Neck

From Uncyclopedia, the content-free encyclopedia
Jump to navigation Jump to search
What I'd like to do to my wife's neck

The neck is a part of the body on most mammals and other creatures that attaches the head to the body. It contains a portion of the spine and digestive system, as well as several important arteries and veins and stuff that are part of the respiratory system. The neck was first discovered in 1812 by renowned physicist Justus McCreedy. In his thesis paper titled "Da Mutha Fuckin' Neck" he explains that the primary function of this part of the body is essentially an on-off switch – breaking the neck like a glowstick immediately snuffs out the life of anyone who disagrees with you. (His research also details how knives and icepicks and even a piece of string can be used on a neck to great effect.)

Bony anatomy[edit | edit source]

The portion of the spine contained in the neck is typically seven bony segments (called vertebrae) long, with cartilage discs that separate each of the vertebrae. The first segment, labelled C1, is called the atlas and supports the head. This construction allows for some support while still maintaining mobility, which unfortunately means that when you sleep on the couch or the floor (which do not provide additional support) your neck will start to kill you. Unlike other parts of the body, the neck is a total bastard when it comes to being stiff, and you typically need to rest comfortably for several days to get the kinks out of the damn thing, which isn't really an option when the reason it started hurting in the first place is because your wife took your bed to go fuck an English guy, now is it?

Arteries of the neck
Veins of the neck

Soft tissue anatomy[edit | edit source]

Then neck is made up of large portions of soft cartilage and several jugular veins that are the most important supply of blood to the face and brain. There are also large sections of muscle for orientation control, just like the large section of muscle that my wife apparently couldn't resist and just had to ride about twelve times in our bedroom while our kids were trying to take a nap and let me tell you there's no good way to explain to them why that angry man is making mommy grunt like a seal. Seals also have necks. They also have a sense of dignity, not that I would know what that feels like after I found out that my fucking wife of twelve years would trade me up for a set of terrible teeth with a cock attached. The neck contains the esophagus, which is the primary passage to both the stomach (for digestion) and the lungs (for respiration), although my fucking wife had a little bit of trouble with that last one when she asked lord Fauntleroy to get all rough on her with a belt. The most exotic>!--ex oh TICK--> thing she did with me in bed was read fucking Cosmo. Unfortunately, since the neck is both high in oxygenated blood and contains soft tissue, it bruises easily, just like my wife's after her "little tea party" with Lord Cummerbund.

Digestive systems[edit | edit source]

Seriously, what the fuck is up with necks in the first place? You'd think that being the dominant species on this interstellar hunk of rock would mean that we'd get some cool claws or fangs or some shit like that. But no, just to spite the entire process of natural selection, we evolve the fucking neck. Let me give you a run down on just how retarded this is: you have the head, which contains all the primary sensory organs (which are just a little important) and your brain (which is VERY fucking important). Then, you have your body, which, I don't know, contains your lungs, and your intestines, and (unless you're my fucking wife) your heart, which also might be considered kind of important. And what brilliant marvel of natural engineering to you have to connect these two important life systems? The fucking neck. All the important nervous and respiratory transport between the most major organs of the body travels through the neck, which is protected by a layer of skin with the consistency of a thick sock. Pretty good work there, right? Surely the fittest that should survive and dominate the planet should have an easily exploitable weakness that makes the exhaust shaft on the Death Star look like a perfectly logical architectural solution. I mean, all the air that we breathe has to come down through SOMEWHERE, right? So why not a seemingly intentionally fragile shaft that makes my fucking wife's King Chumley's flaccid wang look like the Washington monument? Fucking necks.

An armored dildo

Respiratory systems[edit | edit source]

I mean, that's as good an argument as any for Intelligent Design, because the only way I think we could've survived for thousands of years as a species (besides having the females fuck anything that moves) with such an anatomical liability is if someone plopped us down this way. But then again, if that were the case, where's my fucking armor plating or my spines and shit that protect my neck? Fucking armadillos have armor plating, and here I am, apparently God's greatest and most beloved creation, and what do I get? An oversized stuffed manicotti where my armor plating should be, which if cut open doesn't shoot out my [fucking] wife's delicious meat sauce, it shoots out all the fucking fluids that make my body work. Yeah, thanks a lot, that's real fucking swell. What kind of "just and loving" god does that? No kind, that's what, and – unless the Father of all Creation is mentally deficient – then let me tell you your own fucking neck should be all the proof you need for the non-existence of God. It would be enough for me, too, if my wife didn't just fucking leave me for a guy who doesn't know what an elevator is and drives on the wrong side of the fucking street.

Neck pain[edit | edit source]

Yeah, that's right, my wife gets to piss off to the land of tea and Hugh fuckin' Grant while I get stuck with a flaw of mammalian design that has a predilection for whiplash, strep throat, and cancer because of all the cigarettes I've been smoking to keep awake so I don't fucking have to lie down on it anymore. There's a reason that fucking hanging is the most popular form of suicide.

Which gives me a spectacular fucking idea.

See also[edit | edit source]