Ectopia

I want to use this word today: ec⋅to⋅pi⋅a /ek’toʊpiə/
noun
abnormal position of a part or organ (especially at the time of birth)
Due to ectopia I ended up with a testicular cornucopia and had one of my balls attached to my earlobe at birth. It was nothing a couple of surgeries couldn’t fix but the residual effects still linger and I sometimes feel my earlobe needs a jockstrap.

Now it’s your turn to use ectopia.
I play The Belly Up tonight in Solana Beach at 9pm. The Mother Hips go on after me at 10:30. I love them.

I’m waiting for your ectopia entries.

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3 Responses to Ectopia

  1. Bob Mcloughlin says:

    I have some degree of sympathy with your Ectopia Steve, but it has clearly not held you back, having seen you on numerous occasions with the audience eating out of your hands. I however was born in ’59 with webbed fingers on both hands. Whilst it helped me to become a very good swimmer, the flipside meant I was always very nervous around girls and have never been able to fully embrace foreplay. Nobody has ever eaten out of my hands nor is likely to in the future. So I envy you your Ectopia, which has given you a unique ear for music that is so finely in tune with the love and lust that spring from your balls, and which has given your fans beautiful ballads to enjoy, from Everything About You and Trash, to Monkeys coming out of your Ass. In short, you are one lucky guy, with your Ectopia and web free fingers that mock me, and we can’t wait to see you in the UK again next year.

  2. Impala Bruce says:

    I’ve never spoken…nay written…about this until now, but my secret ectopia resulted in a second penis attached to the tip of my nose. As a result, I had a reversal Pinocchio effect, where my nose penis grew erect at the mere sniff of a lie. It was horrible, especially since I was the eldest of three brothers, each of them liars of the highest order. They took after my mother and uncle on my dad’s side, of course. I know now that this familial trait is not uncommon, but as a child I was tormented and ridiculed for being so prescient. Anyway, after many awkward Sundays at mass at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church in downtown Penis…sorry, Phoenix…a ritual of sorts was performed and my unsightly appendage was removed and handed over to the parish. If only I had known that an 8″ nose cock could later prove so useful. What’s an eight-year-old to do? Today, I’m happy to report, I live a rather unassuming life as a Bank Dick with a nose for prospective deviant behavior. I also identify with the Gene Wilder character toward the end of “Young Frankenstein”, but that’s a topic for another lengthy (hint, hint) conversation…

  3. beavis says:

    ectopic intrarectalcranialitis

    born with your head up your ass. heh heh. ass. heh heh.

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