Dying with a hard-on!
In over 160,000 cities, 160,000 thousand people flipped a switch, and red-lights soon dominated several thousand square street blocks. In fog-drenched alleyways red-lights flashed. One man, and then thousands more, marched as hidden as the night would allow to where the streets were bleeding red. In the high desert a tumble-weed rolled on and was forced to stop by some tall green grass. There, the sun was bright and a funeral was underway, the sun glistened off the people’s wet faces. Clear across town, at this hospital, a new-born screamed ---with ten toes and ten fingers …
At Saint Mercy General Hospital, on the edge of a city, when looking down you can see the red light district start to undulate and slowly engulf the horizon: The red mood, pushed with a strange north wind stroked ‘the grumpy old men section’, and a collective thought echoed: How valuable is a hard-on!
There was a lot of excitement, finally, and after a long extended period of time ---movement could be seen in their hospital gowns. It's not that labor intensive. But first, of course, the grumpy old men rolled their wheel-chairs into the cafeteria to conduct this discussion about erections or hard-ons face to face …
In ‘the grumpy old men section’ at Saint Mercy General, the conversation turned slightly philosophical ---concerning hard-ons.
Everything must be considered. “First on the agenda,” one of the men said, while adjusting his hospital gown, a ‘reference point’ is needed. He thought an agreeable definition of ‘value’ was needed to proceed. But this was quickly solved with, “the perfect fitting key,” the commenters first words, and then he said, “Whatever somebody will pay, barter, trade ---one good for another ---establishes …value,” spoken with his chest slightly puffed out until he coughed. But even with the man’s hand filled with mucus, it was a huge triumph. They were able to proceed onward. “Of course!” They all said.
The men hunkered down and pulled their wheelchairs in a tight circle. The discussion would move civilly, counter-clockwise, so that each man could tell his Value of a hard-on! The first man just said, “Prostate,” with a whimper, and encouraged the others to move forward without him. They all admired his bravery.
The next man stood-up and pulled the draw-strings off his hospital gown. He stood naked with a hard-on. The other men stood up, the ones who could, and applauded. No one could get within a foot of the naked man. His value of a hard-on was everything, “actually,” he said, “Everything! I lived off hard-on’s for decades. It was very lucrative. He looked down at his hard-on every other moment as he spoke, “I’ve had many hard-on’s, sometimes four or five a day.” And of course, he added, “I love a good hard-on! Don’t you?!”
The next man in the circle, traveling counter-clockwise, with his hard-on incrementally over-shadowed by the man to his right, asked the man, “Well …how many do you think you have left?”
“How many hard-ons do I left?”
“Yes …big guy ---hard-ons.”
Now, strangely humbly, while putting his hospital gown back on he said, “I just want one more!-I want a smoke. I thought my hard-on would be valuable enough to one of these horny nurses here to give me a smoke in bed.“
One of the men lamented about hard-ons and smoking in bed, “I’ve never had a smoke in bed.”
“Me either: I’m dying for a smoke too!” The big guy said, “I know how you look at me ---stop, even with thousands of hard-ons left ---you’re wrong.” The big guy had to collect himself, “Ya, you think, a foot away this guy could read some good literature while fornicating, but guys, even with thousands of hard-ons left, it doesn’t matter ---my hips are toast. Toast! I have to ice my hip at the thought of fornicating.”
“And ---with a hard-on like that,” could be heard as he pulled his wheelchair out of the circle. He pushed his wheelchair back to ‘the grumpy old men’ section, with movements at the moment, stifled, and quickly fell asleep. The others followed. Their conversations about hard-ons ended softly ---not with a bang, but maybe, with a lot of whimpers instead.
The big guy slept hard, but with his consistent movement, down there, ‘an early morning shift nurse' leaned against his doorway, and admired a hard-on.
Later:
back at the nurse’s station, she shared her vision with the other nurses: "If I could just slid on top of that thing it would solve a lot of problems for me ---that’s for sure!” Her friends giggled. “Don’t you just love a good hard-on?!?!”
Later: smoke billowed from the Big Guy’s hospital bed.
The End
