How do I keep the hole in my head from rotting if there's TEOTWAWKI? : LUSENET : TimeBomb 2000 (Y2000) : One Thread

Please, this is serious. No joke!

The NSV, a Nazi org. rotted out my ear when I was baby. A doctor removed everything that was rotten, including eardrum, hammer, anvil, stirrup, bone and whatnot, leaving a big hollow space with a bone ridge in my precious head. Crud collects behind this ridge and becomes infected if not cleaned out at least 2X a year.

Since I live in the boonies I may not be able to get to a doctor who can do this if there's TEOTWAWKI. Remember there's no ear there. How can I clean out my hole? What can I use? Hydrogen peroxide? Cotton swabs per se don't work.

Dynamite? Sewer snake? ( Just kidding!)

Thanks for your serious contributions.

-- TTF (, February 01, 1999


I suggest talking to your doctor about it. You could tell him/her that it is your desire that he/she train you or someone you trust (loved one/friend) how to clean it properly. " Just in case your ear needs cleaning when you are out of town or unable to make it to his/her office for any other reason."

-- not a dr. (not a dr.but play one on, February 01, 1999.

Next time you go to a doctor, bring a friend. The doctor will train your friend and provide you with the supplies that will be needed. When you get home have your friend do the procedure once per month until he/ she gets used to it.

-- Tomcat (, February 01, 1999.

Get your friend to quickly drink a six pack of beer, wait 15 minutes, then have him urinate in it.

-- this'll work (but@its.messy), February 01, 1999.

I put a little vodka in my ear one time to dissolve a plug of ear wax and it worked pretty well(Popov, I believe).

-- a (a@a.a), February 01, 1999.

I heard ejacualate works great for these type of things. So have your friend blow a load in the hole in your head.

-- (Y2K My @SS.Com), February 01, 1999.

I think a S&W .357 would work better.

-- blowitoutyourear (blowitout, February 01, 1999.


You never disappoint me with your posts. And although I would have enjoyed a bit more description of texture and odor I'll bite:

Q-tips and alcohol? If not...

Maybe a flush bulb and saline/peroxide?

Turkey baster and xylene?

BTW, that would have to be one heck of a good friend to clean yer hole out, stock up on jelly beans as a reward. Mebbee Dr Herr can help ya.

I would help if I was near ya, can't be much worse than what comes outta my dogs' ears.

-- Uncle Deedah (, February 01, 1999.

On the small chance that you are serious (I think you might be - this would be the most creative trolll message ever invented), I recommend a book called "honey, mud, and maggots". Its about some of the old folk remedies that really did work and why. I'll bet there is something in there that could help you.

-- Berry (, February 01, 1999.

Well, TTF, it's been a while since your last misadventure. A pretty good effort overall, with high marks for originality but I'm afraid I must downgrade you on the (relative) lack of disgustingness we've all come to know and expect from you. Except the newbies, I see you got quite a few bites on this one. A quality post indeed, but some of your classic posts from '98, now THOSE were revolting... ;-) Perhaps you could rerun a few of them for nostalgia's sake? Kinda the Best of TTF?

-- YourFullName (email@ddr.ess), February 01, 1999.

* I recommend a book called "honey, mud, and maggots". *

Thanks, Berry, you jogged my memory. There is someone here in town who had an ear infection that was not curable with antibiotics. It was cured by the maggot(s) that a doctor (M.D.) put in his ear. Don't believe it? Research it yourself.

Judging by some of the answers above, I am afraid that some one will be in for a rude shock should TEOTWAWKI arrive. I've seen it all and know what to expect and it ain't pretty. I wish you well.

-- TTF (, February 02, 1999.

TTF: Having read several of your posts here in the past, I believe you may very well be serious about this. If not, you have an imagination that is second to none. Either way, you have quite a gift for putting words to paper/pixels. I've seen very few people who can write about the experiences you do without having actually lived through them. If you are a troll, you are the best I've ever seen. So I'm inclined to treat the question seriously.

Ask the doc if there is anything preventive that you can do (say on a weekly basis) in order to slow the buildup. I'm thinking along the lines of peroxide or something similar on a frequent basis.

Such 'formations' are frequently easier to clean if you become proactive and do it more often.

I don't know how your current cleaning procedure works but there is a medical device for removing ear wax -- look like a giant metal hypodermic only without the needle. It works the same way though. Uses a stream of warm water to remove the wax build up. One of the participants here with a medical background can help me with the name. This might be a possibility.

These are only a suggestions. I have no medical training. But because infections are a serious matter, especially with respect to such previous injuries, do speak with your physician.

And best wishes.

-- Arnie Rimmer (, February 02, 1999.

TTF = Troll Too Funny

-- Whazzit (?LOL@ROF.LMAO), February 02, 1999.

This is a legitamate problem that I too have. I addressed the solution many months ago through my doctor. What I intend to do to maintain whats left of my ear canal is to doush it out twice a year. I have chosen the Summers Eve Brand. My doctor even suggested my favorite fragrance could be used. Are you male or female TTF. My husband just loves my hole..does your lover also. My husband over the years has loved mine to much. My hole in my ear canal started out the size of a quarter. Its now...well you can imagine I'm sure, its the size of my husbands purple headed yogurt slinger. My husband and I are also players or swingers if you will. The average lady can handle two at a time comfortably. Well, as you probably also know threes great. I have got the head action down to a science. If you have not learned this do it now. The men love it. It will be a little sore on your neck for a while because of the twisting action, if your doing it right, but its well worth the learn. If I can be of any help to you please feel free to e-mail me.

-- Reemed Out Ear (, February 02, 1999.

I'm wounded! Oh the slings and arrows!

I was serious. Well, maybe not about the xylene, but tell me this; what does your MD do now? You can get a flush bulb at the RX, it's like a little tiny turkey baster. Folks use it for ear wax.

Sheesh, ya try ta help a guy...

-- Uncle Deedah (, February 02, 1999.

Reemed out ear. Your advice was so funny that I laughed so hard that I blew that crud right out of my ear.

What? Oh, sorry honey, I didn't know you were there.

-- TTF (, February 02, 1999.

Thanks Arnie, you are very perceptive. I have experienced everything that I have posted here about my early TEOTWAWKI. That's the reason for my bluntness and sarcasm. It took no imagination on my part to report this; I was just stating facts.

-- TTF (, February 02, 1999.

I'm not a student of WWII and I had never heard of the NSV so I thought I'd do a quick lookup. Here's what I found:

Initiated as early as 1940, a number of Nazi agencies became responsible for the selection of children in occupied countries whom they thought could be 'Germanized' by placing them in German homes. These children were simply kidnapped from their homes or torn from the arms of their mothers on the street, their only crime being that they had fair hair, blue eyes, or they just 'looked Aryan'. Reception centers for selection and racial testing of these children were set up at POZNAN, PUSHKAU, BROCKAU, and KALISZ in Poland, and in the Lebensborn home at BAD POLZIN. In Poland, over 200,000 children were kidnapped by the SS and the NSV (the female counterpart of the SS, known as the Brown Sisters). Between 40 and 50 thousand children were kidnapped in Russia, and in the Hungarian Ukraine, another 50,000 were kidnapped. Children under six years of age were adopted out to German families who were told that their parents were killed in air raids. Children from seven to twelve were placed in special institutions such as State Boarding Schools, Reich Schools, in Napolas Schools (Nazi Political Schools) or put in the B.D.M. (League of German Girls). Children who failed to pass the selection tests were simply put on trains leaving for Auschwitz, to disappear without trace. After the war, the International Refugee Organization, searched for these children who were put up for adoption. Only between 15 and 20 per cent were traced.

Indeed, many of these children have seen it all before.

-- Arnie Rimmer (, February 02, 1999.

Thanks again, Arnie. You brought tears. I don't know much about the political history of that era because I was TTF. Trying To Forget. You would think that the end of WWII would have ended my troubles. But no, it was only the beginning of my TEOTWAWKI training.


" We had lived under siege in our one-room prison for about eleven or twelve months after the judge, the almighty, had commanded our eviction from our home because we were guilty. He did not tell us what we were guilty of, so we must have been innocent. Our father committed the crimes and we were guilty. He was guilty and we were punished. When you dont feed your children, you are innocent and the children are guilty. Had I thought about this at all I would have been confused as to who was what. Now I know. Rapists and murderers get five to twenty but Ma, Little Brother and I were sentenced to suffer for life. Life. Could the judge at least lock a little steel condom on our father so he would not make any more babies that would be guilty?

Now it was the day before Christmas. Shortly after noon, Little Brother and I came home from the train in the rain, looking forward to our vacation. Our enormous pressure to study was off.

"Do you think we'll get any presents?" Little Brother asked me almost cynically on our way home.

Dont know. I never said much.

We had always received something for Christmas in the past, no matter how small. This was the first year that we did not have a Christmas tree, with tinsel and real candles with fire. We even had them in Simonswolde. Even though Ma and Aunt Adele had been devout atheists, they had never sworn or called for the devil. But now we had Teufi. (our second mother)

When we arrived at our mansion, we found not a Christmas tree, but piles of clutter in our front yard. Everything from our prison was out there in the rain.

We did receive one present, but it was from the devil. She scattered the sum total of our lives like dog turds out on the precisely manicured lawn.

We tiptoed around our belongings to study the arrangement and went to the window entrance of our cell. It was locked. Always keep your doors locked for someone will rob you. Little brother and I never had keys so we tried to open other windows and doors. They were all locked. Our courageous father, and his devil, had left the scene and could not face us: His sons, his enemies, ten and twelve years old. I stuttered when I told Little Brother that our father had thrown us out, just in case he hadnt figured this out. It was better to bawl now, in the rain, than later when people would notice. Theyd think we were weird and we did not want to be weird. We wanted to be proper. Ma was nowhere to be found.

We sat down in the shimmering wet decor, the devils decoration, and waited. There was no place to go. While we were waiting for another miracle, we might as well be actors in this crhche scene, my little brother and I.

We did not speak. Why should we speak? Nobody ever listened to us. The lawyers and judges were too high; they could not be reached. Did they even live on this earth? We were abandoned and did not know what would happen to us next. You never knew because miracles could happen, especially on Christmas. Thats why we celebrate Christmas.

While we were getting soaked in the evening light, a few people walked by and did not see us. Or pretended not to see us. They knew that we wanted to be proper and did not embarrass us by admiring our scene. We were only part of the display. None of them offered us help, nor did we expect any, for no one had ever done so. Incredibly, no one called the authorities to find missing children. No one yelled for missing parents. It was holy time to give presents and we had no beer to offer to a policeman.

Thirty-five years later, I would learn a few details of this episode in a letter from Ma. At the time I received it, I quickly read it and promptly forgot it, as always. I never thought about it. But I saved it, as always. Even though the divorce court had ordered our eviction months before, Ma had refused to move out. She wrote me that she yelled at the judge in the courtroom when he had issued our eviction:

"We need a shelter for two abandoned boys. There is central heating in the double garage and a water faucet. Now the products of Ford are stored there.

This is what she wrote she said, our poor mother. Now that I am no longer as dumb as my teacher Lindeman told me I was, I would tell the judge something else. I would show him something as well; I would show him hell. "

-- TTF (, February 02, 1999.

Hey, TTF, have you seen "Saving Private Ryan"? Just curious....

-- King of Spain (, February 02, 1999.

TTF: you need to compile your stories and sell or give them away. Even if your're a troll, they make great reading.

Also, why did the Nazi's rot out your ear and how did they accomplish this?

-- a (a@a.a), February 02, 1999.

King of Spain, This is why I won't:

" My mayhem ghost caused me to develop abnormally in that I avoid watching war movies. I find exploding humans and screaming sirens deeply saddening, instead of uplifting and fulfilling like it seems to be for most people. They splatter guts inside their boob tubes and stare at them by the millions; they participate in such games on video. Do they want to create ghosts in their souls?

Hard as Ive tried, I have not always been able to avoid these ghosts. They would surface at unexpected times throughout my life.

For example, my wife and I would one day visit a theater to see Not Without My Daughter. I had not yet met my mayhem ghost and did not know that it existed. This movie was based on the true story about an American girl who married an Iranian boy. Nowadays the sexes of the partners have to be specified. In the good old days it always was easy to know this, one boy and one girl. But since we are now on a higher level of civilization, brought about by a higher level of technology, a marriage can be of any combination. And we can even be proud of any combination.

A recent creation of such a combination is the virtual marriage. One partner of the combination thinks the sex of his or her mate is such and such, but turns out later to be different from what he or she thought he or she had married. When we become still more civilized in a few years, a marriage might even include other species, such as a Holstein bull hitched to a normal boy or an abnormal normal girl or any combination not yet recognized. I only refer to a Holstein bull because later in life one such tried to hitch me. To a power pole.

Anyway, in the movie this couple moved to Iran a few years after their daughter was born. The daughter indicates that this was a marriage in the old sense of the word, as created by God, and was totally square...

...In this movie I did not expect to be instilled through my remaining ear with the terror of air raid sirens. This invited the mayhem ghost from my past. Nor did it occur to me up to this time that after so many years its screaming would still bother me. I had not benefited from it since my first war. The devil's howl caused an intense agony in my heart and soul. I wanted to cower under the seats but I was stuck in the middle of the crowded theater.

I also wanted to find out how enjoyable this sensation could get and try to slay this ghost. I had to convince myself that it was only a ghost and that I had nothing to fear. I had to be certain that it was not the devil, but only a distant memory of him.

Upon leaving the theater, I burst out sobbing uncontrollably. A fist gripped my heart. I wanted to rip it out myself so it would not hurt anymore. Squirting tears, gasping for air, I tried to explain to my worried wife that I was all right.

"Im OK, sob, FlowerBear, sob, Im just entertaining these people. Baahhhh. In case they found the movie boring. Baaahhhhhh."

That is what I would have told her, my FlowerBear, had my jokingbraincells not been shunted by this episode.

Someday, with my tax money, my government will protect me with: "Caution, the devil's wail may rip your soul. It will destroy your heart".

It will protect me, since I am not normal and victims give bureaucrats a purpose for their existence. To protect victims from other victims, and then again from bureaucrats.

-- TTF (, February 02, 1999.

Arnie, where did you find that info about the NSV? Can I still sue those bastards?

-- TTF (, February 02, 1999.

Also, why did the Nazi's rot out your ear and how did they accomplish this?

" In desperation she took us to the NSV, a Nazi organization, where we were taken in, to be taken as well. Its kindergarten was furthest from the aluminum and dynamite factories, and Ma reasoned that since the war was rumbling closer, we could become targets for the liberating bombers.

In this kindergarten I became hot, raspberry red and began to cook again. So Ma kept me home from this toddlers warehouse, much to the chagrin of Mr. Doebele. No one realized yet that I was decaying like him. In sympathy, Pa, with awe-inspiring self-restraint, did not dally in a whorehouse.

Ma wrote me: ' ...Old Dr. Bork was in charge of the kindergarten. I asked him every day, for eight days, to examine you. Every day he said the same thing, tomorrow you could return to the kindergarten. Every day I told him that this was false. You had Nesselsucht and kept clutching your ear. I asked him to sign you over to the hospital, which he finally did eight days later.'

And eight weeks too late.

Ma could not muster someone with a car until late in the evening to drive us to the hospital in Loerrach. Like the condoms, the Fuehrer also confiscated private vehicles to help enlarge his Reich. At the junction of two highways a Nazi soldier stopped us. Fear and paranoia permeated the fatherland; blood covered the street, Dr. Wehrle's blood. He had passed through this checkpoint several times that day. Each time he presented his identification card. But the last time through, he sped past a new guard on duty to help with the birth of another cannonball baby. Dutifully protecting his fatherland, this Nazi guard shot him.

The unmentionable odour of death Offends the September night.

Now this same guard would not let us pass. But Ma insisted that I was very ill. He searched our car, babies must be checked, could be enemy agents. Ma became hysterical and showed him her fiery offspring. This convinced the astute sentry that I indeed was ill and so he let us continue. She delivered me to the hospital and spent a sleepless night waiting.

I continued to pull my right ear but it did not come off.

The next morning, Dr. Heineman informed Ma that there was decay, that's rot, near my brain. Since the rot was separated from my brain by eggshell-thin bone, he had to operate immediately or in a day or two I would be dead. Hallelujah! Had I foreseen the next two dozen years, I would have insisted on that option and even sued for it.

Ma wanted to take me to the hospital in Freiburg because of its reputation. But Dr. Heineman had to carve on me immediately. He did so and removed the goo and everything that was beyond repair: hammer, anvil, stirrup, eardrum and part of my skull, leaving a shrivelly hole, somewhat shielded behind a customized ear. To scoop and sculpt me, the doctor used real tools like a hammer, saw, knife, needle and pliers. And he didnt even crack my eggshell, so I still could be an egghead.

I was too young to realize that I was now customized, and not just a run-of-the mill production like other people.

Will have to get a design patent for Generation Y. Sunglasses with meat hooks and claws that dig into bloody holes. Kiddies could be cool.

Now that I was customized, I was at risk, because the Nazis, perfect socialists, sooner or later destroyed imperfect bodies and imperfect minds. And perfect bodies and perfect minds if they disagreed with Nazi doctrines.

-- TTF (, February 02, 1999.

I am still waiting for you to tell me what the current head hole cleaning procedure is, and why it is that you are unable to grasp how to do the same for yourself.

-- Uncle Deedah (, February 02, 1999.

Dear Uncle Deedah,

The outer ear canal is very narrow because of scar tissue. Inside is a bat cave with a that bone ridge.

Surgeon wanted to enlarge tunnel and remove ridge for better access. He explained the risks. Two hours under the knife. Could damage facial muscle, etc.

After previous surgeries I had amnesia because of reaction to drugs, aenesthesia, whatever. No fun when you don't know if you're supposed to pee into the grand piano and yodel, or drink from the toilet.

Now, what would you do?

-- TTF (, February 02, 1999.

Pee into the grand piano and yodel.

-- Uncle Deedah (, February 02, 1999.

Just kidding,

I would ask a bunch of doom and gloomers on the net what to do.

-- Uncle Deedah (, February 02, 1999.

TTF: The excerpt I posted came from an Australian site called "Lesser Known Facts Of WW II" compiled by George R. Duncan. You can find it at:

-- Arnie Rimmer (, February 03, 1999.

The "...medical device used to remove ear wax..." is called an ear syringe. These days you can find them in the discount stores (WalMart, etc.), or in drug stores. They are all rubber, and work fine for ear wax removal. Follow the directions, or ask your doctor.


-- Casual Observer (who@goes.there), February 03, 1999.

TTF: Give me the BOOK man. I will web publish it and put it on a site for you free of charge. Your stories should be told. Let me know if'n you're interested.

-- a (a@a.a), February 03, 1999.


thanks your interest in my memoir. There are not many things in my life that I would rather do than publish it after I finish polishing it. For two reasons:

Make lemonade out of tons of lemons dumped on me.

More importantly, it would be a great inspiration for everyone because I've spent years in TEOTWAWKI. And without losing my marbles. It would help put the readers' problems into a better perspective.

Don't take my word for it. A stranger on this forum has read "Bastards, Bitches, and Heroes" and has emailed me several reviews. This person is presently not home but I will ask for permission to post them when he or she returns.

Few people have come from so low to so high, on their own, in spite of great adversities. For years, every time this gopher stuck his head out of the ground somebody tried to blow off. And too many times literally. Including dear daddy.

I don't know how I can get my foot in the dooor of the publishing industry. Haven't had much time to pursue this. Any thoughts, anyone?

-- TTF (, February 03, 1999.

A firm knock and pointy shoes.

-- Uncle Deedah (, February 03, 1999.

Moderation questions? read the FAQ