my bowel had pushed it's way through said hernia, into my scrotum. Joining forces with the already present fluids. Thus creating
my full grown pitbull head.

Holy mutha of fuck.

I wanted to just throw up right there
on the spot after hearing that.

I reacted with all the grace and charm
of a longshoreman as I said...

... “What the fuck does that mean doc!? Did you just tell me that my fuckin' colon, my fuckin' ass... is living in my fucking nut sac!?”

“That's exactly what I'm sayin'!

You have a kink in your hose Tommy.”

Again I just wanted to puke as I stood there and thought about my fucking intestines, my ass dude... my fuckin' ass... was pushing it's way into my balls. How fucked up does that sound!?

And so to investigate further, he sent me to a Urologist. And within minutes of talking to him, along with some more prodding, and a quick sonogram later, he confirmed the fact
that it was indeed just... the hydrocele.
And that my ass was not... pitching a tent
within my swollen sac 'o nutz.


But he told me that he could also understand
my other doc's diagnosis as well.
And put my mind at ease.

Suddenly, I once again had my fun,
fully grown pitbull head in my pants.
Instead of a dangerous sac 'o ass.

Finally, there I was...

“100... 99... 98... 97............”

The procedure was a success. Much less complicated than pulling my ass outta my sac and stuffing it back into place. And I found myself waking up amongst the calming
hustling bustle of the recovery room.

“Oh there you are Thomas, you're awake!
Can you move your toes for me?”

A rather simple request dont'cha think?


Well I couldn't!


I got all nervous, and as the nurse saw my panic, she quickly explained that the numbing sedative they used just hadn't worn off completely yet. But within the next few minutes I began to wiggle those mutha F'ing digits of mine.

What an awful feeling that was not being able to move, well anything below my waist that is. My nutz are shriveling up right this moment as I type just thinking about those few moments
of helpless anticipation.

Soon I regained full control of my extremities just as my mom and dad found their way to my bedside. My parents are the fuckin' best,
and I love them tons.

And before I knew it I was sitting in the front seat of dad's car on my way to their house to spend the night. The entire hospital visit only lasted 5 shorts hours, soup to nutz, and I was outta there. That hospital was a well-oiled machine to say the least.


Wait a minute...
did I just say "soup to nutz"?? LoL
I didn't even realize how funny that was!

Well after spending only one night at my parents house, as grateful as I felt, I needed to get the fuck home! I was in zero pain, and unbelievably didn't need any medication whatsoever.

My parents fully understood my wanting to bail out. It would have been a different story if I were in pain. I had even packed my bag for a several night stay in anticipation
of a painful couple of days.

I guess my doc fondled my nutz with kid gloves. Cool. But, it was time to go. And being that it was St, Patrick's day weekend, my mom shoved a fully cooked corned beef under my arm and sent me on my way. Hugs 'n kisses all around,
and off I went.

I now had 3 glorious weeks of time off from work ahead of me. Albeit my balls were as swollen, beat up, and black 'n blued as Rocky's face was after his bout with Apollo Creed. But I was home, and in no real pain, so life was good.

That's what my nutz looked like... LoL
Part black, part blue, part white with red all around... LoL

Suddenly going under the blade wasn't such a frightening ordeal at all. Until a few days later, when I was finally allowed to take my first shower. Holy fuckin' shit!

Finally, it was time to strip away
the 4 day layer of life in decay.


I was about to get my first glance
at my poor beat up nut sac
since it was sliced in two.
Ouch!


I pulled my shirt off, dropped my sweats to the floor and stepped out of them. Then pulled down the white stretch underwear that the nurses somehow got on me while I was out on the table.


Powerful broads huh?
I must've been dead weight.


The whitey tighties were like those clingy sport shorts that the bicyclist's wore. Same size,
only these were cotton white
with the feel of an Ace bandage.


So now I had nuthin' left to remove but the ton of gauze pads and clear plastic bandaid-like covering holding it all in place. The shower was nice and warm, not too hot.


I stepped in and the first few drops that hit me felt sublime.


I scrubbed up my entire body clean and left
my black 'n blued friend for last.


I slowly began to peel away the clear bandaid. The stickiness hurt some as I slowly pulled but I kept goin'. The warm water eased the pain some.


Then, all of the sudden, massive amounts of bright red blood began running down the length of my leg and being swallowed up
by the hungry drain below.


I began freaking the fuck out.


Of course the first thought I had was that I pulled the stitches out and was about to either bleed to death. Or watch my two nutz fall outta my sac, plop onto the tube floor, and then follow the blood down the fucking drain,
you muthafucka you! LoL


My mind was flying with disastrous scenarios.


I tried to reapply the bandaid thing but it was too late. The water was making it impossible. So I just kept removing the covering so I could get
a handle on what was going on.


My hands were shaking at that point.


Finally I was able to fold the gigantic gauze covering over to one side. And when I did,
my spinning mind was put at ease.


You see, all the blood I saw running down my leg came from the mounds and mounds of blood-soaked gauze pads, and not from my sad sac, pitbull-less bulge. He, my sac, was fully intact! Oh yeah!!


The covering finally let go, and I got a look at my poor pitbull-less sac 'o nutz for the very first time since I went under the blade. And holy fuck.


I went from having a fully grown magnetic pitbull head in my sac, to a fuckin' Franken-sac.


You should have seen all the stitches dude. I'm gonna have a gigantic scar right there on the very front of my package. Just like that scar that Frankenstein had on his fuckin' forehead
for goodness sake.


Fuck...
I'm gonna have fuckin' Franken-Balls
for crap sake.

Suddenly I went from having a chick magnet pitbull head in my pants
to having fucking Herman Munster there... LoL
What chic is gonna wanna shove Herman fuckin' Munster into their mouth???

C'mon man, really, what chick is gonna wanna make out with my sac now? I'm gonna have to date only Goth chicks exclusively from now on.


I'm sure they would completely dig sinkin' their teeth into a set of Franken-Balls.


Oh c'mon dude...
that's fuckin' funny and you know it!
That's my "A" material.


I'm now one week and a day post surgery...
all is well.


The pitbull head is gone.
Even Rocky's face is clearing up.


Still no pain.
The stitches are still in and so I'm gonna hold off on hitting up the Goth dating sites just yet. I don't wanna line up a mouth only to disappoint
if the scar isn't as bad as I'm thinking
it's going to be.


Don't wanna false advertise now do I?


So, I may have to gingerly yank the crank myself for a while to ease the pressure. Some things never change do they... LoL


Maybe I could go back to that Steven King
semen clinic if I have trouble completing the task. I seemed to do pretty well there
if I remember correctly.


All joking aside, don't think for a second that I don't understand just how lucky I've been throughout this entire ordeal okay.


From the compassionate doc, to the attentive hospital, to my amazing compassionate parents. Just awesome all the way 'round!


I do realize that it could have gone
very differently.


One slip of the knife and I could have been
a man down, if you get my drift. I was one sneeze away from breaking up the pair!


So I can deal with whatever kind of scar I end with, Goth chicks or not. Hell, I might even get some sympathy “head” from normal non-Goth women because of it.


Hey ya never know right?
Craigslist... here I come!


Franken-Balls... LoL...
too fuckin' funny!