Dear Beans,
Monday seemed like a regular day. I had woken up, gone to work, come home and eaten a hearty meal of mince, mince and mince. It was a good day.
It was a good day apart from the weather. It was freezing. I couldn’t feel my hands and feet, I clearly needed to do something to warm my flat up. But what can a regular Joe do in these awful times? Modern life is so expensive and there was no way I was turning the heating on for anything less than a blizzard. We were still several hundred flakes away a blizzard.
I therefore turned to my old friend, the hot water bottle. It has saved me from the cold on so many occasions and after a period of ten years was still going strong. I boiled the kettle and filled it up, and got comfy on the sofa with it positioned on my lap. I could feel the heat and it was so nice. I warmed my hands up on it then moved it to my back when it got a bit too much for my stomach. That’s the best thing to do with a hot water bottle, give it five minutes somewhere and then move it on. You have a whole body to warm up and there’s only so much one little HWB can do. Perhaps someone should invent a device that moves it round for you so you don’t have to?
I was sat in front of the TV watching a film with the HWB on my lap again when I noticed something was amiss. A searing kind of shock suddenly sprung forth between my legs. I’ve never set my testicles on fire however I would imagine the uncomfortable feeling I felt that day was very much akin to that. I pulled the hot water bottle from my lap to stop whatever was happening. Then heat turned to wetness, I could feel a wet sensation which confused the hell out of me. “What on earth is going on?” asked my prehistoric brain still trying to catch up with everything.
It was then after some close examination that I saw it; a little cut at the neck of the hot water bottle. Something (or someone) had cut a little slither meaning that any pressure applied to the bottom would force the water to come spurting out. I had accidentally burned myself with my own salvation during this chilly evening. Oh the shame I felt. Oh the humanity of it all! Who could have done such a thing to me, of all people?
My question therefore is what is the most embarrassing thing you have ever done to yourself either on your own or in public? I await your responses.
Yours painfully
Socket Mephistopheles
8 comments on “Dear Beans… hot groin action”
Do I take it from this that you’re spending a lot of your time with the heating off and a hot water bottle stashed in your jeans? Do you take one out and about with you? I feel like this is the new double socks thing.
Yes, I tend to leave the heating off and, yes, I’ve been hiding under a blanket with a hot water bot for most of winter. This is not the new double socks thing. It’s never coming back.
It sounds awful. I prefer to keep the heating on full blast. Then fill a hot water bottle with ice cubes and stuff that down my trousers to help me cool off a bit in the stifling heat.
You’re so lavish and affluent yet also disgusting. Are you a John Lewis catalogue with a copy of The Sun hidden between the pages?
Exactly that. I am very much the John Lewis catalogue with a copy of the Sun hidden inside of the human race. It’s all my father ever wanted for me.
Does he call you “son” when you’re home or talking on the phone but REALLY he’s saying the word “sun” because you’re a dirty newspaper and its a hidden code that only you two know about?
Also stop pretending your middle name isn’t John Lewis.
You’ve cracked this case wide open, which is also something you can do with me because I’m a paper catalogue with a newspaper inside, and just like cracking me wide open you’ve revealed all the sordid details that were hidden inside.
Filth.
#Filth