Bravest Man Alive

Alright.

I don’t know if this is an appropriate topic for the chnepr forum, but I heard a pretty amazing story last night.

I was at a little shindig at some NGO. PopNLock and KCQ were there and I hadn’t seen ’em in months. PopNLock proceeded to challenge me to another dance off, as apparently is customary in his weird, twisted coastal Kenyan culture. We tore it up. It was all over when I pulled a double knee drop. PopNLock will still say he’s the better dancer.

But I think we all know the real answer.

I ended up dancing with some girl, and when I left,  she followed me out. We chatted a little in the cool night.

“Eaah. Not really getting along with this one,” assessed the InMo.

I met a bunch of new people, saw a bunch of Old friends, like Zim the lawyer/de-miner who used to fly, “a mahogany bomber.” There was Slick, the oil salesman, Irish the Irish girl, Disgruntled the Guy whose stage I stole, Stitch the Aussie who sewed my shorts, Logical the logistician, Zulu the birthday girl, and a bunch of others. It was really quite nice seeing everyone back together and what what.

My ride left and I decided to solicit a ride home from KCQ. He and Logical was talking to someone new, BravestManAlive. When I joined in the conversation, I heard, “there must have been a lot of blood.” I’m a big fan of injury stories since I have a lot of them—injuries and stories. But this trumped about anything I had. BravestManAlive had just undergone a circumcision.

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, my I was in Zambia, and my ‘banjo string’ was torn in an act of love.”

“Your banjo string?”

“Yeah, you know, ‘the turtleneck.'”

“Good god,” I managed to mutter.

“What were you fucking?” bursted out Logical.

“A bucket of gravel?” posited the InMo.

“It was her hand,” stated BravestManAlive calmly and succinctly.

“That must be the worst hand job ever in the history of the world,” indignanted KCQ.

“Yeah. The aftermath of the surgery was pretty bad too.”

“I can only imagine,” I stammered, trying to find appropriate words.

“Anesthesia?” posited KCQ.

“Yeah,” BravestManAlive shrugged, “General.”

“That’s a relief,” sighed Logical.

“Well,” stalled BravestManAlive, “If you’re gonna be unconscious with someone cutting at your pecker, there are better places to be than Zambia.”

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