Wee Wally's willie was wedged while whizzing...

Normally the Brits are a sensible lot, not likely to get "bogged down" in general silliness, but an article in today's Toronto Star certainly got my attention.

I would ask you to please refrain from laughing out loud - as I did earlier this morning. I actually made Rice Krispies appear out of each nostril - a feat unto itself since one has been blocked thanks to a rugby incident in the early '70's.

Dr. Joe Philip of Leighton Hospital warns that parents should be extra vigilant during the holidays. "As Christmas approaches, many families will be visiting relatives and friends and their recently toilet-trained toddlers will be keen to show how grown up they are by going to the toilet on their own."

It would seem that there has been a rash of small boys who have sustained injuries to their tadger by way of falling toilet seats. There is, by all accounts, a major risk of "penis crush" from heavy wooden, ceramic and ornamental toilet seats.

I am not making this up.

So it begs the question? Why now? Growing up as a lad in Scotland, I never heard of any of my friends being caught short by American Standard's best. Rhetorical question; is there something wrong with the youth of today that would cause certain unwitting and likely well-developed male children (imagine the whole process of "an accident" and you'll "see" what I mean) to suffer such embarrassment and potential physical and mental scarring?

Unbelievable. And to think that money was actually spent on this study - and it was delivered with a straight face.

I do, however have first hand knowledge of an incident with an older gentlemen who, one Christmas morning many years ago, bleary eyed and hung-over, helped with the annual Christmas morning breakfast. This fellow was the only male in a household of women. There was his wife and his five daughters. This poor fellow treasured any time he could get in their one washroom

I digress.

So hung-over to beat the band, the excitement of Christmas morning and the crescendo of six twittering women - removing a ham from the oven, this poor fellow somehow managed to catch the drawstring of his PJ bottoms in the oven door as it closed, drawing him inexorably closer to the diminishing opening as the door closed - rapidly.

The drawstring was not the only wayward object that got caught in the door that morning.

By all accounts, this fellow's member resembled a piece of flank steak for many days after.

Needless to say, ham has not been on the Christmas morning menu for some years now.