Going on in the background

Interesting the things that go on in the background of our lives, behind the blog facade. This last week (exactly a week ago to the minute), my world has sucked in the background because I've had to extend myself to mankind a bit. Truly taxing. Partnering with Editor Shawn, we figured we'd share it with you in hopes to brighten your week now that it's at it's end, and hope to give you a little 'grass is greener perspective' to start your weekend.

The only way to truly describe this story correctly would be to do it in a "He said; She said" arena. Something new to the Meltdown but essential since my Editor has been on my ass to know what my rendition of 'Hell Night' would be like in contrast to his.

That and I guess this is a good time to shed light on another persons sorrow in hopes it brings you comedy and well, prevention.

NEVER DATE A PSYCHO, and if your girlfriends tell you the bitch is psychotic... It's because we smell our own... k?

That being said, not only do we now pass over into the boundaries of one persons personal idiotic but tragic story, but we hope a lesson will be learned from this story as well. So here goes:

SHAWNS RECOUNT

Thursday afternoon after work my girlfriend called and asked if I wanted to go out to dinner. I thought that wow, she'd never offered to buy dinner before, why not?
And I said yes of course.
Are you kidding? A woman buy me dinner? How the hell do you say no to that?

You don't! So she picked me up at work, drove me home to change into something 'really nice and appropriate', blah blah blah and we hit the road.

After an hour of driving south and no clue where we were going she had mentioned that she had a special restaurant she'd been dying to share with me so cool, why not? Only soon the drive had turned into two hours and we were getting close to hitting the state line, so I ask her:

"Where is this restaurant again? We've been driving for two hours now and I'm getting hungry."

She says "There's food in the back."
I think this is strange since apparently we were driving to dinner, and had been for TWO HOURS.

"Food in the back? How far are we driving?"
"To Nevada"
"Nevada? Holy fuck, Why?"
"To get married."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"
"No, why?"

She looked at me, I looked back at her and could tell that really she wasn't kidding at all. Fuck that I'm not getting married!!!

"You're not serious. You can't be"
"I am Shawn, you love me and I love you and we're meant to be together forever and you know this... You're just afraid to admit it because you will think I'd be in control in the relationship once you come clean about it."

I started to sweat because I don't know if any of you bloggers know this, but everyone thought my girlfriend was psycho but me apparently, and well this was my one glint of realization that perhaps they might be right after all.

"This is not about control" I said "This is about you forcing me to do something against my will, I don't love you... I think you're cool, but not certainly not wife material!!!"
"You like it when I force you, so we're getting married and that's just the way it is Shawn."

She locked the car doors and turned up the radio. I reached for the door lock on the sly and waited until she slowed down to merge onto the connecting freeway...

and I jumped out of the car.


EMMA's RECOUNT

It was 9-something or other, and I had just gotten ready to post an HNT and go to bed when my cell phone rang. I saw on my caller ID that it was a number I didn't recognize (in a distant area code), so I pick up immediately:

"Hello?"
"It's Shawn."
"Oh hey, what's up?"
"I need a ride home, can you pick me up?"
"Sure dude, you sound drunk... Jesus where the hell are you, Mexico? The area code is wayyy south."
"Oh, it's the painkillers prolly, I'm at the *insert small peanut town 100 miles south of current location* Hospital... In the ER, I can't afford a cab home."

I sat in silence for the moment, trying to let it all sink in. "You're at the hospital? In *small town*?!?! How in the flying fig did you get there and what the fuck... are you okay?"

"I'll tell you more when you get here."

If any of you remember correctly, last Thursday there was a weird HNT post from me with no picture... THIS IS THE REASON!!! I quickly (thought) I hit the 'Save as Draft' button threw on my clothes and hit the road... Southbound... for an hour and a half.

When I pulled up to the hospital there was dear old Shawn propped up outside with a HUGE balloon-like cast on his leg and his head was bandaged in gauze... He looked like a Q-tip. He hobbled sorely with crutches to the passenger side and strained to open the door, I hopped out to assist him. Fucker was in poor shape if any at all.

Conversation in the car ensued. I find out that he not only jumped out of the moving car for fear of marriage, but he jumped out of a moving car at 52 mph... hit a barrier, and launched into a rolling hurdle into the ditch below only to rest on a berm (unconcious most likely) until he awoke to call 911 on his cell.

"So what's the damage bud?" I was concerned for him, he looked shook.
"Fractured leg, cracked rib, bruised fucking ego..." He pulls out his hospital check out papers, "Head laceration, black eye... you know... the usual."

"Hey dude, why didn't your girlfriend call 911 after you ditched out of the car?"
"I don't think she stuck around actually, I didn't see her when I woke up."
"What?! Don't tell me you jumped and she didn't pull over or stop or anything!!!"
"Em, I think that's exactly what I'm telling you."

Judging by the expression on his face, I could see that he was a little more than bruised on just the outside... I felt for him. Dude hadn't had a girl in years and here he was all happy and getting laid and... She was psycho.

So I grabbed for justification... "Maybe she did pull over and couldn't find your body?"
And then I felt like shit, because any body that's supposed to care about you would look for you in the bushes IN the dark after you bailed out of a fast moving car!!!!

"I just want to go to sleep and forget the bitch." He whimpered. That was my cue to drop the subject and just drive... Just drive.

I got him safely home and looped back to my warm bed. I saw Shawn after that a couple of times to take him dinner or any creature comforts he may have needed...

But never noticed the bulge.... Until Saturday.

HERE'S WHERE THE STORY GETS NEAT.
Saturday night while playing cards I noticed an immense bulge in Shawns pants that clearly wasn't there before and frankly it looked un-natural. So I implied that he was working the penis pump, in turn he pulls out an ice pack gingerly and says "No, no penis pump... just a large slice in the head of my dick."

"Slice in the head of your dick? When the FUCK did this happen?"
"The other night when I bailed my cock piercing caught on the fly of my jeans and ripped clean out."

Alright so my pussy screamed and hid in my asshole when he said that, but I kept my cool "Jesus dude, what the fuck that's gotta hurt like hell... Is your dick going to survive or what?"

"No it's pretty fucked actually, since the piercing ripped out sideways and all.... I keep ice packs on it for the pain, but this topical shit they gave me at the ER isn't helping." Shawn then proceeds to pull down his pants and expose his dick to myself and the other 20 or so party-goers like it's a prize he won for growing the biggest pumpkin at the state fair.

It looks swollen, purple, and inflamed (and not in a good way either). "Honestly guys tell me if this looks right, come closer.
To which one of my friends chuckled "Okay Shawn, but don't fart."

So we did... and there it was... on the head of his penis where there used to be a nice clear concise piercing is now a giant laceration that has literally split the head of his dick wide open. Yes, flap and all... when everything was 'put' together it almost looked like his dick was, in fact, smiling.

Everyone agreed that it was not quite right.
I find out later on in the evening after many drinks that he hadn't heard from psycho girlfriend and didn't think he was going to... and as far as he cared she could be in Nevada marrying her hand.
I am repulsed that he hadn't heard, but expected as much since the chick had been trouble from the beginning.

SHAWNS RECOUNT

I couldn't piss. I couldn't touch my dick. I couldn't wear pants. There wasn't enough ice in the world to ease the pain. Forget my leg and rib... My poor dick.

Fuck that bitch. If she ruined my dick she's dead. That's pretty much all I could think the last week. My prescription pain killers started to mature in kind and strength - from Vicodin to Darvocet and no matter how I tried to pop a morning wood it was a lost cause.

Thank you Starfucker for the $300 back, the dinners you brought by, and the support for my dick. Whatever support you could offer that is, nice to know you aren't involved in the gags around the office.

I saw my doctor today and found out that I will have surgery on my penis. Reconstructive surgery like some sort of Rhinoplasty bullshit. The chances of me ever using my dick again for good reason is fucked up since I will have long term nerve damage.

Why did I want to share this story? Because I thought that maybe I could get across to the men that read this blog that if a woman wants to take you to dinner, wear your stunt padding. And watch your dick!!! Even if she doesn't touch it, she'll find a way to ruin it.

My surgery is next week. For now I will cradle the one thing I had left in my life that I was proud of always being there for me. My dick.

EMMAS RECOUNT

Shawn called me upset today. I wanted to kick myself for not insisting he go back and get stitches in that thing sooner. How do you console a guy that's lost his penis? Even worse, a guy that's struggling with an aching unusable penis?
Tragedy.

I kept joking that they could put a balloon and a pump in his package or that Viagra would be key... Reaching to help with comedy, and it works for a minute or two...But then its just back to the 'what if's', and the fact his mother is pissed at him for having a cock piercing in the first place.

Can you imagine being thirty, living with your mother, and having an unusable dick and a fractured leg? I think that's the definition of Hell, isn't it?

I will be there for him through surgery and after when he can't care for himself, just like I have been now.

Sometimes, we have shitty days or weeks, or hours... And we realize that we take things for granted and or don't understand fully the picture we've entangled ourselves in before it's too late. We tend to hamper on the petty things... and dwell on stuff we cannot even begin to change.

I had one of those days today, as many others have... And in fact it started exactly a week ago that Shawns world fell apart (and well mine since I'm picking up his slack at work AND doing all his weird 'favors'). Today I actually started to mope about the chain of events that made small things suck as much as big things.

SHAWNS LAST WORD

Could be worse people. Could be your dick. Psycho bitches must die.