Mrs. Commissioner decided she was finished having children.  She made this decision after the Deputy Commissioner launched a projectile poop attack at 3:00 a.m.  At 3:01 a.m., the decision was made to have the Commissioner retro-fitted to shoot blanks.

At least she was kind enough to inform me of the decision at 6:30 a.m.  A luxury not afforded to Willie Randolph (Obsure link....http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=3447973 ).  There are two types of men in the world, and which type of man you are, depends totally and completely on what type of wife you have.  Do you have the wife that realizes the entire world is controlled by, what was in the 70s, a patch of fur the size of the palm of your hand?  Or do you have a wife that doesn't?  If you have a wife that does, you are the kind of man than schedules an appointment with a urologist.  If you don't, well then you are the kind of man that should buy stock in Trojan.

Like any man, when you are issued an edict from the Master Chief, you comply, or face being cut off.  I started asking other men, if they have had the "procedure" done.  What to expect, etc.  I was completely startled, men do not like to talk about the big snip.  So, armed with no advice, from anyone, I scheduled an appointment.  I was hoping he wouldn't be able to fit me in until May 2018, but alas, his receptionist said, "what time tomorrow would you like to come in?"  Tomorrow? Tomorrow?  That's only a day away!, I said.  The receptionist, said, "Annie I have you scheduled for 2. "

The only way I know to describe the feeling of walking into the doctor's office that day, is, it felt like when you were a kid, and your mom had finally gotten fed up with your long hair, and she was taking you to the barber to get shorn like a sheep.  You knew it was coming, resistance was futile.

The doctor comes in.  He was a youngish guy, who looked like he was skipping P.E.  He was completely clinical.  Went over the standard medical stuff.  Explained the procedure, but at this point, all I'm thinking was, this guy is skipping P.E.  Where is the high school field trip?  I'm not taking him fishing.  In the end, all I heard was, buy a jock strap, shave everything from your navel to your knees, make sure someone can drive you home, see you Wednesday at 3.  At some point, he said, do you have any questions?  Then, I snapped back out of my trance, and asked, can I come have this done Friday?  No.  How many of these have you done?  Finally, I was comforted, about 5,000, he said.  That's alot of people who aren't taking him fishing.

The "big day" arrives.  My wife drives me to the hospital.  It is important to note, this is a teaching hospital.  I am given the hospital gown.  I had the gown on for about 30 seconds when the doctor and a TEAM of nurses come in.  There must have been about 27,000 of them.  He tells me to take off the gown, I won't be needing it, and hop up on the table.  I disrobed in front of 27,000 women in nurses outfits.  Not one single applause. Not one gasp. Not one adoring look.  I get on the table, and one nurse says, how big of an incision are you going to make?  Now, I'm thinking there are 27,000 women from the Helen Ready School of Nursing who think they are sitting in on a castration clinic.  The doctor tells me to relax.  I ask the doctor if this comes with a happy ending?  He says in about 2 weeks.  GREAT! (More on that later).

So, the doctor is explaining the procedure to the assembled masses.  He says, to them, not me, now I'm going to give him some pain medicine to numb the area.  What happened next, was possibly the most painful thing that has ever happened to me.  A needle was inserted, in the last place in the world you would ever want a needle inserted. The needle was the size of a jousting lance.  One of the nurses asked, "does that hurt?"  The doctor said, the patient is experiencing some 'slight pressure'.  To the women reading this, that is akin to me saying child birth is a minor discomfort.

He then begins slicing, dicing, whatever it was he was doing, and then he says, and now I'm cauterizing the vas deferens.  I'm not really sure what that meant, all I knew is I smelled smoke, and it was coming from me.  The doctor says, "all done...."  WOOHOO! "now the other side..."  NOOOOOOO!  After another round of the jousting lance, and slicing and dicing, the nurses are all talking amongst themselves...."oh this is really simple, my husband is having this done..."  It was then I realized my doctor wasn't teaching anything, I was his own personal recruiting video for another group of men, that were never going to take him fishing. 

We finish, I'm told to go home, lay around for 2 days with an ice pack, and to not exert myself.  Come back in 2 weeks for a follow up appointment.  Unfortunately I had this done on a Wednesday, so i can't lay around on Saturday or Sunday not exerting myself by watching football, baseball, golf.  I got to sit around watching Judge Judy, Judge Mathis and Jerry Springer. 

I return 2 weeks later for the follow up appointment.  A nurse gives me a little sample cup, and says, she needs a sample.  I take the cup, go to the bathroom, take a whiz, and bring her a nice warm cup of pee.  The nurse looks at me like I just let my wife's cat die, because I forgot to feed it for 2 weeks.  She gives me another cup, and says, go give me the right kind of sample.  I'm sitting there thinking how I can #2 in this little bitty cup, and then she points me to "THE ROOM".  She then says to me, "we need a happy ending". 

"THE ROOM" was basically a Lazy Boy, a TV, a VCR, 50 porn magazines, and about 22000 porn DVDs.  This guy could open his own store.  I sat down, made myself at home. Picked out a movie and started thumbing through the magazines, skipping the pages that were stuck together.  About 3 hours later the nurse pounds on the door, she says, "are you done?", we have people waiting.  I see 3 other guys, all wondering how they are going to #2 in that little cup.