Right, call me obsessive, but this is starting to freak me out...
You've seen the size of the container, and it's NOT good.
How do I actually go about filling this bloody thing, or more to the point, getting anything actually 'into' it.
As most women can testify (pun intended), the need to grab the nearest tissue, or towel, or curtain, or family pet, to clean up these messes is enough to prove that directing this stuff is not an exact science.
Trying to hit a target no bigger than a 50 euro cent coin is going to be a challenge, to say the very bloody least.
Someone mentioned a funnel - OK, I could live with that, but then you've got the issue of contamination.
The last thing I want to have to do is put the results into an online 'Dutch to English' translator only to discover that the lab thinks I'm loaded with fatal amounts of motor oil or some such.
Before I know it, I'd be spreadeagled on some laboratory table being poked and prodded for tests and hailed as a walking talking tin-man.
It's been suggested to boil the funnel before hand.
That's a non-starter, I'm not putting any of my bits near any object that's been recently boiled. That's a guaranteed Mr Floppy moment.
I was thinking myself more along the lines of duct-tape, but the possibilties for disaster, along with physical and mental life long scarring to occur are far too great.
Then there's the issue of, how should I put this, 'performance'.
Let's not kid ourselves, these things rule themselves, the 'appendage' is the James Dean of the human male anatomy.
It does what it feels like, when it feels like it, where it feels like it.
This is usually not an issue as it usually does, indeed, feel like it.
It does NOT have an appointment book, and certainly doesn't appreciate deadlines.
Which is more than ironic, seeing as it can usually guarantee a speedy delivery better than UPS.
Even if it did, mine certainly does not take kindly to an 8am, Febuary 27th deadline.
To make matters worse, ET has taken to displaying the lab form and container in a glass cabinet in our living room, like some kind of heirloom, or speech & drama prize you win when you're 11.
I wonder how quick will she remove it when someone comes to visit....