I went to the hospital yesterday. I'm having the snip in August, so I went to see the consultant for a chat about the procedure. He referred to it as a counselling session. He went through all the usual questions.... "Sooo.... Convoy? Do you know anything about the procedure?" "I've read up a bit about it." "Would you like a general anaesthetic?" "No thanks, just the local" He made a couple of notes then warned me of some of the risks. I'm no daft c-unt and fully intend to milk the biff chit on this one like billy-o. Unlike my mate, who had it done under local, then went straight back to work.... ON HIS FCUKING BIKE. It was only when the local wore off that he realised that he'd been sat on one of his own spuds for the entire ride. His knacker looked like it had a fight with Ken Shamrock. After a couple more questions he said, "Do you mind if I bring a couple of first year med students in?" I thought about it for a sec. Manchester is full of the w-ankers. Rag mag selling, wacky antic performing ponces most of 'em, but I thought, we've all got to learn and it's only a counselling session, so I said, "Fine" He disappeared then came back in with two, ridiculously good looking girls, both looking a bit nervous and smiley. I smiled at them and he continued the session with them looking in. "Right Convoy, what do you work as?" "A Radio Engineer" "Does that involve much manual activity" "A bit" "Well you'll have to take it easy for about a week." "Fine" He then turned to the girls and said, "Would either of you like to ask Mr Co-ck a question" The prettier of the two, thought for a second and said "How old is your youngest child" "Ermmm... 14 months" She nodded as if i'd imparted some crucial information, but I was well aware of her simple blag, having spent years pretending i'm interested in things. The consultant, incidentally called Mr Payne then hit me with it. "Right Convoy, could you just let us have a quick look at your undercarriage?" Oh for fcuks sake!!!!!!! It wasn't that I minded getting my knob out in front of two women. In fact, with a bit of cheesy synth pop playing in the background it could have been a classic start to something starring Ron Jeremy. No, the cu-nt had took me completely by surprise, rendering it impossible to get a bit of blood into the old fella. My willy was on full-shrivel and when I dropped my kecks and looked down there was a mini white-chocolate walnut whip sticking out of my bush. I had to do a double take. I thought 'fcuk me, you little bas-tard. Of all the times to go hiding' Not only that, but there was a faint reek of Berocca strength lag floating around the room as well. I didn't dare look at the two girls, but you didn't need to be a telepathist to know that they were going to be pi-ssing their sides laughing as soon as I was out of earshot. It didn't seem appropriate to turn to them and say "I know it looks little, but i've got 6 and a half inches on lob. Honest" I wish I had now. They must have been thinking "How the fcuk can he stuff that thing into a fa-nny, let alone get someone pregnant five times. He doesn't need a fcuking vasectomy. He's wasting NHS time, the skiving rod" All this time, Mr Payne is poking my spuds, whilst talking about vas deferens etc. When he'd finished, I pulled my y-fronts up so aggresively, one of my teds was left dangling outside like a stranded climber. I'm thinking about complaining. I've just checked my appointment letter. It just says to bring a sample. At no point does it state "Please be aware, that the doctor will be feeling your widgy and balls whilst two dolly birds have a good laugh at you. You may want to have half a wa-nk before you come in, just to make it look decent. You may also want to coax your tezzies out as well, by dangling them in some hot water for a while. This will allow you to bring your meat and two veg up to CO's inspection standards." Have any other arrsers suffered similar levels of humiliation?