Do you wear your manhood on your sleeve?
Does your forearm have foreskin?
Could you be sued for making a muscle?
If so, you’ve got something in common with Malcolm MacDonald.
For the rest of you, if the 45-year-old British man tells you he pulled something in his arm, it may not mean what you think.
Long ago, a terrible infection in his perineum left him with tainted love: As reported by The Sun, the mechanic’s unmentionables turned black.
His fingers and toes similarly shifted shades, and his darkened digits left him down in the dumps:
“I had struggled for years with [the infection], but I had no idea what could happen. When I saw my penis go black, I was beside myself. It was like a horror film. I was in a complete panic. I knew deep down it was gone and I was going to lose it.”
In 2014, he was proven right — from the dessert menu of misfortune, Malcolm was served a banana split:
“[O]ne day it just dropped off on to the floor.”
That fall gave way to the winter of his discontent.
“I just picked it up and put it in the bin. I went to the hospital and they said the best they could do for me was to roll the remaining stump up like a little sausage roll. It was heartbreaking.”
For the next couple years, the separated father of two “felt a shadow of a man.”
“My life really fell apart, because I had no self-confidence. I drank too much. I didn’t see family and friends — I just didn’t want to have to face up to it.”
But fortune’s pendulum swung: Malcolm found London University College Hospital’s “penis master,” Professor David Ralph.
The genital reconstruction expert had famously crafted a “bionic penis” for Andrew Wardle, who — like an aberrant apple — had been born with no stem.
Dr. David gave Malcolm “a glimmer of hope that [he] could go back to being a normal bloke.”
And since the two-year, $65,000 project wasn’t merely sexual (the procedure would allow him to urinate properly), it would be funded by the National Health Service.
What’s more, Malcom got the extended package — two additional inches.
“They were happy to listen to what I wanted it to be like,” he enthused. “Which was amazing. Not many can say they have a designer penis.”
Lamentably, the designer brand must’ve been Armani: On the minus side of the miracle, the man’s high-fashion phallus would have to be grown on his arm.
— New York Post (@nypost) July 31, 2020
From the New York Post:
Surgeons formed a new manhood — with its own blood vessels and nerves – using a skin flap on the left arm of the right-handed man. They created a urethra and installed two tubes inflated with a hand-pump, allowing him to achieve an erection.
Arm, schmarm — finally, he was just like everyone else:
“When I saw it on my arm for the first time, I was so, so proud. After everything I had been through it didn’t feel weird at all — it was just a part of me. I was like any other man, I just couldn’t leave it alone to begin with. I thought it was the best thing ever.”
He named it after his buddies:
“I took to it so much, I nicknamed it ‘Jimmy.’ That was what me and my mates called each other growing up, and this penis was definitely my new mate.”
But his friend wasn’t supposed to be a permanent fixture: The manufactured manpart was meant to be transplanted into his trousers.
However, due to a series of missed appointments, scheduling issues, and now the coronavirus, it’s been four years.
Siri, what is the worst thing the NHS has ever done?
“Father whose penis dropped off due to a blood infection became the first man to have a new one built on his arm – but delays mean it has been stuck there for four years”
via https://t.co/RUpoWOImNs https://t.co/CuOYCqOqjJ
— Andy Mayer (@mayerandrew) July 31, 2020
Still, he’s holding onto hope:
“I am determined this penis will be ultimately used for what it was built for.”
In the meantime, the impact must be immense–
Arm wrestling’s out.
And in a tickle fight, steer clear of his funny bone.
But if you need someone to count to eleven, he’s your man.
I just hope he isn’t angry at the world — in a brawl, the guy would come out swingin’.
He’s armed and wangerous. I mean, dongerous.
Sorry — dangerous.
And I’d hate to be on the receiving end of his rear naked choke.
Thankfully, Malcolm appears to be keeping it classy — and let’s hope that includes long sleeves.
Don’t stop believing, big guy. Schedule your surgery, and live a life worthy of three thumbs up.
Or — after the operation — just two.
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