Alright, let’s get right to it. You know the rumor we’ve heard since the playgrounds at catholic school— I call it the ‘Marilyn Manson.” “If you remove some ribs, you can… suck your own dick.” And like any determined dude looking to transcend reality’s limitations, I thought:’ Let’s do this!’ Well, after a questionable surgery, some dicey recovery time, and a heavy dose of regret, I’m here to say: it doesn’t work. At all. Not even fucking close dude.
Yes, I was committed — maybe a bit too much. You could call it a quest for self-reliance or maybe a misguided attempt at personal convenience. I mean, we live in an age where meal kits show up at your door and drones deliver snacks; why not try for a similar arrangement in sucking your own dick? So I found a “Dr. Nick” in a local mini-mall. He didn’t ask many questions, just took my money and handed me a waiver that looked like it had been edited with a Sharpie and held together with scotch tape. I signed without a second thought—what’s a couple of ribs for a life-changing opportunity?
After surgery, I was ready to try my newfound “freedom.” But then came the problem: bending forward wasn’t as easy or comfortable as I’d imagined. It hurt—a lot. Turns out, ribs aren’t just there to keep your organs from sloshing around like an unattended Jell-O salad; they actually provide important structural support. Without two of them, I found myself struggling just to sit upright, let alone contort into some mythical self-sufficiency dick-sucking stance. Instead of acrobatic flexibility, I got intense back pain, a newfound understanding of my skeleton’s role in keeping me upright, and something I can only describe as “severe lung pain.”
I tried everything — stretching, yoga, even an acrobatics class. But I could barely manage to bend over without looking like I was in a body horror film. Meanwhile, my organs staged a silent rebellion, sighing dramatically every time I tried to take a deep breath. Eventually, I consulted a “real” doctor, who gave me a sympathetic look and said, “Did you not know that ribs are there for a reason?” Turns out, my previous doctor had skipped that part, too focused on how “liberated” I’d feel.
And that brings us to the painful lesson: leave your ribs where they are. Keep those bones and thank your body for the work it does keeping you from folding in half like a beach chair. If you’re thinking of surgery to gain some mythical “advantage,” I assure you, the cost isn’t worth it—mainly because there is no reward. Let’s leave rib removal to the shock rockers. I’ll be over here, a humbled guy with two fewer ribs, learning to love my semi-functional body just the way it is. Goddammit.