Ah yes and finally here is my new blog:

http://rabbitpurr.livejournal.com/

Which covers a rather broader set of topics, but I'll probably slip some contextually innappropriate mentions in there now and again; I even managed to in my first post! For now I am finding the wider remit somewhat baffling in its possibilities but I am certain I shall do something worthwhile with it.

Goodbye guys.

I feel that it is time, if you will excuse the pun, for me to hit this one on the head.

As you might have noticed this is the first post I have made this year and it shall also be my last. The point of this blog was to chart my preputial progress and that process is complete and was a long time ago. It has been plenty of fun and anyone who comes across this post and is hoping for some help can still email me at icanseethehillsfromhere@gmail.com {that offer is open to all of you old timers as well :)}

The more astute, or downright memorable, of you may also have noticed that today is the first annual anniversary of my premier post here and that also seems as good a point as any the end it on. To be honest it could have ended a lot sooner, my phimosis certainly did, but I suppose I am just sentimental. My thanks to Doctor Beauge for saving me steroids and surgery and plaudits to Weregoat for aiding and abetting this foul chronicle.

I shall leave you with how this all started:

http://beaugeblog.blogspot.com/2006_03_01_archive.html

Nothing much to report, sorry readers but all is well... ;)

Here is a link to the NZ Bear GOP vote though, this question is currently in sixth place and please do your bit to get it even higher by voting "Strongly Positive":

http://truthlaidbear.com/gop_qvote.php?id=277

An excellent article distributed by a charity has some good words on pg.35 of this online article:

http://www.mesmac.co.uk/sex/pdf/below_the_belt.pdf

(You will require an Adobe PDF Reader to view it)

Yes friends, it would seem that the Summer months are well and truly through. Here in Britain at least (I am aware that I have some readers from the sub-planetary hemisphere as well, enjoy your sunny Christmas you lot!) the days grow colder along with the day shorted and to add to the already rather unpleasant nature of this occurance it appears that my body has begun to respond in yet another unfortunate fashion.

When exposed to the cold human skin contracts and tightens. This can make the figure look more tight and, perhaps, aesthetically pleasing when scanitily or non-existantly clad (as any pornographic photographer worth his semen knows) but in my case it also results in a less than enjoyable grip being delivered by the preputal sphincter.

However this can easily be amended by exerting some minor pressure on the top of the penis and pushing down for total retraction. After a few swishes in this fashion it fades, especially once the foreskins distribution across the glans and mucosal tissue has completed by which point things are internally slippery and fun.

Or just have a warm bath or shower and turn the heating up, whatever.

A jolt of shock and a glow of happiness. Today is a good day:

[Extract from The Times, Saturday 30th September's "Body&Soul" section]

"CIRCUMCISION FEAR

Out eight-yearoldson's foreskin will not pull back over the top of his penis. OGP says he will need to be circumcised, and that it is better to get it done soon. Is there an alternative?
James W. Macaulay, Cumbria

All boys are born with non-retractible foreskins. In the vast majority of boys, the foreskin will retract by puberty. There is a great deal of data suggesting that, most cases, boys have a retractible foreskin 4. But for some this won't happen until 5, 8, even 10 or 11, and this is nothing to worry about.

Don't be tempted to do anything to encourage the foreskin to retrac Eventually the adhesions holding the foreskin in place will begin to break down and it will gradually retract. It would, however, be reasonable to see a paeatric surgeon or paedaetric eurologist for advice. In the vast majority of cases the foreskin will, in time, retract naturally, without the need for surgical intervention."

Well thank goodness, that yet other GP was so hazardously incompetant worries me but that that this parent was set straight and perhaps many others through reading this articles reassures me.

Whoo!

Hello all, I am back (finally) after an enforced hiatus resulting from my lack of home internet thanks to a dodgy ISP (BT no less, grr...) which seemed to find doing its job and getting me connected the most difficult and convoluted process (if I hear the word "Escalate" just one more time I am going to scream) imaginable but thankfully that is all in the past now. Broadband resumes and I am a happy (and non-phimotic) bunny once more.

But being offline has given me some thinking time (an odd experience to start again after so long but a little like riding a bicycle) during which I have pondered this blog: since it was originally intended as a chronichle for my struggle with phimosis, a struggle which is now pretty much over and has been for quite a while now what purpose exactly does it serve?

As a resource to help others who are in similar situation to the one which I was in of course! There appear to be far too few websites informing people of this and far too many (even the official medical website of India!) spreading the nonsense that a total preputal amputation is neccessary to fix this pretty minor problem. So that is my new cause really, I have helped a few people out through email and even gave advice to an e-friend about a relative (which was somewhat unexpected) at one point.

So it feels good to be back, how ever did you lot cope without me?

A child is dead.

For those of you who can read German:
http://tinyurl.com/mjxec

For those of you who can not that is a story about a child who had a "Routine Operation" (almost certainly a circumcision) for phimosis performed upon him, then died as a consequence during the aftermath.

Having already made a post earlier today about the shocking level of ignorance displayed by doctors I was pretty shocked to discover this. That boy was FOUR. A four year old can not even have phimosis, they do not need any form of treatment for non-retraction at that age.

Even if they did the Beauge Method or a simple steroid cream could have cleared it up, and now a superfluous piece of surgery has been performed and a boy is dead.

For what?

For nothing. There was no reason for it at all.

If it had not been for a medical professional, a man trained and taught for years and paid specifically for his expertise on medical matters then that child would still be alive and fine today. So an institution and profession designed to save and enhance quality of life was solely responsible for the death of someone not even half a decade into existance.

To say that this sickens me would be an immense understatement. I could rant on for thousands of words about this but I am having trouble finding the words.

This must end.

Right, that is quite enough about my balls for the moment.

Back to phimosis. Things seem to have stayed roughly the same in terms of ease, I noticed that if left unretracted for a while when you finally do attempt to it can be a little stiff.

I have been thinking about this condition quite a lot lately, inspired by a comment left in my last post in which a man posted to tell us of a doctor who had informed him that the best way to cure his case was to rip his foreskin around the glans manually until he had teared it enough so that it would slip back.

Now take your mind off of how much agony that would inspire and consider the doctor. This is a man who is a medical professional, it is his job to diagnose conditions from symptoms and propose cures, he trained for at least seven years to do precisely that and was taught thoroughly and yet despite all this when confronted with a fairly common problem his reaction was to suggest a rememdy which not only highlighted his ignorance and incompetance starkly but also displayed a shocking lack of common sense.

In fact this absurd state of affairs has reached the level where I, a mere layman, am better informed than the specialist urologist I visited when it comes to non-surgical cures for a common penile condition.

So how do they get away with it? I can understand that the majority of the populace could be ignorant about these things, they have never been told or trained, they are in no position of responsibility. But a doctor? Someone who is paid solely to ease ills? How can so very many of them know so very little?

It seems a mystery to me. I doubt that incompetance of this leauge with any other body part would be tolerable and yet it is somehow reasonable to see the male prepuce through wholly uninformed eyes.

Presumably this is some form of flash-back to the time when most would have had theirs removed without their consent soon after birth?

I have no certain knowledge of the reasoning but whatever it is the reality bothers me. I am more thankful now than ever for the wonderful data resource that is the internet. I find it somewhat bemusing that something that tends to be seen as such a dubious source of information excels many doctors, professionals viewed as the very peak of sound advice.

Things are going very well!

Healing up nicely, no rupturing and now things are looking a less scabby down there. It seems less likely that I am going to get scarring now, which is quite a relief. No pain any longer and walking is an act of ease again rather than a wary shuffle.

The cast removal did not go precisely how I had anticipated that it would.

My prediction was that I would turn up, the doctor would take it off and that would be that. As it transpired the doctor examined it, sent me off to see the nurse who examined it as well, then they both examined it and there was much toing and froing of the most time consuming nature and some confusion over who should remove it until it was finally revealed that I was to remove it.

So I hopped about a bit and painfully seperated scrotum from sling and saw with some distaste that it had been so hard to remove thanks to numerous layers of blood that had fused the two together.

The nurse then checked was type of stitches I had with a terror-inspiring contraption (a load of dissolvables and one they would have to remove), then coated my balls in salt-water and wiped the blood off of them (which hurt a lot) and then told me that I could now have baths at home, which was a relief.

I am going Japanese at the moment: showering fully clean before soaking in a bath with teatree oil and soap. Nurse's orders. Also quite nice.

What was nice was scraped the dead skin which had accumulated freely upon my balls across the nine unwashed days preceding it, eight of which it had been totally covered. Quite satisfying but very messy.

Beauge Method currently unhold until I get over my fear of rupturing each and every time I masturbate.

Cast is coming off tomorrow!

Thank the stars...This thing is becoming most irksome. Tight and confining and starting to smell of musk fairly badly. But soon I shall be free.

Gah, pesky testicles...

In not too much pain today, pain meds did a damn fine job on my head since I was in agony this morning.

Finding it difficult to believe that I am still only on day three, it feels like easily a week has passed already. I do have the consolation that at least my penis is not in pain too as it would have been but for the good Doctor. My penis does seem to be a lot more furled of late though, probably something to do with the skin loosened up from the hydrocele's removal.

I am hoping very much that there is not much in the way of scarring.

So much for out-patient... <_<

Basically I was expecting my surgery at around 8-9 AM yesterday morning, I was glad because that seemed pretty soon and I was hoping to get the whole process over and done with at top speed.

I had some cream applied to my hand to numb it nicely so the tube would not hurt when shoved in and watched a BBC new report about the cost of parking at hospitals and the heatwave that was apparently going to strike as soon as I was bed bound.

Then a nurse brought some bad news, apparently due to some reason or other (perhaps a mix-up or maybe some emergencies) my op had been delayed to around 2PM. I was less than pleased at this turn of affairs but decided kicking up a fuss would not really acheive anything and so just waited, spending the time reading and on the internet. I also met the anaethetist who was a lovely chap and very encouraging. Oh and the nurses were superb, as NHS nurses tend to be.

It turned out the delay was even larger than expected and eventually I did not get the op performed until around five upon the clock, most irksome and the wait dragged on horribly towards the end when I was moved into another waiting room and a wait I had expected to reach around the five minute mark took forty.

But finally, and about ten minutes after the doctor had checked my weight I was ushered through to the surgery room and had a tube inserted into my left hand (which had had another application of the cream since the last one wore off) that I barely even felt and then I was put under.

Beforehand though I told them that the prepuplastory was cancelled since I had cured it via the Beauge Method (I thought that they would already know!) so the stretch was not performed, thankfully. However I was also a little paranoid about awakening a prepuce short and sans sheath (which would have made all my hard wanking work a bit of a waste of time, not to mention the Beaugeblog itself) and thus jotted down "Circumcision" under the list of operations I was not prepared to have performed upon me without consultation. I considered putting down castration and eunuchification as well but decided to give the surgeons a little more trust than that.

I have never been under a general as far as my recollection goes (although I did when I was seven months old) and it was not really an experience I can easily talk about, which is sort of the point. It was basically plunging to sleep while not actually feeling tired.

I woke up later that day and the first thing that I did was check my penis, which was still cased in a double layered sleeve of erogenous tissue, much to my relief. My pioneering hand then discovered that my genitals had been encased in some innovative contraption that seemed to be a combination of a cast, a sling and a dressing. I am aware that it undoubtably has some valuable purpose (protection of the wound and from infection more than likely) but it was awfully uncomfortable to the extent of actually causing me pain, besides the wound itself there was also some swelling that was crumpling around the confines of this tight device in a must unpleasant fashion.

Thankfully I got some pain killing meds that made that die down nicely.

It still made a trip to the toilet somewhat problematic: the first time I took one such visit I was certain that the device had been placed to far back and would become coated in my defecation. Thankfully this was not the case, although I did have to use some front-to-back wiping which is the opposite of standard. Ah yes, and the foreskin came of use as well! My penis protrudes from the dressing at such an angle that my standard urination routine can not be used so instead I just bend the skin down and let the flow deflect along it and down into the toilet in a neat fashion.

I was hoping to go home but apparently the surgery had been left to late: the out-patient ward closed too soon for my reaction to the anaesthetic to be properly observed so I was forced to stay in overnight. It was nice enough and thankfully I had no adverse reaction to the general (although I did feel a little sick when I got home and voided a little bit of bile before I made this post) and the room was lovely.

In the early afternoon the next day I was discharged and went home, apparently I have to lie still for a week, news that was not all that heartening considering a prominent story was that Britain was going to have its hottest Summer in history and of course the cast/sling/dressing.

The latter apparently could not be wetted, the doctor told me I could have a shower and towel it dry but not have baths but earlier a nurse said I could have neither.

It is going to be a rather smelly and uncomfortable week but I do have a perfect excuse to stay completely static and instead of the standard parental complaints I actually receive a chiding if I move.

Be careful what you wish for hmm?

My balls are feeling a lot better now, although they hurt if moved. Walking? Laughing? Sneezing? Coughing? All bring pain.

Hopefully that will be gone soon though, and my ma is just off obtaining lots of nice (NHS supplied) drugs to combat my pain. So perhaps I will escape this operation with both balls and sanity intact!


Thanks ever so much to all of you, your words were very kind indeed and very, very much appreciated.

What ho there fellows, this missive comes (in a rather illicit fashion) from a computer in a West London hospital where I await an operatoin to remove a hydrocele which has been expanding and swelling within me for a couple of years.

Apparently the complication rate is next to non-existant but all the same I am a little wary and anxious, but I am sure that all shall be well. All the same I might be away for a little while while I recuperate, apparently during recovery time I am going to have to be lying down straight for quite a bit, which is just as well because what with the swelling and pain I would not be focusing on much else anyway.

Literally about to head into surgery right now and I am feeling somewhat nervous.

At least I have the consolation that if I had not triumphed over phimosis at this point I would have been anticipating a prepuplastory as well at this point. Thank the stars for Dr. Beauge!


Wish me luck!

Progress is being made!

I have started retracting fully across the rim throughout while previously I had left my glans half-covered until the end. It takes some effort but it is possible to expose a little more around the back of the head. The oddest thing happens when I tug the skin down though, my body's lube seems to get trapped in the fold and when pulled down it sort of squits out in a bubbly, and oddly satisfying, fashion.

Things seem to be improving towards the top and I am no longer resigned to leaving it how it is.

Hmmm...

I am still not sure I am totally over this phimosis as of yet. It retracts fine for cleaning and such so I do not believe I am at risk of infection or whatever but there is a still a certain...

Well it is rather hard to describe really, when I am erect my skin beneath and around the sides retracts back fully and sort of almost folds over itself. Towards the top of the head and around the back of the coronal rim though it does go back but does not quite seem to do the same. This seems to be the part of my prepuce with least skin, it is not a major annoyance but it is rather irksome all the same.

With any luck it might go away soon but I can tolerate it for the time being.

Anyone with even a passing interest in the topic of circumcision should read this: http://glandless.blogspot.com

I found it very moving indeed, it brings what is sometimes a very broadly viewed topic into immediate and intimate focus.

Please give him the feedback and support that he deserves.

Ah yes and you might have noticed already that the header of this Blog has switched from "The War on Foreskin" to reference instead the Glans Liberation Front. I consider this move to make myself appeal a little more prepuce-friendly and also less likely to scare away first time readers, or at least that is my hope.

In addition it has been brought to my attention that I have neglected to post up my email address on this blog's main body. You could previously find it in the comments section but if you can not be bothered then here you are: icanseethehillsfromhere[AT]gmail.com

Today's efforts left a bad taste in my mouth.

The content of my fantasies upon this occasion involved Satyrs, a collaborative effort was made during an online RP and considering the insatiable nature of such creatures lasted for quite an extended length of time.

Probably as a consequence of this I experienced what is undoubtably the most messy orgasm I have ever experienced and probably amongst the most pleasurable. The force of my climax was such that I actually spurted into my gasping mouth. This was an unprecedented occurance and caused me quite some shock.

For some reason I had always imagined semen would taste sugary, due to the fuel needed to spurr on the sperm cells. For those interested in reality it is actually like a bizarre mixture of egg white and salty water, that is not a fully adequete description as it is pretty hard to put into words though. It left a rather potent aftertaste as well and I was left with the rather unpleasant thought of my spermatosa swimming into my digestive tract.

Besides from the accidental self-sample I also spurted far more than I can remember having done previously, my chest was drenched in my seed and my mind totally blown.

My thanks to Dr Beauge.

I impressed a doctor with my penis today.

Unfortunately this was not from its size but I like to think that it was a reward for all my hard work: he commented approvingly on how successfully I had banished my phimosis!

Allow me to set the scene: my mother booked a doctor's appointment for me to visit him and discuss my forthcoming hydrocele operation and ensure that I was fully satisfied with the arrangements, location and doctor in charge. In the interim time between her booking it and it occuring however the entire Beaugebloggery period elapsed and I made some discoveries I was worried about.

Firstly there were the pearly white papules but I was none to worried about them (neither was the doctor although he did correct my pronounciation from "Pay-Puools" to "PAPuools") but I also observed an elevated purple mark running along the top of my coronal rim in addition to some miniscule white spots on the top of my glans that seemed to be spreading.

I was concerned with these and feared deeply that the former might be some malicious yet unknown condition, or possibly even cancer (just to put things into perspective it is over one hundred times more likely for a man to get cancer of the breast than cancer of the penis but all the same I was not willing to take my chances) which would result in a circumcision. The latter I suspected to be a case of progressive BXO, which could also result in a circumcision.

Before going to the doctor's surgery I bathed (they have a bad enough job as it is without having whiffy genitals smelling of anal migration) and considered my earlier post on this blog, imagining how horrendous life would be if such a large source of pleasure was to end. Yet worse if it was cancer of the glans they might have been forced to remove that entire organ, a consideration which I could barely stand to contemplate. Furthermore considering the effort I had taken in evading all forms of preputal surgery the notion of requiring it amputated completely was made even less appealing by the realisation that all of my work utilising the Beauge Method would have been a mere waste of time and unworth the effort.

So with some tension in the air I strolled into the General Practioners office and asked the receptionist to check me in. She informed me that I was meant to be there an hour earlier and that I had missed my appointment, instructing me to sit down and await her checking of whether the doctor was still present.

This was something of a Twilight Zone moment for me because I had seen the appointment slip with my own eyes and it had clearly been marked 6.30 not 5.30. All the same I took my seat and was highly relieved when Dr. K. himself called me in.

I told him about my personal curing of my phimotic condition (not in any detail, I just informed him that it had happened really) and he cancelled the prepuplastory and then I informed him about my findings. He took me through to the inspection room after picking up a rather unflattering magnifying glass (although I swiftly realised the implication was not that I had a micro-penis that required visual amplification to be found but that he required a closer look to ascertain what certain growths or protusions might be).

I lay down and removed my jeans and retracted myself with reasonable ease, resulting in him remarking words to the effect that it was clear my phimosis was gone and the method had acheived its aim. I felt oddly proud at that point and on the way home I considered having "Approved by the NHS" tatooed along my shaft. So there we have it, doctor's approval of my victory over the phimotic state that had plauged me.

He informed me that the white spots coating the rim were indeed papules which I basically knew anyway but having it confirmed was nice. I pointed out the white spots and they were examined along with the purple protrusion.

He dispelled my concern in a few sentances saying that such irregularities are common and that they were unworthy or deserving of any form of treatment and would cause me no further harm whatsoever. This knowledge brought me a substantial level of relief as did the information provided on the doctor responsible for my hydrocele operation who apparently would do a good job and had been around for quite a while.

He also commented just after I redressed that my hydrocele was fairly substantial, I was uncertain whether to be embarassed or proud.

All in all it was a considerably different affair to the previous visit to the GP's and filled me with joy and relief. Now all I have is a single operation upon my testicles to rid me of the hydrocele (apparently medically speaking it was a very minor thing requiring only a very light anaesthetic although despite saying this Dr. K. acknowledged that it probably seemed a rather more major affair to me, which was a correct assertation) and then my genitals, the unluckiest pair ever, will provide me no discontent whatsoever.

Joy.

Foreskin: 2 Circumfetishists: 0

Today was quite a stunner.

As I might have mentioned prior to my usage of the Beauge Method and while my phimosis reigned my urethral opening was barely ever exposed (in fact to do so caused me minor pain) and stimulation consisted of just rubbing the skin horizontally along the glans my orgasmic flow consisted of a fast stream, or at best a forceful river.

Now however the appropriate comparison is probably a geyser.

The first round of self-abuse (don't you just love the Irish? They have the best phrases for everything...) was astounding enough and some heavy coronal rim stim resulted in a massive spurt that struck the underside of my jaw. I found that amazing enough and it was already a record so when it came to my seconds I doubted immensely that further acheivements would be accomplished. How wrong I was...

My second spurt actually coated my chin, a pretty astounding occurance as far as I was concerned. My musing of whether or not to leave it there was cut short by the consideration of the possibility of a There's Something About Mary style situation. All the same I considered it quite an acheivement.

Oddly though I find the spurt a rather less sensual occurance that when the skin coats the head. Eminantly preferable is to cup it near to the opening when the heat, force and texture resultant from orgasm strike can be felt in its full glory and experienced totally through so sensitive an area. However spurting is somewhat more satisfying in its own way: it serves as more of a -release-. So as both are brilliant in their own way I have discovered the optimum is to allow a full spurt at first while fully retracted and then to return the foreskin around the head and allow the rest to pump along it in the highly pleasurable fashion which I am accustomed to.

And to think that others take voyages for the purpose of self-discovery! I have found out all this about myself in bed and seated upon a toilet...

I am done!

Exams were finished on Friday which was immensely, intensely and incredibly satisfying. Very pleased indeed.

Sorry for not posting before but on Saturday I was sleeping for pretty much all of the day, on Sunday my sister returned home from university and posed quite a distraction and I also had to go to a barbeque which I spent with a pleasant mixture of smoke from charred animal carcasses and pure pollen pouring up my nostrils.

The perfect day for a vegetarian hay-fever sufferer huh?

On Monday I went on an induction course where we were supposed to be prepared for the Sixth Form, apparently. It started off with a powerpoint that firstly quoted the mass-murderer Che Guevara in a fashion it expected to be inspirational, then followed this up with far too many quotes from Jesus and then to back up the most famous Jew in history it used the words of the rabid anti-semite Henry Ford.

No mention was made of Jesus' missing prepuce.

After that travesty we had some team work exercises such as climbing a wall together, making a water-funnel and other such activities which were fairly enjoyable if somewhat mindless. After that we went to a Mariner's Base where some people who were not members of the God Squad actually did really enjoyable things with us. We built a raft that (through some merry miracle) was the only one to actually be lakeworthy and then went into concrete caves which were so tight they lead me to suspect that they were actually a subtle penile empathy class. All the same it was immense fun.

Once that was through we had a night walk and afterwards I expected to rest but instead we were forced to endure further indoctrination, bombed out on pollen, heavily fatigued and wondering why we were all being forced to have a one-way conversation with a being as real as the tooth fairy I had possibly the most miserable half-hour of my existance thus far.

The day after there was debating and bike riding which were great and then a mass, which was not.

But now the part you actually care about: penile progress. Well today it is good news, I have started encorporating in the full gliding motion to highly pleasurable effect. Previously I had only been retracting about 3/4 the way down the glans but now I am pulling back totally and have observed a good deal of pleasure is to be found from stimulation of the coronal rim.

As for climaxes well I have noted that retracting fully during the build-up directly before orgasm followed by pushing the skin up around the crown during the first spurt has spectacular results and almost caused me to hit my neck with the resulting deluge.

In short great fun, things are still stiff and tight at times but overall things seem to be improving greatly.

Sorry about the neglect displayed to my blog of late.

This is partially because of the exams that seem to be bombarding me at present and partially because I seem to be in the ultimate stages of the transition from sufferer to ex-sufferer.

I assure you that as soon as I get the time I shall spend more time posting. Now that it seems to have cleared up mostly what exactly I post is something I shall have to decide upon at a later stage.