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My Brother's Ass Goiter
7/18/05
by DJ

WARNING: The entire DH staff that is not DJ was so disgusted by this column we almost didn't post it. Consider yourself warned. If the phrase ass goiter alone makes you shiver, then please do yourself a favor and come back tomorrow.

My brother David, who was my best man at my wedding, is quite possbly one of the most complex, yet at the same time most accessible persons I have ever known. For example, he can make friends with the weirdest people on earth but occasionally he busts out the Robot dance. He delivered on this accessible complexity by giving the most eloquent toast in the history of best man speeches, save "Old School." His speech was so cogent, so heart-rending, so deep, and so profound that I nearly found myself in tears. He told a story of our childhood, when I saved him from drowning in a brash act of bravery that would make Rin Tin Tin colic with jealousy. This got me thinking, of another time when I saved his life, when we were in college, wreaking havoc Harrison style on the pristine, untainted campus and coeds of the University of Colorado at Boulder. (Please reread warning at this point. And consider that we do not warn lightly.)

On August 15, 2001 David's 19th birthday, I was set to take him out and show him a good time. (Stop reading here if you are at all squeamish).

At about 10:15 PM MST, there was a light rap on my door. The aforementioned seven-foot Harrison, with a pained look in his eye, says, "DJ, i need to show you something."

Thinking it was probably a bad grade or something I responded in the the affirmative, but was quite perplexed when he led me to the bathroom. With this auspicious beginning, I knew something was horribly amiss, and with much trepidation I reluctantly followed. With his face beet red, much to my surprise, he dropped his pants. (I was shocked to see that not much had changed since our childhood days, but i digress...) He said, "What the F*** is this on my ass?" Looking at it, I froze in terror, like I was posing for Edvard Munch's "The Scream" painting. Amidst the copius amounts of ass hair inhabiting there, was a large bump on his left buttock, about 4 inches to the left of his "mason-dixie line". He poked it and said it hurt. (Might I add that I later on learned that it might have gotten so infected because he was POKING IT WITH A SAFETY PIN). It was as red as Rudolph's nose, and approximately the same size. For clarity's sake, it was nearly the same size as the face of a men's watch and about 1/4" raised, and it was pulsating and marbled with hot, festering dropsy. Truly horrifying to say the least; scarier than 100 "Silence of the Lambs" viewings combined. Anyways back to the ass goiter....Having seen ER, I used all the medical knowledge I had gleaned to that point. I poked it. I noticed an ingrown hair and got some tweezers and pulled it out, and the tiniest trickle of pus followed it. I attemped to squeeze it, as David screamed obscenities against the blinding pain. And (brace yourself) a spray, like the one the ocean makes as it hits a coral reef, sprayed all over the front of one of my shirts. It is now in the Boulder Valley garbage dump...burned. The pus and blood medley was clearish so I knew in the deeps of that corinth on his ass there was something more, something menacing. He looked back, eyes bloodshot as if to say "Are we there yet?" My fulsome visage snapped back as if to say, "Fasten your seat belt." I muttered "Hold on" as he white-knuckeled the towel rack. As i gave it the ol' two thumb pressure squeeze and (again, brace yourself) there was a barely audible pop, like hearing a gunshot a mile away. Out sprang two kernels of white matter unbeknownst to me, writhing like two aborted tadpoles. One landed on the mirror, while his twin found a place on the sink. I dry wretched (as you probably are now). They were both the size of the power button on a remote control. The one on the mirror made a mad dash for the floor, slowly sliding down the mirror, while his brother just lay there on the sink, seemingly writhing like a newborn snake. I swore I heard them make the Alien hiss noise during their trajectory from their previous estate to their new residences.

They left behind a hole on his ass, so i put neosporin and a bandaid on it. I looked at my younger brother. He was sweating bullets, obviously relieved of the pressure of the fissure on his ass. He cleaned the two titans off the sink and mirror. I said "Let us never speak of this again." (which commandment I am now breaking) and "You owe me." It was disgusting. We then went out and resumed our birthday celebration visiting various locales in the Boulder area. Fortunately this did not put a damper on our night; there is nothing shots of Jim Beam won't cure. To my readers, I apologize for this graphic story. Feel lucky there were no pictures taken to document the night. To my brother.... I love you man!! Thanks for being there for me. For any and all sibling stories, post them on our message board or email them to us at deadlyhippos@gmail.com.....

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