The World Series got me in front of a TV again, which is good, because I’d been falling behind in my pharmaceutical ad consumption. I can’t always tell what the pharmaceuticals do, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need them. I loved the one a few years back about the little blue pill you can take that sharpens up your athletic ability. Before the pill, the fellow couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn with a football, but afterwards, man, he was just poking that baby right through the center of a swinging tire, just drilling it, wham wham wham. Hell of a pill.
So they have to mention all the side effects, too, which is how we’ve all learned that four hours is about the limit for having an erection, after which you should see your doctor. I don’t think they mean eighteen-year-olds, who should see somebody else. The first hour of the erection is the one you’re interested in, the second and third hours are for display purposes only, and then you’re just sort of counting down the last hour with your doctor on speed dial. Of course, you’re not going to be able to just pop in on your doctor, so you’ll have to go to the emergency room. I’m thinking there is probably a way to make a grand entrance into the ER that will get you right at the head of the line and into a private room in front of the gunshot wounds and heart attacks.
They don’t say what the doctor is going to do about it. The problem, as I see it, is that there is too much blood in one place, and it needs to be encouraged to go somewhere it’s in short supply, such as the brain. The four-hour erection happens when the brain feels neglected and goes into a complete pout. “Don’t bother sending any of that blood back up here,” the brain sniffs. “I still have no idea what you were talking about with that betting system that’s guaranteed to beat the casino. As far as I’m concerned, you’re on your own, Big Boy, and God forbid you should read me a little Jane Austen once in a while.”
I personally do not have much of a grip on the concept of the four-hour erection. I got my windshield wipers stuck in the “up” position once, and it just turned out to be a matter of loosening the nuts. But I do remember a particularly obstreperous Jeep from my early days as a letter carrier that might shed some light on this condition. It was hell getting that Jeep to start. You had to pump it for a half hour. Once it finally got going, it had an idle set to about 8,000 RPMs, and you drove it standing on the brake. Darn thing wouldn’t shut off, either. You could turn it off, take the key out, walk away, and it would still be going when you came back five minutes later. What we figured out how to do was to cut the engine when it was still in drive, stomp on the gas, and then it would backfire like mad and shudder to a halt. It’s worth a shot for the four-hour erection, too. So that’s cut it, stomp on it and plug up your ears. I’m pretty confident about this suggestion because it’s not my penis.
There’s a lot of good free advice on those ads about when you should see your doctor. I generally keep my own counsel. I had some little totally unauthorized thing growing inside of me at one point that was supposed to be harmless, but which had begun to slouch against my bladder to the point that–under certain conditions–it sort of clamped down on my urine flow. I was on the horn about that to my doctor right away, and mentioned the problem, right after asking if Crestor, Spiriva, Prevacid, Levitra, Rituxan, Aredium, Actonel or Evista was right for me. She told me that it was probably all right as long as urine was still coming out, but if it shut off completely, I should get in to the hospital right away. No, really? Let me jot that down.
Oh, I needed a good laugh this morning. Thank you!
Yet another classic! I was really disappointed to learn that the little blue pill is make by Pfizer, and not the much more appropriate Johnson and Johnson.
HAR!
If the man I was with had a four-hour erection, ya think I would actually get dressed and drive it to a hospital for draining????
Murr, you are my Naughty Hero now.
I've been told that the proper way to deal with it actually is to withdraw blood from the inflamed area… Sounds painful.
Oh my. I just had a vision of someone in Red Cross, lying down…you can tell when the blood donor bag is full because the weight goes down and the rod goes up–but this way you could tell from across the room.
In this part of the country, I've noticed that when the little head is thinking the big head tends to go on vacation…pole vaulting his way around the emergency department for starters.
I want to know what words you googled in your search to get these pictures!
Might you be suggesting these were not in my personal liberry?
and by the way…what the heck ARE those things???
Leeches are good for relieving blood engorged areas. 😮
Shila
Anyone seen the True Blood episode where Sookie's brother has too much V? Season 1, about the middle.
Leeches. Hmm. Hmm. Should work.
@Elizabeth: Hoodoos.
Whatever happened to picturing old uncle Bob/grandma/open wounds/baseball? Does the pill make you immune to those stategies?
You know, since I moved to the US, I've been surprised by those medicine ads. They are great. "You might be depressed! "Take this!" "Warningmedicinemaycausejointpainyourtoestofalloffandprostatecancer.Contactyourdoctorimmediatelyifyoufeeltoosuicidalorattempttokillothers." Normally it seems like they're offering you at least 8 problems for the cure of 1.
Those are great pictures.
I think it was in Annie Hall. Woody Allen says he thinks about baseball when they're having sex. She says, "I was wondering why you keep saying, 'Slide! Slide!'"
Har har haring out loud (HHOL) here in Whipple. We seen some hoodoos like those in Montana. Somewhere there have got to be caves to fit them.
I'm afraid to show the Washington Monument shot to Bill, who loves to stage photos of himself picking the giant Tiki God's nose, etc. etc.
Great. Now all I can think about is hot dogs chasing donuts through the Lincoln Tunnel. (Wish I'd come up with it first, but we have Robert Klein to thank for image.)
A friend who was an ER nurse had a couple who were brought in stuck en coitus. A needle was used to deflate the guy.
Gosh. Couldn't you just use a hose?
Man, you hit a nerve (so to speak) with this one. Hilarious!
I've got two words: hi larious
Great. Now all I can think about is hot dogs chasing donuts through the Lincoln Tunnel. (Wish I'd come up with it first, but we have Robert Klein to thank for image.)
I think it was in Annie Hall. Woody Allen says he thinks about baseball when they're having sex. She says, "I was wondering why you keep saying, 'Slide! Slide!'"
Might you be suggesting these were not in my personal liberry?
Oh my. I just had a vision of someone in Red Cross, lying down…you can tell when the blood donor bag is full because the weight goes down and the rod goes up–but this way you could tell from across the room.
If the man I was with had a four-hour erection, ya think I would actually get dressed and drive it to a hospital for draining????
Murr, you are my Naughty Hero now.