They used to be firm
and perky, but now they are droopy like the cartoon dog by the same name.
They look like two
bungee jumpers who went down but never came back up. They look like two limp
bodies hanging from a noose. They look like the knuckles of a gorilla as he
walks erect. God did the yo-yo trick “walking the dog”
with them, but never called them back home. Basically they are sagging like a full diaper.
The dreaded sag and I’m
not talking about boobs or pants here people! I’m talking about balls, and I
don’t mean the kind you bounce (ouch). Sorry
for being so crass but there’s no nice way to put it, my boys are swinging low
like the pendulum on a clock. Go to take your underwear off and get your nut
sack twisted up in them. Don't act like I'm the only one. The
"downside" to getting “up” there in age.
As a result of this
said “saggage” I almost did the unthinkable. I just about slammed my balls in
the toilet seat when I was going to sit down to handle my business! Thankfully,
I noticed before it was too late and was able to stop myself. I was sitting
there in mid-squat, clutching onto the walls and sweating like I just ran a marathon.
The whole time I was praying not to slip. I kind of looked like Keanu Reeves in
the Matrix dodging bullets.
Thankfully I was able
to pull myself up and avoid what would have been a really painful experience,
to put it nicely it would have been my rendition of the Nutcracker but with no
music and applause, just tears and screams.
I've heard rumors and
horror stories about people doing this but I never thought it was true. I always
just thought it was an urban legend or one of those disturbing sex fantasies like
the people who like to be choked, but now I know it’s real…damn real. I'm
scared to sit on the toilet anymore. I do my best to always inspect the area
carefully before hand, even going as far as to tape the boys up or just throw
them over my shoulder to avoid any dangling obstacles in my path to the potty.
There will be no casualties on my watch!
This experience has
made me more aware of where things are, and now I do my best to make sure all
appendages are inside the car at all times while it is moving. I don’t leave
anything up to chance and/or luck anymore. I don’t need to learn things the
hard way to make the changes necessary to make my life a lot less painful and
heartbreaking.
This is why I now
only wear tighty whities (the male version of the push-up bra), because with
boxer shorts you run the risk of things hanging out the leg hole and banging
into other body parts, potentially racking one's self. On the rare occasion
when I have no other choice but to wear boxer shorts, like when all my other
draws are full of bacon bits, I make sure my junk is rolled up nice and tight like
a toothpaste tube that is almost out of paste.
My girlfriend thinks
I should get surgery to fix the problem, something like a breast lift but for
balls, but just the thought of any sharp pointy objects by that area leave me all
queasy and lightheaded, so that’s a no go. It’s hard being a man; you women
have it easy and have no idea of the pain we men have to endure as a result of
things sagging as we get older. Forget the prostate; keep an eye on those balls
people. In the famous words of the great poet Jay Z, ”It’s a hard sack life”…of
course I’m paraphrasing.
MJM