I'm the
first (and, as far as I know, only)
victim of Tibetan Unexplained Calf Pain Syndrome, as described
here. One of the symptoms of this
strange disease is that I have an uncontrollable need to tell personally embarrassing stories about myself, especially when they involve the use of a
vibrator.
Fortunately Everything is the perfect outlet for this symptom as I can tell the stories without the fear of being fired, ostracized, beaten up by homophobic rednecks at my local blue collar bar, or taunted by schoolchildren.
In the Vibrator Warning node I explained how I came to own a perfectly clean and unused vibrator. I won't go into detail about it here, but suffice to say that I have one lying around and it comes in handy for generating embarrassing stories about myself.
A couple of years ago I went snowboarding for the first time and, despite my best efforts fell down more times than I stood up (the laws of physics are suspended when snowboarding) and came home feeling like the floor of a New York City taxicab. I was in so much pain I filled the tub and took a long hot bath, letting the steam and hot water soak into my every pore, which had the net effect of leaving me hot, wet, and still in extreme pain.
Fortunately, I still had my handy-dandy clean and unused vibrator, which I subsequently slept with. I put in a new pair of C-cell batteries and curled up with a good book. My chest hurt worst of all and, in this situation, you can manage quite a bit of relief by putting a vibrator in your armpit and squeezing it with your arm. This also conveniently leaves the little speed-control dial sticking out the top for you to fiddle with.
The type of pain you accumulate while snowboarding is, sadly, not the kind of pain you can get rid of by massaging your aching muscles. It's the kind of pain that seeps out slowly over a period of days or weeks. The next day at work, my co-workers asked why I was looking like I felt, and I told them the story about my clean and unused vibrator and how I had slept with it the night before.
Since then, there hasn't been a single mention of snowboarding without everyone shaking their fingers rapidly at me (vibrator-like) and making a buzzing sound (also vibrator-like). For a while I was nicknamed "Snowboards with Vibrators" after the Kevin Costner film. And strangely, no one invites me snowboarding anymore, which is just as well since I don't have any spare C-cell batteries lying around.