- jello time -
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Pudding Time...man that song stirs up a rowdy pit! 
Whatever it is, there's no way I'm looking at it. I just got my tonsils out last Friday and after 5 days of Jell-O consumption, the thought of it makes chunder.
Buck Fever said:
Oh man...that sucks ass...I got mine out when I was 15 and it was the most horrific thing imaginable...
The whole tonsil aspect of it was totally bearable. I had a few "issues" that made the experience something to remember for a while.dh girlie said:
While coming out of the anesthesia, I had an allergic reaction to the antibiotic they gave me. I was so out of it, all I heard was something about "Clamzilla" which I later found out was some sort of cl??mycin. For some reason, possibly relating to the allergic reaction, my heart rate was over 160 for over five hours. I got a totally sweet workout while just sitting around. I could tell something was up, so I asked the nurses while about three of them were standing around me with their clipboards and another was calling a doctor and they all said nearly in unison, "oh nothing, you're doing just great."
Once I finally got home, I told my wifey to be about the whole incident and we were laughing so hard about imaginging what the hell a clamzilla would look like, that I must have pulled the stitch that was holding closed the blood vessel from hell. I came to find out in a most shocking way that I swallowed about a pint of blood.
So I called the doctor (as I was warned about this) to meet her in the office to cauterize the offending bleeder. Of all the things that I find uncomfortable, the idea of someone mucking around in the back of my throat while I'm conscious just about tops the list. She came at me with a hemostat clamped on what looked like the biggest tampon ever made which had been dipped in something to "suppress that reflex." So I proceded to gag my brains out and nearly hurl all over my wonderful ENT while she stuck sticks tipped with silversomethingorother in the holes where my tonsils used to be.
I felt good enough the next morning for a little bedroom funtime after which, my lovely made me some eggs. It took me an hour to eat one egg and another six hours of wretching to finally rid myself of it. Ugg. I was in bed for a solid two days after that.
Now I'm in the process of losing the scabs and had the treat of gagging up the stitch this morning. I've never craved a bacon cheeseburger with avocado so much in my life and I can't wait until my breath doesn't smell like an ass factory.
Glad to have those nasty little things out though, they were becoming quite the PIA.
Damn...you must be really good in the sack or look like David Beckham to have your wife willing to let you pant in her face with breath that smells like an ass factory...Buck Fever said:
Why can't I be both?dh girlie said:
It's irrelevant though because I neither look like Beckham nor can I perform wild acrobatics without the aid of several spotters. Truth be told I think she's really in love with my dog, who loves her to pieces. But I do what I can to keep her smiling. Thankfully, she could neither see me without twisting nor smell my hot garbage breath with our position (at least for most of the duration, who knows how she allowed it at all.)