Lamb of God vocalist Randy Blythe is a phenomenal storyteller. Anyone who follows the musician on Instagram knows that when Blythe decides to pen a tale, it's always worth reading. That being said, one of Randy's recent stories involves an unfortunate incident involving hot coffee, his privates and a lot of pain.

In an Instagram post that could have been titled 'As the Phalluses Burn,' Randy Blythe details the most terrifying consequence of needing your caffeine boost. Having made a crucial mistake in keeping his hot coffee between his legs while driving, Blythe suffered a brutal ordeal of pain on his privates.

Randy posted the full story on his Instagram page:

WARNING: THE FOLLOWING POST IS OF A GRAPHIC PERSONAL NATURE & CONTAINS A TALE OF ABJECT MISERY. I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY I'M POSTING THIS. I MUST BE HIGH FROM PAIN STILL. There are moments of extreme physical pain in some of our lives that we will never, ever, forget. Tonight I had one of those moments (this picture I took of my friends Jimmy & Mike of EYEHATEGOD has NOTHING to do with this story, but I needed a photo & they do have a record called "Take As Needed For Pain"). The sun was setting & it was beautiful evening as I road along the coast to the grocery store, still in my surf trunks & sipping on a fresh mug of boiling hot black coffee. I was listening to some mellow piano music & making a right turn when I made the tragic mistake placing the mug between my barely covered legs. As I turned my truck, happily humming along to the mellow piano music on my stereo, suddenly there was a searing white hot explosion of agony in my crotch. The lid of my mug had come loose, and liquid caffeinated FIRE had covered my, well...it had covered my penis. I briefly lost control of my truck, swerving into the lane of oncoming traffic, barely missing another truck, before quickly pulling into a nearby parking lot to try & make some sense of this atrocity I had committed against myself. I felt like I was going to throw up for a good minute or two, then I regained control & started returning home to do what I knew what I had to do. I had to put him on ice. I do not normally talk to my penis, he does not have a nickname or anything like that, but if there ever was a time for encouraging words to my lifelong companion, it was now. The words I said out loud to him as I painfully drove us slowly home went along these lines: OH GOD, DUDE. OH MY GOD, THAT HURT LIKE HOLY F---. HANG IN THERE DUDE. OH GOD, HANG IN THERE. WE'RE GONNA MAKE IT. DON'T GIVE UP HOPE. OH MY GOD, DUDE. OH GOD, HANG IN THERE, BRO. I must have looked like a crazy man. When I hit home, he went in a glass of ice water for a bit. He will recover, I have faith. Go ahead & laugh- everyone else I've told did, including my wife. This day is now a wash. Goodnight.

Feel better, Randy! And to everyone reading his story while drinking coffee, be safe!