Tuesday, March 13, 2007


Stiff things

A woman in India has married a corpse. For some perverse reason this reminded me of my second year as a medical student when we spent a year dissecting a human cadaver. There were four of us to a body. The cadavers were preserved using a formalin-like substance, which smelled like the vapours from a freshly-opened grave and which filled the spongiform tissues in the body, causing them to expand. This meant that all the male cadavers sported prodigious erections. Gravity, however, took its inevitable toll and so the members in question were bent sideways.

One of my fellow students was a naïve young lady whose identity it would be caddish to reveal, so let’s call her Margaret Shuttleton of 27 Groveland Drive. ‘Gosh,’ said Margaret as the four of us stood gazing down at our newly unshrouded cadaver at the beginning of the year (1988).

‘Yes,’ I nodded, impressed at the size of the thing.

‘It must be really difficult,’ she murmured, spellbound.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘You know… having sex,’ she frowned. ‘With it bending to the side like that.’

‘You mean you thought…’ I said.

Which in turn reminds me of the following joke.

Professor of anatomy to pretty female first-year medical student: ‘What part of the human body expands to ten times its original size under an emotional impact?’

Pretty female medical student (blushing): ‘I’d rather not answer that.’

Smart-alec male medical student: ‘The pupil of the eye, Prof.’

Professor to pretty female medical student: ‘Not only are you ignorant, you’re also going to be very disappointed one day.’

Oh, I don't know; from tiny acorns etc.
Reminds me of the group of first-year medical students gathered around an operating table for their first anatomy lesson with a dead body.

“As a doctor, you’ll need to develop two key skills,” the professor begins. “The first is stoicism. You can’t be disgusted by anything involving the human body.”

The professor then rolls the body over, inserts his finger into the corpse’s anus, withdraws it and sticks his finger in his mouth.

“Now do the same,” he instructs.
The horrified students hesitate, but eventually take turns dipping a finger into the cadaver’s anus and then sucking on it.

When everyone has finished, the professor continues, “The second skill is observation. I stuck in my middle finger and then I sucked on my index finger. Pay attention.”
Jesus Kim, what's the matter with you?

Hi Eater. Didya send anything over to that rednose bloke?
Didya send him the cannibal stuff? Or do you think he's a bit high falutin' for us or what?
Send him the puppet stuff. That'll shake him up.
Sam: I and thousands of other modestly-endowed men greatly appreciate the sentiment.

Kim: that reminds me of the story about the psychology professor who brings a chimpanzee to class one day. 'I'm going to demonstrate the power of behavioural conditioning,' he says to the gathered students. 'No matter what I do to this chimp, he will still love and obey me'.

Whereupon he kicks the chimpanzee in the balls. The chimp doubles up in pain and the professor knees him under the chin. The ape sprawls backwards and the professor grabs him by the ankles and bashes his head repeatedly against the wall. Stunned and bewildered, the chimpanzee staggers to his feet, goes over to the professor, unzips his flies and starts giving him a blow job.

'Do any of you want to have a go?' asks the professor.

'I will,' pipes up one of the students, 'but please don't hit me as hard as you hit the monkey.'

Doc Maroon: yes, I sent him the first cannibal story, you sly psychic, you. I doubt it'll be accepted, though. And I don't believe you ever read that puppet story, my pride and joy.
reminds me of a story, I went to the doctor and he stuck his finger up my hole then licked it and sucked my knob, I said "you're one strange doctor" and he said "maybe so do you want to read my puppet story?"
Hello! Drunk I am onthe succcess of winning another fabulous Team Trivia Tuesday! God, you should have seen us, parrying our Panama Canal trivia here and there whilst showcasing our unsurpassable (for yards around) knowledge of Magic Realism. It would have made you proud to see a blogger from your own fold win such prizes, such intoxicating double shot prizes of which we won 3! And pudding!

And now I am here to tell you, fmc, Foots, Nanas, Kim, Andraste, Doccy M, Knoods, and all, all of us lot in our wee blogging village, how much I luuuurve you all! May we all live long and prosper, and, one of these peculiar days, even meet each other in real life!

Love and jolly good wishes to you all! Mwxah!
Foot Eater & Kim, if you don't object, I know a blog that would welcome these jokes - I don't have either one on my site yet.
Course I read the puppet stuff.
I still have the dreams.
did you know that Daphne Wayne Bough then pointed me in the direction of Heinrich von Kleist's essay 'On the Marionette Theatre' .
Small World.
Great story. I really got a rise out of it.
I had read about it yesterday whilst perusing the Indian Online News sites, always a fountain head of good stories there. I'm glad I didn't prepare a post.
I've just been back to re-read the cannibal post. It was the first one I ever commented on here! Once I got over my dismay at the "Hi, I'm Sam from next door and I've come to play!" tone of that, I settled down and enjoyed the brilliance of your tale. It's a good choice for submission to this thingymajig.

On my way there and back I revisited lots of great stuff and had altogether a very lovely, nostalgic time. I laughed, I cried (I spilt some hot tea on my tummy at around August in the archives) and laughed some more. Out loud, all by myself in the room, and that's when you know something's really funny.

Kim, I told your joke to some friends the other night and it was a hit. Unfortunately it reminded some of the party about other jokes in a similar vein - corpses, fingers in bums etc. and from thence I feel the tone of the evening suffered slightly. Don't ask me what any of these other jokes were; I was completely larroping by about 8:30.
Mr Knudsen: do you mean he licked his finger or licked your hole? Only one of those would be erotic.

Sam: I was looking at my links list and I reckon there are people there I could be really good friends with if I knew them in real life, others whose company I'd probably enjoy but whose mindsets I'd find I didn't have enough in common with to get beyond the jokes, and a small number who would probably piss me off but whose blogs I like. I name no names, of course.

Joke Mail: feel free. Though you might find yourself losing visitors.

Dr Maroon: Jesus, I'd forgotten about that 'von Kleist' pseudonym. I use so many.

Eddie: I'm glad I didn't prepare a post. So am I.

Sam again: August? That was rather a fallow month for me, but then I was just back from my honeymoon. The Fenby saga is set to continue soon. Whatever did happen to Inspector Shrike?
Fuck, Foots! I hope you realize that we're all sitting glumly around now going, "It's me isn't it? He hates me but is just too polite to say so."
I thought he hated you too Sam. He's just to cowardly to tell you. He just luurves me. Don't fight it Foots, ya know ya do.
How do you know that Atkins fucked you over? I thought he wasn't telling anyone till after midnight. I just assumed he would take my stuff. I would if I was him. If he wants to keep walking that is.
You're in the book, Sweetie-pie! Well done you!

I'm very sadly not. Now I have to go and tell my friend who was all excited for me to be in it.

From the dizzy heights of Tuesday pub quiz glory to the dank despair of Thursday blog rejection.

I would have been mad if you weren't in it and you are, so it's all right really. Although that does leave me unable to say "Pah, these Philistines have no taste!"

And I have a cold.

But I am going out with some pals for dinner tonight and I will surely raise a glass to you.

Well done, old chum!
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