So I had a guy face down, moaning, on all fours in the stretcher the other day.
He’d been languishing on a business trip with a sore tush and a long airplane ride. He stepped off the plane, drove to the hospital, and lay there prone in my ER, waitin’ for his doctor. After an awkard introduction, we got down to business, and I found a juicy lump o’ pus sittin’ on his taint. We got him set up for a little slice and dice. Certainly, an 11 blade scalpel in your taint can’t feel good, but my guy was a trooper. He bit the pillow and muffled his sobbing–enough for me to do some thinking. I had a sudden Eureka moment as I was milking his abscess.
“Taint. Taint. Tainted. Tainted Love . . . TAINTED LOVE!”
Could be a great sticker. Seriously. Ser-i-ous-ly. Working out the design. Stay tuned.