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Weekend Review
The Condom Diaper?

There’s something to be said about a country where there’s nothing to do but ride reindeer and screw. But Norway’s socially progressive nature might be a bit too extreme even for TWIS. This week a two-month-old Norwegian baby named Evan Andreas received a letter from a local hospital informing him that the results of his chlamydia test had come back negative. Of course, just because he lucked out this time doesn’t mean he’s off the hook, and so the hospital’s letter also prudently advised the infant always to use a condom. We’d like to offer another bit of health-related counsel to little Evan Andreas: stay away from freaky Viking doctors.

Medical Malpractice Bonanza #1

For those not hip to urban slang, tagging means marking something with your name or your handle, if you will. It’s the human equivalent of pissing on a fire hydrant, and usually reserved for graffiti artistes. But the distinctive joy of scrawling your name on somebody else’s property is not completely lost on the upper crust. This week, a disgruntled Kentucky woman has been hitting the talk show circuit to chat about Dr. J. Michael Guiler, who carved the initials of his alma mater into her uterus before removing it during a hysterectomy. A video tape of the surgery clearly shows the doctor using a cauterizing tool to mark “UK” (University of Kentucky) in two-inch-high letters on his unsuspecting patient’s insides. Dr. Guiler defended his work yesterday, saying the practice of marking organs to be removed is common and acceptable. His Lexington hospital had the doc’s back, issuing the following statement: “We have confirmed that marking the uterus in this type of surgical procedure is a step that can be used to identify anatomical landmarks, and is intended to assist the physician in the procedure.” So okay, the uterus can be marked for medical reasons, or hell, just for kicks, but the name of your school? That’s not what we call keepin’ it real. The marked woman, Stefanie Means, insists that she was never told that her hysterectomy required the doctor to mark her uterus and that she and her family now feel violated. To avoid a lawsuit, Dr. Guiler has agreed to have the initials of Means’ alma mater spray-painted on his kidneys.

You Shave My Back, I’ll Shave Yours

We always knew there was something a little off about swimmers. Pool water is cold and funny-smelling, and so are the people who spend a lot of time in it. Our suspicions have been proven beyond a doubt by events in Campbell, California, where a group of eight year olds in a swimming class walked in on a coed locker room “shavedown” being held by a teen swim team. “What is a shavedown,” you ask? Well, Virginia, it’s when your closest thick-shouldered friends get together and shave each other, thus lessening the drag of pool water on their skin and improving their speed. Apparently, the younger girls were traumatized when they walked in on the foamfest, prompting their parents to tell them that the teens they saw were, um… doing a science fair project on, um… how razors um… work on um… genitals. Cough. Shuffle. Uncomfortable silence.

Medical Malpractice Bonanza #2

Sometimes less really is more. A British chap should have taken this into account before asking London’s answer to The Simpsons‘ Dr. Nick turn his modest tallywhacker into a misshapen and slightly smaller knobelwurst. “Mr. A.,” as the patient is known in British tabloids, parted with $5,313 for a “triple technique dual increase male organ enlargement,” which was supposed to add three inches in length and a ninety percent increase in girth. A. is now suing the doctor who performed the enlargement because his penis is now two inches shorter. Said a representative of the U.K.’s General Medical Council: “It [the triple technique] hardly ever works. The fat is often absorbed so either there is no improvement or the patient is left with a lumpy and irregular penis.” This info may have been of greater use to Mr. A. before the irreversible damage took place. Meanwhile, a Cambodian couple turned their Lowell, Massachusetts, apartment into a makeshift breast-enhancement clinic that’s been described by a local building inspector as “Dr. Frankenstein’s workshop.” (Um, maybe we were reading the abridged version, but we don’t remember Frankenstein’s monster having a noteworthy rack.) The horrific scene included a wooden “operating table” that was covered in bloody sheets and a “shiny substance” that officials believe to be silicone — as well as a hunchbacked assistant shrieking, “It’s alive!” about nothing in particular.

We Can Clearly See Your Nuts

From the “so sad, it’s almost not funny” file: Remember when you were a kid and would stop at nothing to get your heart’s desire? Lobbying your parents for a new bike or checkered Chuck Taylors by presenting an elaborate two-stage lawnmowing/lemonade-selling repayment plan? The desperation in your pitch was utterly palpable. Well you ain’t heard desperate until you’ve heard about the plight of poor Chad Wegkamp: a boy driven to criminality by what he perceived to be a humongous scrotum. Convinced that his sack was making him a laughingstock among his peers, Chad found a plastic surgeon who agreed to operate on his manbag (which was perfectly normal-sized, by the way). The eighteen year old tried to pry the cash out of his pops, with no success. Then he made counterfeit cash on his computer using green food dye before actually attempting the medical procedure himself. His mutilated undercarriage held together with electrical tape, he then decided to hold up a bank. Game over: Chad willingly handed over his getaway vehicle’s license plates to two incredulous cops. When an understandably miffed father Wegkamp asked just what in blue blazes was going on, Chad replied, “Dad, I needed the money for my scrotum.” A sentence that had never been uttered since the birth of modern man. Wegkamp, who has been diagnosed with schizophrenia, will stand trial for robbery on March 19.

Assistance provided by Carrie Hill Wilner.

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