You’re nuts… I mean your nuts.

I was reminiscing with Headboy the other day. We had just gotten over a pretty heated argument over why I was willing to search “goat rape” via the google on my computer at work, but wasn’t willing to search the phrase “I will touch your penis.” Either way, the subject of conversation swiftly took a turn for the worse as we addressed matters of Headboy’s nut sack. Putting his hairy balls on display for everyone to see comes as natural to Headboy as breathing. Alright maybe not breathing, but farting definitely. Not uncommon is the “punch in…bunch out.” In other words, as soon as Headboy clocks in at work the gloves are off and his sack is out. This is no simple game of “Hey everyone! Check out my yam-bag!” No No No. This is strategy and fortitude. Being willing to endure what your opponent won’t, even if it means positioning yourself spread eagle 25’ in the air on a forklift with nothing between you and the floor besides your swinging apple-bag. He’s smart about it too, only pulling one ball out at a time, so you have to look for a minute and say to yourself, “wait, what’s that?” And then out loud you exclaim, “Awe damn!” I know exactly what you’re thinking. “Catching a glimpse of another man’s nads? Sounds like heaven.” The truth of the matter is, looking at a man’s scrote from time to time is not going to kill you. In fact that’s hardly the case. You see there’s a certain desensitizing quality to the chode show. The next time you’re driving along in your car and you pass by a bum pissing into a pickle jar, you’ll be less likely to be distracted. Or how about that Asian guy in the locker room at the gym who’s always standing there naked blowing a hair dryer up his ass? Just maybe, maybe the sight of his wontons won’t ruin your day.


2 Responses to “You’re nuts… I mean your nuts.”

  1. 1 Strow August 10, 2007 at 14:24

    Since we’re strolling down memory lane…How about this one. I’ll just give the facts, you can fill in the blanks. Villanova’s Gym, Elevator and multiple Batwings.

  2. 2 Big Steel Toe August 22, 2007 at 07:00

    I do remeber a break time when Headboy’s sack had the captured audience of a truck driver gently slapping his sack against the windshield. That was until the truck driver remembered he had windsheild wipers. The rabbits heart did not beat as strong after that.

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