Life Lessons

There's an old saying that goes "you should learn from your own experiences and mistakes", but it is easier to say it and to write about it than to apply it in real life. And today was one of those days when I'd have really liked to be able to keep that phrase more handy.

Specially because this is a story that involves Jean-Francois' penis.

After coming back to my office building from lunch, I stop in the restrooms located in the first floor to take a leak -I always drink water with lunch but today I drank more water than usual. Once I finished I headed for the elevators, pressed the "up" button and waited patiently while a small group stared to gather around.

While waiting I started to feel a little weird, like a little discomfort right below my belly button, something that started like a little itching that by the time I jumped in the elevator and pressed my floor number started to turn into a burning sensation. Yes my friends, a burning sensation right in my crotch, and to be more precise, right in my dick.

Of course everybody pressed a different floor and the elevator was slower than ever and the little burning sensation started to get less little and more closer to a BURNING sensation in fucking capital letters. And I was unable to reach in my pants and check out what the fuck was going on with my flute, as there was plenty of people around.

By the time I got to my floor my Huge love tool was burning and I was fricking out, "this is the fucking end" I thought and once I got in the restroom I locked myself in the toilet reserved for the handicaps, which has plenty of room, and according to what I was feeling I really thought that I was gona be handicap for the rest of my life!

I pulled out my anaconda and with both hands checked out what the hell was going on, but didn't see anything strange. I went to the sink, wet some paper towel and went back into the handicap toilet. Very careful and very gentle I wiped out my baloney not knowing what the fuck was going on. The cold damp wet paper towel gave me some temporary relieve and I thought that maybe the lack of use (no girlfriend) was taking a toll on me and I sweared right there that I was going to take things into my own hands, I mean, not into "my hands" but more in the way of trying harder to meet someone.

I pulled up my pants, straightened my neck tie, went to the sink, washed my hands, and wet my forehead in order to get rid of all the sweat in my forehead, because I was suffering my friends. Then the burning sensation started again and I noticed that it had moved to my nuts! I got in the toilet again and by the time I pulled my pants down again, thinking that maybe I was seeing my manhood for the last time because it was going to have to be removed, the itching and burning moved to my forehead. At that time the shit had clearly hit the fan and I was literally covered in it, so I realized that even though my palm tree, coconuts and forehead were burning I knew that it was either fainting right there or dropping to my knees asking for forgiveness. But then a moment of clarity arrived to my not very clever mind and I understood every-fucking-thing.

And I couldn't help it but laugh and remember that I definitely hadn't learnt from my past experiences.



One of my co-workers always have a garden during summer, where he and his wife grow among other things tomatoes and habaneros, which is a type of chili. Around this time of the year I always get a bag of each from him and today I took one of the little habaneros with me for lunch. In the restaurant I chopped the habanero and mixed together with my rice and vegetables and put a little bit on top of the grilled Mahi-Mahi. Of course that that little habanero was spicy as hell, and I had to drink a lot of water; and as I drank a lot of water, I had to stop in the bathroom in the first floor of my building on my way back to my office.

So while in the restroom with my pants down and my dick, balls and forehead in fire I recalled that after lunch and after chopping that little habanero I didn't watch my hands, therefore the juices from it end up on my manhood and therefore that fucking burning sensation.

A couple years ago I got the same bag with the same tomatoes and habaneros and something similar happen to me back then, but I didn't learn my lesson. I got home one night, cooked some pasta and chopped a little habanero to spread it on my plate. Once I finished eating and drinking lots of water, I watched TV for a while and then I went to the restroom, washed my hands and proceed to take out my CONTACT LENSES! Sun-a-ba-bitch my friends! Needless to say even though I washed my hands really fucking good my eyes burned like crazy and even the tears that rolled down my checks burned them as well. Back then I thought that the solution for my contacts has gone bad and end up buying two more bottles (I have to confess it that I'm a slow learner and a couple weeks later, exactly the same happen and I blame it on the solution again, not even thinking about the little habaneros).

I learnt my lesson today, the hard way and for the second time in my life, would it stick to me?