Wanna swap necks? I haven't got much more than that to say, just that there's nothing exciting going on at this end and I thought I'd spice up my life a little either with casual alcoholism or a new neck. Reasons for not going the casual alcoholism route: I don't look casual, more whimsical; it doesn't suit the image I'm pretending to maintain. Wanna swap necks? There's nothing really wrong with my neck, although in order to maintain that honest, groovy facet to my character, I wanna go the full disclosure route: I was in a pathetic and girly shunt from behind in a car once and my neck was all skanked up with whiplash. It was sore, it hurt, awww poor me, give me sympathy (no-one else did) and a new pair of socks. There's nothing shoddy posture and bad diet won't fix and now it's 100% almost all better, with only a minor clicking available if I - or you if you choose to take up this twice in a lifetime offer - go rooting around, playing the angles.
And neck-swapping is? Swapping necks. Jeez, you're not too bright. Were you dropped on your head as a baby, picked up, comforted, stabbed through the forehead with a fork then dropped on your head again to jam it in deeper? No? Explain the tine marks then. Ah haaaa, Logic King 1, Forkheaded Retard Who Doesn't Know What Neck Swapping Is 0. [Pause to revel in my greatosity]. [Pause to change greatosity to greatness, and thank Lady Dictionary for her soothing dulcet tones]. To get back on track like a tracky track thing, wanna swap necks? You have my neck, I have yours. We can swap for a week, a month, or even poimanent loike. Timescale doesn't really bother me, I just want a change to stir the pot a little and get stuff happenin like once it did, in a time when Gs didn't exist, unless they were in a non-'ing' situation. (To clarify, words like gonad would be allowed, but gonading would become gonadin. Hope that explains everything you need to know about that. In the event it doesn't, please submit all complaints in triplicate to my lawyers, who will hunt you down and kill you like dog-killers killing dogs).
It's a fluctuatingly painful/painless operation, so I'm led to believe. At first it hurts a little, what with your head being chopped off, but after that you feel nothing as there are no nerves running to the brain. Instead there are just tiny electrical impulses with nowhere to go; they get to the spurting blood and start sparking. It's this reason why you never see doctors wearing any footwear other than wellies. ...Which reminds me, I'm also going to need someone to do the operation. I would do it, but I'm gonna be decapitated for some of the time, and studies have shown that nine out of ten decapitated surgeons don't have, ahem, their mind on the job. And if you'll allow me to jump back to before when I jumped to the side to get a doctor, or a reasonable facsimile thereof, the pain once your head and body are attached to your new neck is almost unnoticeable as it takes a while before all the nerve endings somehow join together and you can feel pain again. Apparently.
Another aside (you'd think I hadn't thought this all through, wouldn't you?): you might wanna do a little background reading on phantom limbs. Perhaps try your local library or bookshop for books on this sort of thing. Failing that anywhere that has a large collection of books on a wide variety of subjects may be able to serve your inquisitive mind. If none of that works try searching the internet, but make sure you skim past all the phantom limb porn, cos that's just sick. Apparently. I only looked at it once, and it did nothing for me. Maybe you dig it; far be it from me to shit on your freaky sexual urges. But like someone writing junk when he can't think of anything to say, I digress.
We find a doctor, he or she cuts out our necks, we bleed a bit, we swap necks, we get sewn up - insisting the 'doctor' reads the appendix in my Official Britney Spears Bumper Book Of Neck Surgery with all the pesky microsurgery stuff so he or she knows how to join all the veins, nerves, spine and all that other gunk that makes us the fine upstanding human beings we pretend to be. (, Have a comma). The risk of death is - in keeping with that full and honest disclosure thang - quite high, what with this being highly experimental, and somewhat immoral, illegal, unethical, dangerous, foolish, immature, [synonym for destined for failure] surgery. This risk can be lessened if we take the necessary precautions. Not quite sure what they are cos the computer just crashed losing everything after the last instance of 'surgery', but there was something about if I had my way I'd be Frank Sinatra. I suppose that's it then.