Thursday, August 17, 2006

Living the Pirate Dream: The True Story

At nineteen years of age, I had lived out the dream of many young children and porn stars. I was a pirate that then converted to getting cum shots in the eye.

For real.

Okay, not quite.

Before you all get excited at the thought of pirate porn and go skimming through this post to get to the good part (seriously, I was totally kidding about the pirate porn) I’d like to start off by writing that my feet, my precious, pretty feet, are extremely sensitive and I will act out in a violent rage if you try to touch them. With this being said, let’s move on to Living the Pirate Dream: The True Story.

One evening, back when I was 19 years old, I was hanging out in Fucktard’s (aka Jason #2) room. He was a cruel man with cruel intentions for that evening. Being well aware of my Do Not Touch My Feet or Die Rule, he decided that it was all a bluff and felt the need to test out this rule. He attacked. Like a lion to its prey.

I immediately panicked and started screaming bloody murder. You would think that he would have stopped after I started to throw punches to his head and proceeded to aim for his balls, but no, he had a goal and that was to torture me.

Finally, after about 10 minutes of this, I managed to kick my feet away from his grubby hands and I wrapped my right arm around his neck (also referred to as The Super Choke-Hold) and used my left hand to grab his arms to hold them back.

This backfired on me.

As he was trying to escape my death grip, he swung his left hand around hoping to pull my right arm away from his neck. This resulted in him missing my arm and landing his finger in my eye.

Instantly I pulled away, started screaming profanities and whimpered, a lot.

The pain I felt was not the typical, “Ouch. I just accidentally poked my finger in my eye. Oh wait… okay, it feels better now.” Rather, this pain was much sharper and did not subside.

After the eye stabbing happened, I tried for hours to open my eye. It watered constantly and the pain had become unbearable.

I was unable to sleep that night and still my eye refused to open. The pain, my God, the pain. Instead of falling asleep, I was up all night crying because I could not imagine what the hell was wrong and why it hurt so much to the point that I wanted to rip my eye out.

Because I couldn’t sleep, I was able the see a doctor early in the morning. By this point, my left eye (the victim) was swollen shut. The doctor’s office was about a 15 minute walk from my house but because I couldn’t see out of one eye and horribly enough it started to affect my good eye (my good eye had begun to swell slightly and I was only able to open that eye a minimal amount) it took me 30 minutes to get to there. What I should have done is gotten a ride to the doctor’s office. Thankfully for me, I was not hit by any vehicles especially considering I was walking around blindly.

As I sat in the doctor’s office, with one hand clutching my left eye and the other eye barely open, I hoped that I would not be deemed blind; otherwise, Fucktard was going to be fucked.

The doctor finally came and he had to pry my left eye open. He took one look at it and said that I needed to see a specialist, immediately. The doctor phoned my dad and my dad was on his way to pick me up.

When I got to the eye specialist’s office, they had all been prepared to take me in right away. The eye doctor was a very nice gentleman and asked me a lot of questions regarding what happened. I was a little uneasy to tell him the story because seriously, “Yeah. My boyfriend stabbed me in the eye with his finger and apparently he doesn’t know how to cut his fingernails, or something.” After I told the eye doctor a not-so-detailed version of what happened, he was very sympathetic and abruptly told me to never let my boyfriend live this one down. I agreed.

Because my eye was swollen shut, the eye doctor forced it open and put in these magical, eye numbing drops. In a second, I was able to open my eye and everything was wonderful. Until he examined my eye and told me what was wrong.

Doctor: Oh… It seems that when your boyfriend poked your eye, his fingernail must have ripped your cornea.
Doctor: In fact, every time you blink, there is a piece of your cornea that is still left intact and it is flapping up and down.
Me: *trying not to cry hysterically*
Doctor: What happens, when the cornea is damaged, it causes the eye to swell to the point that it is unable to open; basically, what happened to you.
Me: *trying to push aside the thought of ripping Fucktard’s cornea out of his eye*

In order to allow the eye to heal, I was given an eye patch that was plastered to my face with medical tape. (Side Note: I’m allergic to medical tape. After the patch came off, I was left with a temporary scar on my forehead and the side of my face) The eye patch was to remain on for a week and at which point I was to return to the eye doctor’s office to have the eye re-examined.

Having the eye patch was incredibly embarrassing. Every where I went, I got strange looks from people. It was also difficult to do regular things because my vision was completely thrown off.

When I saw Fucktard that night, his mom freaked out at him. She took one look at me and was concerned.

The mom: Oh my God!! What happened??
Me: *re-tells the story*
The mom: *look of shock and disgust*

A few days later, I decided to get drunk. This was a very, VERY bad idea.

In the drunken stupor, we (friends, etc.) figured that it’d be cool to draw an eye on the eye patch. Now, picture this for a second: Eye patch. Drunken idiots. Black, yellow and red felt markers.

The outcome of this was a round eyeball, coloured in yellow, with red veins. It was the freakiest thing ever.

When I got home, my sister took one look at me and ran away screaming. She couldn’t look at me for days. I’m not even going to get into the reaction of my parents, strangers and the eye doctor.

After a week, the eye doctor took off the pirate patch, examined my eye and told me that it had fully healed.



During this process, my eye had dried out.

He wrote down the name of a cream, that I could purchase, that would help with this problem.

Firstly, this cream, for a tiny tube, was fucking expensive. Me = NOT impressed. Secondly, this cream (please note: cream; not eye drop) was to be put in my eye every hour that I was awake. This routine was to be kept for two months. At that point I would have to go in for another check-up with the eye doctor and I continued this routine for a year.

Every time I went to put the cream in my eye, I had to wait a minute before wiping the excess cream away. Because I had to do this every hour, every day, for nearly a year, it became known as AJ Going for the Cum Shot. Because in all honesty, that’s what it looked like.

Years later, my eye is still doing fine. There are days, however, when I would still get a sudden pang of pain in that eye, but I’m going to assume that it’s normal.

The moral of this story: If you want to live out the dream of a pirate turned porn star, just touch the feet of someone who has specifically told you not to.

What the hell, that wasn’t even a moral, but it sure is useful information to give out on career day at school.



Blogger Alex said...

Wow, that is grisly. Makes my eye troubles seem like nothing. I like how your story all made sense at the end; seriously. I got it. And I learned my lesson too about leaving people's feet alone for fear of a ripped cornea!

1:17 p.m.  
Blogger AJ said...

Alex, any eye trouble is grisly, no matter how minor it may be (even your story made my skin crawl). Any time someone tries to go for my feet, I tell them the story of what happened to me and they immediately leave the feet alone; probably because they don't want the possibility of me harassing them for the rest of their life because they turned me into a pirate.

9:50 a.m.  

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