Tasteless musings…

Nah. I’m not totally bonkers. So don’t for a moment imagine, as you read thru the rest of this blog, that I’ve entertained the idea for, oh, more than about five seconds.

More that its an interesting – and amusing – thought, which also provokes, as amusing thoughts often do, a more serious question.

So. Over the past year I have had a fair amount of curiosity expressed – entirely from female friends – as to what I will be doing with the, well, you know: the surplus bits post-op.

In meeting with the surgeon a week or so back, andrea was merely putting voice to a sentiment expressed by several women that they’d…rather like it if they could have them after the event to display in various ways around the house. One has suggested they’d make a fine pair of ear-rings. Another would like to keep them on display as warning to other blokes. So andrea’s thought that she’d like them pickled and in a jar was pretty middle of the road!

Then, at about two o’clock on Sunday morning, I was sat chatting to a bevy of assorted and scurrilous women and, from somewhere, arose the idea of putting them on eBay. After all, they’d definitely make a curiosity item. There was obviously a demand. And if Damien Hirst could make a mint out of pickling dead animals, the consensus was that I could make at least a percentage of a mint out of pickling my privates.

Mint balls, anyone?

Practical considerations ensued. We had a sneaking suspicion that eBay wouldn’t allow such an auction to take place, although, was it not eBay that permitted some impoverished student to auction off her virginity? Or am I imagining that?

There was also the small matter of the surgeon having said it was totally out of the question for me to take any souvenirs home with me. That’s the serious bit. I’m sure, in the good old days, that one was permitted to keep souvenirs from operations: gallstones and the like. Is this the insidious influence of health and safety making itself felt once more? Or just a local fastidiousness? The clinic feeling that it really wasn’t proper to allow such items off the premises?

And if i did insist, what then? Don’t i still “own” them somehow? What if i’m one of those resurrectionist types who believes you need all your body parts to hand against the day of judgment. Like, clearly, i’d go before my mker as a woman. But supposing i lost a leg? Aren’t i entitled to keep it and bury it alongside, in my grave?

We-ell. Luckily the question doesn’t arise, because I can see exactly where this is likely to head. Nothing for a week or so. Then picked up by first one tabloid, then all. A run on the item because its news and hey! Its not every day some rich bint with more cash than taste gets to buy such an objet…I’d like to add “d’art”, but art has little to do with it.

We did reckon that in such case, it wouldn’t surprise if they fetched a respectable four-figure sum…and with an op about to set me personally back the best part of £10k, I could see the point, in theory.

We-ell, it beats other dodgier means of raising cash. But to trash my reputation for a few thousand quid? Nah. What’s the point…

jane
xx

What do you mean: you reckon they could go to five figures? Seriously? Remind me… just HOW does one place an ad on eBay…

3 Responses so far »

  1. 1

    Liz Church said,

    I know for a vet with a collection. Every species of mammal to have passed through her office bar one. Maybe you could oblige?

  2. 2

    Sarah said,

    Apparently one doesn’t own ones own bits, and after the Alder Hey thing, they’re required to be destroyed. We checked – my wife wanted my balls in formaldehyde (don’t ask!)

  3. 3

    Romola Des Loups said,

    I know someone who asked for hers. She wanted to have them on her desk with a notice that said ‘this is what happened to the last man who pissed me off’. Sadly, thy refused to let her have them.


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