Zip up your mickey

February 20, 2007 at 1:13 am | Posted in embarrassing moments | 21 Comments

Right, back to basics. There’s been far too much blogging about blogging going on around here. This week I’m back on the straight and narrow. Sort of.

To rekindle the spirit of this blog, i.e. holding myself up to public ridicule by recounting my uneventful life, I’ve decided to post some of my more memorable embarrassing moments. One a day, for a week, or for as long as I’ve got fodder to fuel the theme.

Incidentally (incidental to nothing in particular), I know it’s not big or clever to make sex jokes about children’s stories, but I saw a picture today in Erin’s Little Mermaid book where Ariel is rescuing yer man from drowning, and it’s just begging for a suggestive comment about a strap-on:

Ariel the Mermaid gettin it on

Observe the face full of dirty satisfaction on her. The poor lad, he’ll wake up wishing he’d drowned.

Now that you’re feeling appropriately awkward, I feel more comfortable telling this story.

In my younger days, I was a sucker. Trick it up any way you want, say I was trusting, generous, good-natured, whatever; the bottom line is, I let myself be taken advantage of all the time. No, not sexually. Don’t be so disgusting.

Case in point: my friend Johnny used to have a paper round, delivering the Galway Advertiser around Woodquay and the bottom of Bohermore. He used to get £9.75 for delivering 200 papers. We split the delivery 50/50. Guess how much he paid me for my 50% contribution? A pound.

Yes, a feckin pound. See, that’s the kind of lad I was. Don’t blame Johnny, he was just being entrepreneurial. I, on the other hand, was practicing hard at being a damn pushover.

You know what teenagers are like. Uncomfortable erections abound, appearing during the unlikeliest events, not necessarily predicated on anything sexual. At mass, for example. Or at the end of a swimming lesson when the instructor is telling everyone to get out of the pool and you’re the only one left and he’s shouting at you to get out but there’s no way you can just yet.

One Thursday (it was definitely a Thursday because that’s when the Advertiser comes out), I was out helping Johnny, delivering in an area called Hidden Valley, a place the old-timers used to call Sickeen. Hidden Valley’s a very steep hill, well-known by learner drivers as a bastard of a place to have to do a hill start. (Note to Americans: Hill starts can be tricky when you drive a car with manual transmission. The old clutch/accelerator combo.)

That day, I walked Hidden Valley from top to bottom with an erection poking out of my trousers.

Yes, out of my trousers. Not just out of my boxers. It was a triple whammy. Not only did I get an awkward and uncomfortable walking erection, my lad then somehow escaped the confines of my underwear, and to add insult to self-inflicted injury, the gods conspired to undo my zip at the same time. End result was John Thomas out on show for a good three minutes or so.

Your questions answered (I’m preempting you here):

Kav, how the fuck did you not notice your dick was sticking out for so long?

Well, it was a warm day – so mild that the temperature differential between my crotch and the outside air was negligible. It was also flat calm – nary a breeze stirred to caress my massive specimen. I had no warning signals. The first I knew of it was when I looked down and saw the head of my lad winking away at me.

So what did you do once you noticed?

There was this girl who’d been looking at me from her bedroom window as I walked down the hill. She was wearing this sheer babydoll lingerie, and as I looked up, she beckoned, moving her finger in a come-hither gesture. I called to her house and from out of nowhere, this funky guitar music started playing, the waw-waw in full effect. She guided me into the house, not by the hand if you know what I mean, nudge nudge, yahyah ya know what I mean like, and she immediately dropped to her knees –

Okay, okay. It would’ve been pretty cool if that did happen though. What really happened was, I stuffed JT back into his cotton prison, and walked back to meet Johnny like John Wayne with a dose of the scuts.

Okay, the girl was not real, but surely somebody must’ve seen it? It happened in broad daylight during rush-hour, for God’s sake!

As far as I know, nobody was lucky enough to feast their eyes on him. Some workmen in a Transit van drove past around the time I noticed, but they gave no indication they’d seen anything. And stop calling me Shirley.

How psychologically damaged were you by the incident?

Pretty badly at the time. I was not a confident teenager, so an episode like that worked like semtex on my ego. I can laugh and blog about it now though, so that’s all that matters.

Be honest now: is this a true story?

This one is 100% true.



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  1. Much as this story begs every fibre of my being to take the mickey…erm, under the circumstances that’s wholly the wrong metaphor…um, pull the piss?… no, that won’t work either. Anyway I really want to make light (t’s’OK, innit?) of your situation there but, picturing the young Kav walking along, quite the thing, with his willy rampant and not unlike a Dalek’s shooter bit, is oddly endearing. I find myself going “Aw, bless! and it bringing out the problemmammy in me. It makes me want to send you some Sanatogen and ask if you’re wearing clean underwear. With your history, Kav, I think this last is especially important for you to remember.

    “Come to Hidden Valley: where things aren’t!” The council could market it to the the Mrs. Robinson set as a rich hunting ground for paper-boys.

    Maybe it’s just the topic of the post but Ariel’s fringe looks like a willy in mid-circumcision like the doctor had been called away in the middle of it and left bits flapping. Sheeshbleurgh!

  2. Great to see back in good form, blog world hasn’t been the same without you. I couldn’t even attempt to start telling all my humiliating stories have a few years worth at least. Impressed you will be done in a week.

  3. kav, you’ve been knudsen-ed. (unless your sidebar is meant to be down there.)
    i am repeating negligible temperature differential to keep my mind off your massive specimen.

  4. My Mammy would call you a filthy article, but I still love you.

  5. Oh dear, the guys in the Transit didn’t notice, eh? That small. Well I s’pose the lad was still a lad back then, and unfamiliar with hidden valleys.

  6. Dear God. If that actually happened, it would be almost as embarassing as something that happened me when I was a young lad – 15.

    Enraged by some bastards who had stolen our bonfire fuel, we decided to get revenge. I bought petrol, and two nights before Hallowe’en set up a ring of petrol around the bonfire, and a wee bit coming out of it. Of course, I too was covered in petrol. Then JC struck a match too close to me, and my trousers lit up. Thankfully I rolled it out, but that was a close one.

    Perhaps not as bad as having an erection poking out of my trousers though.

  7. Oh, God, Kav. That’s dreadful.

    And this American drives a stick shift (keep yer mind out of the gutter), so I know all about tricky hill starts.

  8. Wasn’t The Little Mermaid the one where some versions of the videotape had the likeness of a penis on the cover? It’s the highest tower in the middle of the castle in the background. Ah, the innocence….

  9. Very awkward. One of those things that you think about every now and again and cringe in embarrassment even though it was years ago.
    I once had to have a poo in the sea at Teignmouth and must have got a bit caught in my trunks when I pulled em up. When I walked back on to the beach there were brown streaks of shit running down my legs. Loads of girls about an’ all.
    I’m going red just thinking about it….

  10. Strap-on what Kav? Fucking legs maybe?

    Back when I was a flightie (incidentally this was also back when I was a man) I worked on one type of plane where there cabin door was right at the front.My seat was right at the very back so as we’d taxi in to the gate I’d tell the passengers to stay in their seats until I got to the front to open the door and let them out.
    One day I was afflicted with a bad dose of “diesel dick” from engine vibration and I had to wait for a bit of subsidence to take place.Nothing doing and time was passing and the ground crew were hammering on the door for me to open up.
    ‘Ok’ sez I..”If I whip up the aisle right quick I’ll get there before any turns around and lamps me”
    Off I speed anyway and I almost make it when a woman in an aisle seat leans out in my path and I give her a good auld poke in the shoulder.

    Blow on the inflation tube indeed.

  11. Ha Ha I made it and found yer comments, and now I find I have nothing to say, um according to ancient celtic legend weemen were all mermaids but the mother Goddess needed a posse so she gave them legs, thats where the word pussy cums from also the smell of fish, 100% true.

    People notice when Old Knudsen stands out in a crowd, I often let the lad out to air dry some of the scabs, I get gasps of delight from all.

  12. You must be scarred for life…hey, maybe thats whats wrong with you.

  13. Oh dear, oh dear. I think I’m going to install a full-length mirror just by the front door to avoid any similar incidents. Although if it happened to me, the girl in the babydroll pyjamas would have to have very good eyesight.

    Re the children’s book – there was an outake they showed on TV the other day where this fitness/aerobics instructor was in a class with about 100 schoolchildren.

    He unfortunately started the class by saying “OK, I want you to start by spreading your legs!”

  14. sam: Interesting you should mention underwear, in light of a post I’m working on. You’ll see.

    flirty: Well, I’m trying to pick the best ones out, but I’m struggling to think of even a week’s worth. Which is depressing.

    gaijin girl: Thanks for letting me know – I fixed it. And you’re lucky I left the word “throbbing” out of that sentence.

    sweary: and that’s all that matters.

    conan: Ah, well put. It was a long time after that before I got to know anything about those kinds of valleys.

    Dario: your friend set you on fire? Fucking hell…that’s a story worth recounting.

    sassy: My mind lives in the gutter. Stick shift, you say?

    Amanda: I’m going to check that as soon as I get home.

    Eddie: Yes! I too have got a poo story, coming up soon in the embarrassing moments extravaganza.

    Devin: Classic! As least it wasn’t her eye, you could’ve blinded her.

    Old Knudsen: Ah, good to have you back sir. Though the thought of your crusty beast is enough to make me retch.

    flutt: There’s worse to come. Heh, come.

    looby: God that’s awful. I said something like that before but it’s so disgusting as to be unrepeatable.

  15. As you get older, you forget the embarrasment brought about by spontaneous teenage stiffy. The fact that it could manifest itself in any circumstance only made it worse.

    I remember one time when I was in school, we were in religion class. The teacher decided that a good old rosary was in order, and plucked various people from the class to stand on the rostrum and recite a decade. One poor lad (not I, I hasten to add), was about three Hail Marys in when his little man decided to awaken from his slumber. He got terrible abuse for it later, but deep down, I think all of us were thinking “There but for the grace of God go I.”

  16. Classic, Gerry. I remember in secondary school someone passing a note that said “*lad’s name* has a BULGE!” The poor lad had to endure everyone’s sniggering for the rest of the class.

  17. Never mind your right honourable member. Ariel? I thought she was named Peg.

  18. That’s not embarrassing! Come on, you can do better than that. I mean, if someone had seen it, sure. But nobody noticed. I do not accept this post. I strongly veto this post.

    And I’ve driven my manual transmission car in San Francisco plenty of times, so you don’t have to explain hill starts to this American, either.

  19. Eolaí: Ariel is Hebrew for Peg, did you not know that?

    Cindy: Didn’t you see the losing my virginity post? Right, I’ve got one or two left to get through. See how they suit you.

  20. I can just imagine you wrestling the monster back into the confines of your panties. What a job!

  21. I was exhausted jali. The caged beast tends to fight back all the harder.

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