There are things that women go through that men absolutely have no idea about, and vice versa. This is, I’m pretty sure, in a large part due to the fact that if we all knew everything about each other, we’d be so revolted that the species as a whole would quickly drop off. My ex girlfriend told me that when a woman is giving birth that it’s quite common for them (doctors, hopefully) to slice her, beav to asshole, to get the baby out. Apparently women know this, but let me tell you, men don’t. There’s a good reason for this. Women really need to be prepared for something that fucking horrifying and should probably begin preparing as soon as they can locate their pussies and assholes on a map, while men are probably better off just being surprised at the last possible second. Finding this information out shocked me, to be sure, and of course, since I’ve recently had a child, I got the full skinny on the ass to beav slicing…It’s not really encouraged any more, they prefer natural tearing (jesus fucking Christ…that doesn’t exactly sound pleasant either) but it’s called an episiotomy, and it apparently (and unsurprisingly) makes shitting quite difficult. Now, my baby was born with none of these unfortunate and painful sounding situations, so in theory, I could still be blissfully unaware of tearing, incontinence, episiotomies and so forth. BUT, I do know, and now you all know too.
Ladies, here’s what happens to men—Our balls stick to our legs. About a billion times a day our balls glom onto our inner thighs like a wacky wall walker (that’s for those of you who were kids in the early 80’s…for those of you who are younger, a wacky wall walker is this spider like toy that you throw at a wall that then sticks to the wall much in the same way that the human ballsack clings to the human thigh). About fifty percent of our time that’s spent with our hands down our pants is spent detaching our balls from our thighs. It’s no episiotomy, sure, but ladies, did you know about that? Did you? Huh…I guess some people call this “bat wings” because it makes your balls look like a bat or something, but I think that’s childish, and besides, bat wings is what you get when you fuck a woman who’s just had a dump deposited in her vagina (which is done by a process known as ‘space docking’ due to the difficulty of lining up the orifices). “Dude, I totally got my batwings from the lunch lady last night after Fernando and her space docked in the walk in cooler!” is a nice way to use this in a sentence, but alas, I’m off topic.
So, last night, I’m in bed and my balls are stuck to my leg and I’m doing my best to convince my wife to dislodge them for me, because, well, everyone knows what dislodging a sweaty ballsack can lead to, right? So I’m using my sexiest moves, saying things like “hey, my balls are stuck to my leg. Little help?” And finally, she caves, just for the dislodging, mind you. How she could have resisted me at that point is a topic for another day. Anyway, immediately after, she rolls over, and with a tone that could only be accurately described as mildly grossed out, she says “you’re lucky you have me.” This is true, but I don’t want her knowing that I know that, so I say “why?” and she says, get this! That there’s no one else out there who would dislodge my ‘gross’ sack from my thigh. HA!
I told her that there are literally thousands of men and women out there who are just dying for a chance to unstick, or peel my balls off my thigh, and she just rolled her eyes at me. So, I told her I was going to open it to the public.
SO, here’s the deal: Essay contest (open to residents of north America, Europe, Africa, asia and south America (no islanders, sorry) why you’d like to help me dislodge my stuck balls. It can be as long or as short as you want it to be (the essay, smartguy) and it’s open to anyone, males and females and trannies over the age of 18, because it would just be creepy otherwise. The winner gets a bad sandwich teeshirt if I ever end up making those, the satisfaction of vanquishing a ton of foes and maybe a beer or something. Unfortunately, actually unsticking my ballsack is a reward that is reserved just for me and my wife and when I’m on tour, our roadie, so there can be none of that, but maybe we can work out a simulation with a wacky wall walker and a sigh of satisfaction from me.
Just post em in the comments. Hmmm….You know what? I think this is the best entry ever.
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44 comments:
i can't think of a good reason to want to do that really. i think your wife is probably right.
maybe if i was at a show of yours and you were like "if nobody unsticks my nuts from leg this instant show's over" and nobody came forward i'd probably do it.
I would unstick them with my mouth because I always wanted to know what Ben Weasel's taint tasted like.
Wow, I was eating my breakfast as I started this and almost quit (the breakfast, not the reading), but luckily, you spent the remainder of the entry talking about your enticing ballsack rather than a poor women having to go through the remainder of her life with a less than mint conditioned taint - which makes me sadder than endangered panda cubs. Anyway, your ballsack. Well, I, personally, have little to no interest - well, actually, I'm a little curious - to pull a man's ballsack from his leg. You see, the ballsack feels good to have removed, but I don't think the handling feels good - it also may confuse my sexuality. And speaking of contests, I remember winning a Red Scare contest on the Sound Scene Revolution podcast like a year or 2 ago and they sent me an email which said "you've one" and I thought I won and then they admitted Toby is lazy, but they'd send me something, but then they didn't. I'm still not sure if I even officially won since it was spelled wrong.
End essay, even the stuff not about dislodging your ballsack was part of the essay.
Why I Would Like to Unstick Brendan Kelly's Balls
When King Pyrrhus invaded Italy, having viewed and considered the order of the army the Romans sent out to meet him; "I know not," said he, "what kind of barbarians" (for so the Greeks called all other nations) "these may be; but the disposition of this army that I see has nothing of barbarism in it."--[Plutarch, Life of Pyrrhus, c. 8.]--As much said the Greeks of that which Flaminius brought into their country; and Philip, beholding from an eminence the order and distribution of the Roman camp formed in his kingdom by Publius Sulpicius Galba, spake to the same effect. By which it appears how cautious men ought to be of taking things upon trust from vulgar opinion, and that we are to judge by the eye of reason, and not from common report.
I long had a man in my house that lived ten or twelve years in the New World, discovered in these latter days, and in that part of it where Villegaignon landed,--[At Brazil, in 1557.]--which he called Antarctic France. This discovery of so vast a country seems to be of very great consideration. I cannot be sure, that hereafter there may not be another, so many wiser men than we having been deceived in this. I am afraid our eyes are bigger than our bellies, and that we have more curiosity than capacity; for we grasp at all, but catch nothing but wind.
Plato brings in Solon,--[In Timaeus.]--telling a story that he had heard from the priests of Sais in Egypt, that of old, and before the Deluge, there was a great island called Atlantis, situate directly at the mouth of the straits of Gibraltar, which contained more countries than both Africa and Asia put together; and that the kings of that country, who not only possessed that Isle, but extended their dominion so far into the continent that they had a country of Africa as far as Egypt, and extending in Europe to Tuscany, attempted to encroach even upon Asia, and to subjugate all the nations that border upon the Mediterranean Sea, as far as the Black Sea; and to that effect overran all Spain, the Gauls, and Italy, so far as to penetrate into Greece, where the Athenians stopped them: but that some time after, both the Athenians, and they and their island, were swallowed by the Flood.
It is very likely that this extreme irruption and inundation of water made wonderful changes and alterations in the habitations of the earth, as 'tis said that the sea then divided Sicily from Italy--
"Haec loca, vi quondam et vasta convulsa ruina,
Dissiluisse ferunt, quum protenus utraque tellus
Una foret"
["These lands, they say, formerly with violence and vast desolation
convulsed, burst asunder, where erewhile were."--AEneid, iii. 414.]
Cyprus from Syria, the isle of Negropont from the continent of Beeotia, and elsewhere united lands that were separate before, by filling up the channel betwixt them with sand and mud:
"Sterilisque diu palus, aptaque remis,
Vicinas urbes alit, et grave sentit aratrum."
["That which was once a sterile marsh, and bore vessels on its bosom, now feeds neighbouring cities, and admits the plough." --Horace, De Arte Poetica, v. 65.]
But there is no great appearance that this isle was this New World so lately discovered: for that almost touched upon Spain, and it were an incredible effect of an inundation, to have tumbled back so prodigious a mass, above twelve hundred leagues: besides that our modern navigators have already almost discovered it to be no island, but terra firma, and continent with the East Indies on the one side, and with the lands under the two poles on the other side; or, if it be separate from them, it is by so narrow a strait and channel, that it none the more deserves the name of an island for that.
It should seem, that in this great body, there are two sorts of motions, the one natural and the other febrific, as there are in ours. When I consider the impression that our river of Dordogne has made in my time on the right bank of its descent, and that in twenty years it has gained so much, and undermined the foundations of so many houses, I perceive it to be an extraordinary agitation: for had it always followed this course, or were hereafter to do it, the aspect of the world would be totally changed. But rivers alter their course, sometimes beating against the one side, and sometimes the other, and some times quietly keeping the channel. I do not speak of sudden inundations, the causes of which everybody understands. In Medoc, by the seashore, the Sieur d'Arsac, my brother, sees an estate he had there, buried under the sands which the sea vomits before it: where the tops of some houses are yet to be seen, and where his rents and domains are converted into pitiful barren pasturage. The inhabitants of this place affirm, that of late years the sea has driven so vehemently upon them, that they have lost above four leagues of land. These sands are her harbingers: and we now see great heaps of moving sand, that march half a league before her, and occupy the land.
The other testimony from antiquity, to which some would apply this discovery of the New World, is in Aristotle; at least, if that little book of Unheard of Miracles be his--[one of the spurious publications brought out under his name--D.W.]. He there tells us, that certain Carthaginians, having crossed the Atlantic Sea without the Straits of Gibraltar, and sailed a very long time, discovered at last a great and fruitful island, all covered over with wood, and watered with several broad and deep rivers, far remote from all terra firma; and that they, and others after them, allured by the goodness and fertility of the soil, went thither with their wives and children, and began to plant a colony. But the senate of Carthage perceiving their people by little and little to diminish, issued out an express prohibition, that none, upon pain of death, should transport themselves thither; and also drove out these new inhabitants; fearing, 'tis said, lest' in process of time they should so multiply as to supplant themselves and ruin their state. But this relation of Aristotle no more agrees with our new-found lands than the other.
This man that I had was a plain ignorant fellow, and therefore the more likely to tell truth: for your better-bred sort of men are much more curious in their observation, 'tis true, and discover a great deal more; but then they gloss upon it, and to give the greater weight to what they deliver, and allure your belief, they cannot forbear a little to alter the story; they never represent things to you simply as they are, but rather as they appeared to them, or as they would have them appear to you, and to gain the reputation of men of judgment, and the better to induce your faith, are willing to help out the business with something more than is really true, of their own invention. Now in this case, we should either have a man of irreproachable veracity, or so simple that he has not wherewithal to contrive, and to give a colour of truth to false relations, and who can have no ends in forging an untruth. Such a one was mine; and besides, he has at divers times brought to me several seamen and merchants who at the same time went the same voyage. I shall therefore content myself with his information, without inquiring what the cosmographers say to the business. We should have topographers to trace out to us the particular places where they have been; but for having had this advantage over us, to have seen the Holy Land, they would have the privilege, forsooth, to tell us stories of all the other parts of the world beside. I would have every one write what he knows, and as much as he knows, but no more; and that not in this only but in all other subjects; for such a person may have some particular knowledge and experience of the nature of such a river, or such a fountain, who, as to other things, knows no more than what everybody does, and yet to give a currency to his little pittance of learning, will undertake to write the whole body of physics: a vice from which great inconveniences derive their original.
Now, to return to my subject, I find that there is nothing barbarous and savage in this nation, by anything that I can gather, excepting, that every one gives the title of barbarism to everything that is not in use in his own country. As, indeed, we have no other level of truth and reason than the example and idea of the opinions and customs of the place wherein we live: there is always the perfect religion, there the perfect government, there the most exact and accomplished usage of all things. They are savages at the same rate that we say fruits are wild, which nature produces of herself and by her own ordinary progress; whereas, in truth, we ought rather to call those wild whose natures we have changed by our artifice and diverted from the common order. In those, the genuine, most useful, and natural virtues and properties are vigorous and sprightly, which we have helped to degenerate in these, by accommodating them to the pleasure of our own corrupted palate. And yet for all this, our taste confesses a flavour and delicacy excellent even to emulation of the best of ours, in several fruits wherein those countries abound without art or culture. Neither is it reasonable that art should gain the pre-eminence of our great and powerful mother nature. We have so surcharged her with the additional ornaments and graces we have added to the beauty and riches of her own works by our inventions, that we have almost smothered her; yet in other places, where she shines in her own purity and proper lustre, she marvellously baffles and disgraces all our vain and frivolous attempts:
"Et veniunt hederae sponte sua melius;
Surgit et in solis formosior arbutus antris;
Et volucres nulls dulcius arte canunt."
["The ivy grows best spontaneously, the arbutus best in shady caves; and the wild notes of birds are sweeter than art can teach. --"Propertius, i. 2, 10.]
Our utmost endeavours cannot arrive at so much as to imitate the nest of the least of birds, its contexture, beauty, and convenience: not so much as the web of a poor spider.
All things, says Plato,--[Laws, 10.]--are produced either by nature, by fortune, or by art; the greatest and most beautiful by the one or the other of the former, the least and the most imperfect by the last.
These nations then seem to me to be so far barbarous, as having received but very little form and fashion from art and human invention, and consequently to be not much remote from their original simplicity. The laws of nature, however, govern them still, not as yet much vitiated with any mixture of ours: but 'tis in such purity, that I am sometimes troubled we were not sooner acquainted with these people, and that they were not discovered in those better times, when there were men much more able to judge of them than we are. I am sorry that Lycurgus and Plato had no knowledge of them; for to my apprehension, what we now see in those nations, does not only surpass all the pictures with which the poets have adorned the golden age, and all their inventions in feigning a happy state of man, but, moreover, the fancy and even the wish and desire of philosophy itself; so native and so pure a simplicity, as we by experience see to be in them, could never enter into their imagination, nor could they ever believe that human society could have been maintained with so little artifice and human patchwork. I should tell Plato that it is a nation wherein there is no manner of traffic, no knowledge of letters, no science of numbers, no name of magistrate or political superiority; no use of service, riches or poverty, no contracts, no successions, no dividends, no properties, no employments, but those of leisure, no respect of kindred, but common, no clothing, no agriculture, no metal, no use of corn or wine; the very words that signify lying, treachery, dissimulation, avarice, envy, detraction, pardon, never heard of.
--[This is the famous passage which Shakespeare, through Florio's version, 1603, or ed. 1613, p. 102, has employed in the "Tempest," ii. 1.]
How much would he find his imaginary Republic short of his perfection?
"Viri a diis recentes."
["Men fresh from the gods."--Seneca, Ep., 90.]
"Hos natura modos primum dedit."
["These were the manners first taught by nature." --Virgil, Georgics, ii. 20.]
As to the rest, they live in a country very pleasant and temperate, so that, as my witnesses inform me, 'tis rare to hear of a sick person, and they moreover assure me, that they never saw any of the natives, either paralytic, bleareyed, toothless, or crooked with age. The situation of their country is along the sea-shore, enclosed on the other side towards the land, with great and high mountains, having about a hundred leagues in breadth between. They have great store of fish and flesh, that have no resemblance to those of ours: which they eat without any other cookery, than plain boiling, roasting, and broiling. The first that rode a horse thither, though in several other voyages he had contracted an acquaintance and familiarity with them, put them into so terrible a fright, with his centaur appearance, that they killed him with their arrows before they could come to discover who he was. Their buildings are very long, and of capacity to hold two or three hundred people, made of the barks of tall trees, reared with one end upon the ground, and leaning to and supporting one another at the top, like some of our barns, of which the covering hangs down to the very ground, and serves for the side walls. They have wood so hard, that they cut with it, and make their swords of it, and their grills of it to broil their meat. Their beds are of cotton, hung swinging from the roof, like our seamen's hammocks, every man his own, for the wives lie apart from their husbands. They rise with the sun, and so soon as they are up, eat for all day, for they have no more meals but that; they do not then drink, as Suidas reports of some other people of the East that never drank at their meals; but drink very often all day after, and sometimes to a rousing pitch. Their drink is made of a certain root, and is of the colour of our claret, and they never drink it but lukewarm. It will not keep above two or three days; it has a somewhat sharp, brisk taste, is nothing heady, but very comfortable to the stomach; laxative to strangers, but a very pleasant beverage to such as are accustomed to it. They make use, instead of bread, of a certain white compound, like coriander seeds; I have tasted of it; the taste is sweet and a little flat. The whole day is spent in dancing. Their young men go a-hunting after wild beasts with bows and arrows; one part of their women are employed in preparing their drink the while, which is their chief employment. One of their old men, in the morning before they fall to eating, preaches to the whole family, walking from the one end of the house to the other, and several times repeating the same sentence, till he has finished the round, for their houses are at least a hundred yards long. Valour towards their enemies and love towards their wives, are the two heads of his discourse, never failing in the close, to put them in mind, that 'tis their wives who provide them their drink warm and well seasoned. The fashion of their beds, ropes, swords, and of the wooden bracelets they tie about their wrists, when they go to fight, and of the great canes, bored hollow at one end, by the sound of which they keep the cadence of their dances, are to be seen in several places, and amongst others, at my house. They shave all over, and much more neatly than we, without other razor than one of wood or stone. They believe in the immortality of the soul, and that those who have merited well of the gods are lodged in that part of heaven where the sun rises, and the accursed in the west.
They have I know not what kind of priests and prophets, who very rarely present themselves to the people, having their abode in the mountains. At their arrival, there is a great feast, and solemn assembly of many villages: each house, as I have described, makes a village, and they are about a French league distant from one another. This prophet declaims to them in public, exhorting them to virtue and their duty: but all their ethics are comprised in these two articles, resolution in war, and affection to their wives. He also prophesies to them events to come, and the issues they are to expect from their enterprises, and prompts them to or diverts them from war: but let him look to't; for if he fail in his divination, and anything happen otherwise than he has foretold, he is cut into a thousand pieces, if he be caught, and condemned for a false prophet: for that reason, if any of them has been mistaken, he is no more heard of.
Divination is a gift of God, and therefore to abuse it, ought to be a punishable imposture. Amongst the Scythians, where their diviners failed in the promised effect, they were laid, bound hand and foot, upon carts loaded with firs and bavins, and drawn by oxen, on which they were burned to death.--[Herodotus, iv. 69.]--Such as only meddle with things subject to the conduct of human capacity, are excusable in doing the best they can: but those other fellows that come to delude us with assurances of an extraordinary faculty, beyond our understanding, ought they not to be punished, when they do not make good the effect of their promise, and for the temerity of their imposture?
They have continual war with the nations that live further within the mainland, beyond their mountains, to which they go naked, and without other arms than their bows and wooden swords, fashioned at one end like the head of our javelins. The obstinacy of their battles is wonderful, and they never end without great effusion of blood: for as to running away, they know not what it is. Every one for a trophy brings home the head of an enemy he has killed, which he fixes over the door of his house. After having a long time treated their prisoners very well, and given them all the regales they can think of, he to whom the prisoner belongs, invites a great assembly of his friends. They being come, he ties a rope to one of the arms of the prisoner, of which, at a distance, out of his reach, he holds the one end himself, and gives to the friend he loves best the other arm to hold after the same manner; which being. done, they two, in the presence of all the assembly, despatch him with their swords. After that, they roast him, eat him amongst them, and send some chops to their absent friends. They do not do this, as some think, for nourishment, as the Scythians anciently did, but as a representation of an extreme revenge; as will appear by this: that having observed the Portuguese, who were in league with their enemies, to inflict another sort of death upon any of them they took prisoners, which was to set them up to the girdle in the earth, to shoot at the remaining part till it was stuck full of arrows, and then to hang them, they thought those people of the other world (as being men who had sown the knowledge of a great many vices amongst their neighbours, and who were much greater masters in all sorts of mischief than they) did not exercise this sort of revenge without a meaning, and that it must needs be more painful than theirs, they began to leave their old way, and to follow this. I am not sorry that we should here take notice of the barbarous horror of so cruel an action, but that, seeing so clearly into their faults, we should be so blind to our own. I conceive there is more barbarity in eating a man alive, than when he is dead; in tearing a body limb from limb by racks and torments, that is yet in perfect sense; in roasting it by degrees; in causing it to be bitten and worried by dogs and swine (as we have not only read, but lately seen, not amongst inveterate and mortal enemies, but among neighbours and fellow-citizens, and, which is worse, under colour of piety and religion), than to roast and eat him after he is dead.
Chrysippus and Zeno, the two heads of the Stoic sect, were of opinion that there was no hurt in making use of our dead carcasses, in what way soever for our necessity, and in feeding upon them too;--[Diogenes Laertius, vii. 188.]--as our own ancestors, who being besieged by Caesar in the city Alexia, resolved to sustain the famine of the siege with the bodies of their old men, women, and other persons who were incapable of bearing arms.
"Vascones, ut fama est, alimentis talibus usi
Produxere animas."
["'Tis said the Gascons with such meats appeased their hunger." --Juvenal, Sat., xv. 93.]
And the physicians make no bones of employing it to all sorts of use, either to apply it outwardly; or to give it inwardly for the health of the patient. But there never was any opinion so irregular, as to excuse treachery, disloyalty, tyranny, and cruelty, which are our familiar vices. We may then call these people barbarous, in respect to the rules of reason: but not in respect to ourselves, who in all sorts of barbarity exceed them. Their wars are throughout noble and generous, and carry as much excuse and fair pretence, as that human malady is capable of; having with them no other foundation than the sole jealousy of valour. Their disputes are not for the conquest of new lands, for these they already possess are so fruitful by nature, as to supply them without labour or concern, with all things necessary, in such abundance that they have no need to enlarge their borders. And they are, moreover, happy in this, that they only covet so much as their natural necessities require: all beyond that is superfluous to them: men of the same age call one another generally brothers, those who are younger, children; and the old men are fathers to all. These leave to their heirs in common the full possession of goods, without any manner of division, or other title than what nature bestows upon her creatures, in bringing them into the world. If their neighbours pass over the mountains to assault them, and obtain a victory, all the victors gain by it is glory only, and the advantage of having proved themselves the better in valour and virtue: for they never meddle with the goods of the conquered, but presently return into their own country, where they have no want of anything necessary, nor of this greatest of all goods, to know happily how to enjoy their condition and to be content. And those in turn do the same; they demand of their prisoners no other ransom, than acknowledgment that they are overcome: but there is not one found in an age, who will not rather choose to die than make such a confession, or either by word or look recede from the entire grandeur of an invincible courage. There is not a man amongst them who had not rather be killed and eaten, than so much as to open his mouth to entreat he may not. They use them with all liberality and freedom, to the end their lives may be so much the dearer to them; but frequently entertain them with menaces of their approaching death, of the torments they are to suffer, of the preparations making in order to it, of the mangling their limbs, and of the feast that is to be made, where their carcass is to be the only dish. All which they do, to no other end, but only to extort some gentle or submissive word from them, or to frighten them so as to make them run away, to obtain this advantage that they were terrified, and that their constancy was shaken; and indeed, if rightly taken, it is in this point only that a true victory consists:
"Victoria nulla est,
Quam quae confessor animo quoque subjugat hostes."
["No victory is complete, which the conquered do not admit to be so.--"Claudius, De Sexto Consulatu Honorii, v. 248.]
The Hungarians, a very warlike people, never pretend further than to reduce the enemy to their discretion; for having forced this confession from them, they let them go without injury or ransom, excepting, at the most, to make them engage their word never to bear arms against them again. We have sufficient advantages over our enemies that are borrowed and not truly our own; it is the quality of a porter, and no effect of virtue, to have stronger arms and legs; it is a dead and corporeal quality to set in array; 'tis a turn of fortune to make our enemy stumble, or to dazzle him with the light of the sun; 'tis a trick of science and art, and that may happen in a mean base fellow, to be a good fencer. The estimate and value of a man consist in the heart and in the will: there his true honour lies. Valour is stability, not of legs and arms, but of the courage and the soul; it does not lie in the goodness of our horse or our arms but in our own. He that falls obstinate in his courage--
"Si succiderit, de genu pugnat"
["If his legs fail him, he fights on his knees." --Seneca, De Providentia, c. 2.]
--he who, for any danger of imminent death, abates nothing of his assurance; who, dying, yet darts at his enemy a fierce and disdainful look, is overcome not by us, but by fortune; he is killed, not conquered; the most valiant are sometimes the most unfortunate. There are defeats more triumphant than victories. Never could those four sister victories, the fairest the sun ever be held, of Salamis, Plataea, Mycale, and Sicily, venture to oppose all their united glories, to the single glory of the discomfiture of King Leonidas and his men, at the pass of Thermopylae. Who ever ran with a more glorious desire and greater ambition, to the winning, than Captain Iscolas to the certain loss of a battle?--[Diodorus Siculus, xv. 64.]--Who could have found out a more subtle invention to secure his safety, than he did to assure his destruction? He was set to defend a certain pass of Peloponnesus against the Arcadians, which, considering the nature of the place and the inequality of forces, finding it utterly impossible for him to do, and seeing that all who were presented to the enemy, must certainly be left upon the place; and on the other side, reputing it unworthy of his own virtue and magnanimity and of the Lacedaemonian name to fail in any part of his duty, he chose a mean betwixt these two extremes after this manner; the youngest and most active of his men, he preserved for the service and defence of their country, and sent them back; and with the rest, whose loss would be of less consideration, he resolved to make good the pass, and with the death of them, to make the enemy buy their entry as dear as possibly he could; as it fell out, for being presently environed on all sides by the Arcadians, after having made a great slaughter of the enemy, he and his were all cut in pieces. Is there any trophy dedicated to the conquerors which was not much more due to these who were overcome? The part that true conquering is to play, lies in the encounter, not in the coming off; and the honour of valour consists in fighting, not in subduing.
But to return to my story: these prisoners are so far from discovering the least weakness, for all the terrors that can be represented to them, that, on the contrary, during the two or three months they are kept, they always appear with a cheerful countenance; importune their masters to make haste to bring them to the test, defy, rail at them, and reproach them with cowardice, and the number of battles they have lost against those of their country. I have a song made by one of these prisoners, wherein he bids them "come all, and dine upon him, and welcome, for they shall withal eat their own fathers and grandfathers, whose flesh has served to feed and nourish him. These muscles," says he, "this flesh and these veins, are your own: poor silly souls as you are, you little think that the substance of your ancestors' limbs is here yet; notice what you eat, and you will find in it the taste of your own flesh:" in which song there is to be observed an invention that nothing relishes of the barbarian. Those that paint these people dying after this manner, represent the prisoner spitting in the faces of his executioners and making wry mouths at them. And 'tis most certain, that to the very last gasp, they never cease to brave and defy them both in word and gesture. In plain truth, these men are very savage in comparison of us; of necessity, they must either be absolutely so or else we are savages; for there is a vast difference betwixt their manners and ours.
The men there have several wives, and so much the greater number, by how much they have the greater reputation for valour. And it is one very remarkable feature in their marriages, that the same jealousy our wives have to hinder and divert us from the friendship and familiarity of other women, those employ to promote their husbands' desires, and to procure them many spouses; for being above all things solicitous of their husbands' honour, 'tis their chiefest care to seek out, and to bring in the most companions they can, forasmuch as it is a testimony of the husband's virtue. Most of our ladies will cry out, that 'tis monstrous; whereas in truth it is not so, but a truly matrimonial virtue, and of the highest form. In the Bible, Sarah, with Leah and Rachel, the two wives of Jacob, gave the most beautiful of their handmaids to their husbands; Livia preferred the passions of Augustus to her own interest; --[Suetonius, Life of Augustus, c. 71.]--and the wife of King Deiotarus, Stratonice, did not only give up a fair young maid that served her to her husband's embraces, but moreover carefully brought up the children he had by her, and assisted them in the succession to their father's crown.
And that it may not be supposed, that all this is done by a simple and servile obligation to their common practice, or by any authoritative impression of their ancient custom, without judgment or reasoning, and from having a soul so stupid that it cannot contrive what else to do, I must here give you some touches of their sufficiency in point of understanding. Besides what I repeated to you before, which was one of their songs of war, I have another, a love-song, that begins thus:
"Stay, adder, stay, that by thy pattern my sister may draw the fashion and work of a rich ribbon, that I may present to my beloved, by which means thy beauty and the excellent order of thy scales shall for ever be preferred before all other serpents."
Wherein the first couplet, "Stay, adder," &c., makes the burden of the song. Now I have conversed enough with poetry to judge thus much that not only there is nothing barbarous in this invention, but, moreover, that it is perfectly Anacreontic. To which it may be added, that their language is soft, of a pleasing accent, and something bordering upon the Greek termination.
Three of these people, not foreseeing how dear their knowledge of the corruptions of this part of the world will one day cost their happiness and repose, and that the effect of this commerce will be their ruin, as I presuppose it is in a very fair way (miserable men to suffer themselves to be deluded with desire of novelty and to have left the serenity of their own heaven to come so far to gaze at ours!), were at Rouen at the time that the late King Charles IX. was there. The king himself talked to them a good while, and they were made to see our fashions, our pomp, and the form of a great city. After which, some one asked their opinion, and would know of them, what of all the things they had seen, they found most to be admired? To which they made answer, three things, of which I have forgotten the third, and am troubled at it, but two I yet remember. They said, that in the first place they thought it very strange that so many tall men, wearing beards, strong, and well armed, who were about the king ('tis like they meant the Swiss of the guard), should submit to obey a child, and that they did not rather choose out one amongst themselves to command. Secondly (they have a way of speaking in their language to call men the half of one another), that they had observed that there were amongst us men full and crammed with all manner of commodities, whilst, in the meantime, their halves were begging at their doors, lean and half- starved with hunger and poverty; and they thought it strange that these necessitous halves were able to suffer so great an inequality and injustice, and that they did not take the others by the throats, or set fire to their houses.
I talked to one of them a great while together, but I had so ill an interpreter, and one who was so perplexed by his own ignorance to apprehend my meaning, that I could get nothing out of him of any moment: Asking him what advantage he reaped from the superiority he had amongst his own people (for he was a captain, and our mariners called him king), he told me, to march at the head of them to war. Demanding of him further how many men he had to follow him, he showed me a space of ground, to signify as many as could march in such a compass, which might be four or five thousand men; and putting the question to him whether or no his authority expired with the war, he told me this remained: that when he went to visit the villages of his dependence, they planed him paths through the thick of their woods, by which he might pass at his ease. All this does not sound very ill, and the last was not at all amiss, for they wear no breeches.
Yeah, your wife is right.
THE REASON I WOULD LIKE TO DISLODGE BRENDAN KELLYS SWEATTY SACK FROM HIS LEG
I think it would be a good entry/list for when i become famous and start a blog. All the celebritys i have come in contact with in some sort of weird sexual way. Although that would be my first entry. Maybe that would be the spark I need. Who knows what would come after that. Maybe sliting Britney Spears twat to asshole for her next baby.
Brendan Kelly, nur eine Sache würde jemals davon überzeugen, mich zu entfernen Sie Ihre Ball Sack aus Ihrer Oberschenkel, und das ist, wenn Sie versprechen, zu spielen, nur einmal, in Bangor, ME.
i'd like to unstick your nuts from your leg because it would be a nice change of pace from removing my own nuts from my leg. variety is the spice of life.
and a bad sandwich shirt would go fantastic with my falcon autographed boy shorts.
Dude, i'm not touching your ball sack... and shame on your wife for peeling your sweaty sack from your thigh...
on the other hand, i could use a free t-shirt and a beer... do i whore myself for such nominal prizes? perhaps, if i'm drunk enough.. how many High Lifes (or is it High Lives?) would it take to make me touch your ball sack? I would probably hurl and pass out before I reached that stage, so it would be some sort of eternal effort to get drunk enough to touch your sack without passing out..
yeah, fuck all that.. your sack can stay stuck to your thigh for all i care.. i got my own problems
hahaha love the blog man!
Brendan Kelly has Balls of Steele
(or Testicular Fortitude if your Blagojevich Blowing Smoke Up Your Own Ass)
I, for one, was surprised to find out Brendan was human. One who deals with the issues other humans like me face.
www.urbandictionary .com cites “post it” as the name for ones balls sticking to ones leg. Its clearly a definition drawn directly from the journal of medicine.
Since the birth of man and (and probably apes) the male species has been plagued by humidity. Humidity and or a trip to the mall with your wife will make those cum carriers stick like Elmers glue. One must assume that this was the inspiration for the practice of castration before the development of recorded human history. Surely they had condoms back then right?
BK I would unstick those balls for you like a pro. I’ve been in possession of a pair of balls of my own for 27 years. Grabbing them to serve various purposes at a billion times a day for 9,855 days would pretty much make me the Michael Jordan of “post it” relief.
Let me know if I can be of service.
Eric F
thanks for ruining my life that previously went on without me picturing an ass to beav slice.
i wouldnt remove anyones balls from their leg except my own.
Oh Christ! If I had a dollar for every time I unstuck a guy's balls from his inner thigh I'd have at leat 16 and half dollars.
Fuck Off!
Why i would dislodge BK's balls?
I would not do it for any cult of personality deal that causes people to worship musicians' genitals. I would not do it to stroke Brendan's ego. The reason i would free his sack from the sticky grip of the cobra and thighs is the same reason i read his blog, less in hope of finding answers than for solace. It is my understanding that life is a series of absurdities and it is in Brendan Kelly's balls that i may learn to overcome the absurd to find proof that life is meaningful.
First of all, the idea of the cobra slice doesn't really phase me. I've often found myself thinking "Wow. You know, there's really not a whole lot separating those two holes." It's barely a driveway compared to the runway men possess, so I don't find the concept all too surprising.
Secondly, as much as I'd like to help out your valiant cause, I would not peel your scrotum off of your thigh. However, I do not believe that your wife is right. You need to put the question in the right context. Your wife will do this deed for you because of your relationship with her. The majority of the people who read your blog aren't interested in touching your genitals just because they think you're funny and talented, save for maybe a few girls and/or queer (both definitions) fellows. But that handful is made up of people that are probably attracted to you and would love to pursue some sort of relationship or sexual encounter with you. If the question is "if you were my lover, would you be willing to do this for me?" I'm sure you would receive more positive feedback. I know that if I were in a homosexual relationship with you then I would do it, because I'm a considerate and compassionate person. I also know that I have had girlfriends that, regardless of the amount of convincing involved, would have done that for me and that there are future girlfriends who will. Are you "lucky" to have your wife in this respect? No. There are millions of people that would perform that favor for you if they were playing the role in your life your wife currently has filled.
Hopefully that all made sense, since I don't care enough to go back through and read it. I don't want a t-shirt, though. Just a statement to the effect of "Eric Cannon is a totally radical dude" in your next entry would be sufficient.
i would unstick your balls from your leg because sarah palin probably won't.
rage.
I'm doing this in numerical form because I hate essays.
Reasons I Would Unstick Your Balls:
1. I can put it on my list of crazy things I've done. Or, since I don't have one of those, it can be the BEGINNING of the list of crazy things I've done.
2. I can be an asshole and drop it in normal conversation. "Yes, I'd like a large fry with that, also, I once unstuck Brendan Kelly's balls from his thigh, may I also get extra mustard?"
3. I've never unstuck a guys' balls from his thigh. I think it will be an enlightening experience.
4. I would put some technique into it. Not just the normal reach-over-and-unstick-with-my-hand. I could do a hip-hop dance number and then as the climax I reach over, all B-girl like, cup your balls in my hand, and unstick. Entertainment and comfort at the same time.
5. I'd get like a million comments about it on MySpace or Facebook if I wrote a blog/note about it. It'd pretty much boost my popularity on said social networking sites.
6. Joe_Costa would be so jealous of me.
7. It would help end prejudice. A black/Japanese girl unsticking a white man/grizzy bears' balls. We would go down in history for ending racism.
8. It'd be my inspiration to write a really nice song. A love song, at that.
9. It'd really piss my mom off.
Why I would liberate BK's balls from the evil grapple of his inner thighs?
... WHY THE FUCK NOT!?! That's why!
I would separate Brendan Kelley's sweaty balls from his thigh for a beer. I just really like beer. And Brendan is pretty cool too I guess.
Fuck, I'm not over 18.
Definitely wouldn't pull your sweaty sack from your thigh, but I think its pretty cool that I had to ask my girl to do the same thing last night..didn't get any of the pussy either. Anyways, seems like most women are happy to help out..
I'd like to unstick your nutsack just to get a little investigation time in. I have this terrible suspicion that mine is not normal. Basically I'm hoping to find out that yours has what can only be described as corners.
Dude, I think you kind of overstepped your bounds on this one. You asked your wife to perform a favor involving your pouch, thinking the intimacy of the act would lead to some sexing.
Here's an example of a situation that usually leads to sex. She comes home and immediately starts complaining about how everyone at work is a moron. You tell her to relax and start rubbing her shoulders, offering vague, comforting suggestions and sly jokes to lighten the mood (the bonus part of the backrub is that when you're behind her, she can't see you and, therefore, can't tell that you're not listening to her). This approach is more likely to lead to sex because:
a) it's helpful. She's in a stressful position and you're being attentive to her needs.
b) she believes you're enjoying it. Women's bodies are very sexy and they know it. They get turned on when you touch them because they think that you've spent all day thinking about them.
And here's why her scraping the scrote is the opposite of that.
a) it's not very helpful. I mean, your sack is just gonna crawl up your thighs again. Mine has done so at least four times since I've started writing this. And it's not like you're running a marathon or anything; you're just lying in bed. That's just your body's way of telling your balls to relax. It's like a little hammock for them.
b) she's obviously not enjoying it and you know it. Fact is, no woman is going to get turned on by scraping your sweaty bag off your thigh. It's like opening up a Kraft single, except Kraft singles don't smell like vinegar and feel like Playdoh. Totally not attractive.
And you can't seriously think that thousands are lining up to peel your sack from your thigh. Maybe if your sack was like Excalibur and only the chosen one could pull that sucker off there, I'd give it a tug.
But sticking to the prompt, here's why I'd like to be the guy to pull your coin purse from your thighs.
1) I'm not gay, so there wouldn't be anything sexual about it. It's just me helping a brother out.
2) I've been a fan of your bands for a number of years and it would be a great way to show my appreciation of your contributions to musical community.
3) I'm very knowledgeable in a variety of other skills, so I'd be able to assist you in the downtime it takes for your sack to stick to your legs again. I can handle phone calls and emails when I'm not handling your sack.
4) I'd work for minimum wage and travel is not an issue for me.
So there you have it. Enclosed is my resume. I think you'll find my education and work experience to be fitting of an aspiring ball-scraper.
When I should have been remembering information that I would have to write about...I was thinking of this. Maybe it isn't such a good way to start my day, it is a distraction. Anyway, at some point, I decided that I actually have no reason to be against handling your balls in that fashion. I feel fairly certain you won't start having an orgasm from my touch and I am even more certain that I'm not going to do it in a sexual matter and, as a result, it would be a little weird, but mostly just like if somebody asked you to scratch their elbow or some shit...just a little bit less good to have someone walk in on. With that said, scratching someone's elbow when they still have a second arm - a little weird.
the reason i would like to unstick your testicles is to end world hunger. i feel that in the americas we do not often enough get the opportunity to unstick a ballsack of another man like those in the lets say mexicos. by unsticking your beautiful nutsack i feel that as a team we could encourage the people who feed their 3 year old 5 bigmacs a day to share the wealth with that man on the street picking through the office depot garbage (not a good food spot). So that is why i feel that me peeling the fleshy sack from your gorgeous leg could help save the world outside of the americas. amen.
"Why I I want to un-peel Brendan Kelly's balls from his thigh"
Firstly, as a daily reader of the bad sandwich I do not normally comment on blogs, but given the absolute ridiculousness of an essay contest of the said topic and due to how bored out of my skull I am at my office job I will indulge on this one.
I want to start off by saying that I in no way have any desire to detach your cumbag from your thigh, due in no part to any homophobic reasoning, but because the thought of my own ball sack disgusts me. Having said this I wish to convey the following points to you wife (who I do not know and have never personally met). If you can agree to loving this man in sickness and in health, till Death do you part, then how much is it to ask to assist him with removing some elbow-style skin from his lower extremities? This is a man who you have legally agreed to spend the rest of your life with, so why not help him resolve one of modern mans most common dilemmas? My counter point, is that if you still feel that this man's ballsack (apparently "sweaty and gross")does not appeal to you, you can simply point out to him that at least 24 people on the internet have replied to his blog, in essay form no less, that they would gladly do this for him. Point out to him that any one of these people would have no problem with carrying out this action for him if he wants it done so bad(It's a win-win).
-Tyler Koziar
Pittsburgh, PA
I should be allowed to unstick your ballsack from your thigh because I have it down to a fucking science man. It's all about grabbing the right fold of scrot-skin that isn't too close to the meatiest meat of the ball. You then stretch the scrotal skin until it's taut, and then it sort of pops off like a garfield thing in a car. I'd also give you a few pleasing tickles, if that's your thing.
Brendan, I have been eagerly relinquishing musicians' thighs of their sweaty nuts for years. Your scrotum's rock star status won't phase me, as I've worked with several respected artists throughout the years (not to drop names, but Jade from AFI, Lars from Rancid, and Benny from Gaslight Anthem can recommend my services).
I understand that your sack is delicate and will handle it as such in a timely manner. I might not always be available in person, but I promise to have a trained standby on call at all times.
My father is Archibald Publick, the sacktender (who I'm sure you know as the fellow who famously detached Jamie Lee Curtis' nuts from Scott Glenn's face on the set of As Summers Die). He taught me everything I know.
I am very professional, but I am also fully aware that peeling your sticky, sweaty, muggy scrotum off your thigh (probably the part that for some reason doesn't grow hair, even though the rest of your leg is pretty hairy, what's up with that?) is inherently sexual in nature. It's just part of the job, man! And there's so much more to it.
In conclusion, Obama should be president because- oops i mean
In conclusion, my lifelong passion for rock star sacktending makes me the perfect candidate for a free t-shirt.
You say why? I say why not?
As a victim of an episiotomy myself, I think I encompass the qualifications one needs to perform a proper ball detachment of the hairy leg. As a child I believed men had 3 balls, and upon the age of 14 I took note that there was only a mere 2 ball sacs. This said, you can see my extensive knowledge of the ball sacs ranks right up there with the best of them.
I would detatch your sack from your thigh in order to make a plaster cast of your scrotum for my collection.
i'd unstick your balls just so i could say i've unstuck brendan kelly's balls from his leg. Then when everyone asks "Who the fuck is brendan kelly" I can give them a wink and a knowing smile.
The beav-to-asshole splice is technically termed an episiotomy. Look it up on Wikipedia for a vectored image that makes even the roughest gals vaginal walls quiver with fear.
Don't choose nancy. She thinks there are two ballsacks. Even if she does a good job peeling off your sack, she would spend all day looking for the other one.
I'd make a good candidate. I'm not 18 though. Just send me the free t-shirt. It can make up for the Falcon t-shirt I ordered off interpunk that fucking peeled away after a day. That was pretty much the worst disappointment I've ever had considering the amount of excitement I had leading up to when the parcel arrived in the mail.
manI'm experienced with sticky balls -
"6/8/08
In my last post, we discussed my nude sleeping habits during the summer months and the consequences that come with sleeping in the buff. Let's review:
"The climate in the midwest displays ball-numbingly cold winters and ball-stickingly hot summers. Over the past several days, the summer's ball-stickingly hot tendencies have been on display. During this season, it feels great to sleep naked, but the summer literally makes my balls sticky, and it's a constant struggle to pry my scrotum from my inner thigh. My potential solutions were to -
"1. Stick a sheet in between my balls.
2. Put a tube sock around my collective junk.
"In the early hours of Friday morning, I prepared to test my first of two possible solutions. I came across a roadblock in my theory, though, when I realized that I don't actually HAVE a top sheet with me in Chicago. What's a handsome, aspiring young scientist to do? After a little searching, I discovered a pillowcase that had separated from its host and decided that would do as a makeshift sheet. With the pillowcase tucked snugly around my junk, I played the title role of Little Nemo, Dreammaster. I woke up several times over the course of the evening, irate due to the pillowcase's inability to stay tucked. Failure.
"In the early hours of Saturday morning, I prepared to test my final potential solution. Now, I had to factor in excruciating minutia of this experiment, such as - Toe socks or "mitten" socks? Campy socks or white socks? Calf-length or ankle-length? I decided on an ankle-length, white tube sock for these reasons:
"1. A calf-length sock stands a greater chance of getting twisted in the blanket and pulled off, or caught under a thigh and pulled off, or lodged in between my butt cheeks and just getting all smelly.
"2. I knew I'd be doing a lot of walking at the Printer's Row Book Fair on Saturday, so I figured I'd want to wear thick, sweat-absorbing, white tube socks. Always the recycler, I figured I could reuse the experimental sock, along with its mate, on my feet on Saturday.
"I woke up several times during the course of the evening, but it wasn't due to ball-stickiness. One time it was because I was just hot overall, the other time was because I had a dream, and the final time was because I had to shit. Each time I woke up, the sock was still firmly attached to my junk, excepting an instance when a single testicle had managed to free itself. Nonetheless, my theory proved to be a success!
"For all of you dudes out there that like sleeping naked but hate the ball-stickiness, I strongly recommend a sock. I don't know if it's for all ball types, though, because, as Joe was so kind to point out, I keep my scrot closely shaved. I'm unsure how a scrot with a full-head of hair would do with a tube sock. I imagine it would pull on the hairs, similar to how socks sometimes pull on your leg hairs and it gets obnoxious and ouch-y.
"7/3/08
Question for all readers that nature endowed with a weiner -
"Have you ever experienced what I can best describe as "leather balls?"
"I ask because this week my balls became, like, chapped and literally felt like leather. I woke up Tuesday morning with really sweaty, itchy balls, but they also hurt like they'd suffered from a rug burn (not cool). I thought, "Fuck! This sucks! Oh, well, I'll put some Gold Bond powder on there and be on my merry way." I was feeling rather uncomfortable in my groin area most of the day, but didn't really think much of it. I came home, fucked around, then put a sock on and went to bed (it was a hot one Tuesday).
"I woke up Wednesday morning, gave the ol' testes the once over--still burned--then went to work. After work is when things went all nutty (oh!). I changed out of my work pants, pulled at the waistband of my underpants, and was shocked to discover the leather balls (not to be confused with Leather Head, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles' crocodilian foe). I was seriously pretty freaked out. I checked out www.webmd.com to see what they had to say about leather balls and came across the basics - herpes, jock itch, scabies...whatever. No help.
"I thought back to Monday night and I've come to what I feel is the most logical conclusion: Monday evening before my visit from the Sandman, I had myself a little jam session. Now, I'm not one to get down on dry hand-to-dong action, so I usually use a moisturizer. Because my room is such a mess, I couldn't find the necessary jam session accessory, so I just spit in my hand and took the bullet train to Pound Town. After I was done, I cleaned up, rolled over, and passed out. My theory is that, well, I used spit. Spit is gross and full of bacteria and other jimmy-germs. The bacteria and other gross jimmy-germs, in tandem with the ball sweat, confined within an ankle-length white gym sock, created the perfect environment for an itchy rash to develop that ended up SCABBING OVER! Yes, approximately 45% of my ball-bag was covered in a fucking scab. Weird, right? What's even weirder is that it's been flaking off every time I go to take a piss, especially during the post-piss shake.
"So, mystery solved. Or I have some sort of STD that is contracted by not having sex. Speaking of which, as if my massive comic and toy collection didn't already make it difficult enough to convince chicks to let me see their b00bz, going into graphic detail about my leather balls certainly isn't helping my cause."
-DHM
unsticking brendan's balls.
an essay by me.
i was going to write the best fuckin essay in the whole wide world, but then i started to think: everyone's going to write a fuckin essay and i'm not like the others so instead of the essay i'm going to write a couple good reasons why unsticking your balls is the thing i wanna do.
1. because it's better than smelling my breathe in the morning.
2. because i want to smell my hands after doing it and then say in a strong and clear voice: mmm it smells as i thought it would.
3. because i'm the one that sends flowers to you at your gigs, and calls you home.
4. because you're not as disgusting as fat mike or as my manly girlfriend.
5.because jesus told me to do it.
6.because if i don't do it one little puppy is going to die every second.
7.because i know that you want to feel my firm but gentle hands.
8.because everybody else is doing it.
9.because somebody told me that you shave down there.
10.because i'm bored
I have never really considered myself the type of guy who likes to interact with other guys via touching of the scrotum and/or penis. The last time I participated in this type of behaviour was about a year ago during a Christmas dinner when I removed a fork from my friend’s penis, as well as his balls from his hairy thighs.
It was Christmas day and my one friend Albert was invited to join my family and I as we ravished a feast that was prepared with the intention of celebrating the birth of Christ. Being an atheist that freelances in Christianity every now and then, Albert was there only for the food and wine.
With both of us being avid Lawrance Arms fans and keen mosh-pitters, Albert and I retreated to my room for some after-dinner music. Now Albert and I have this Christmas tradition of removing our clothes and viciously doing the Macarena dance while listening to Apathy & Exhaustion. After listening through the CD three times, Albert fell facedown onto the ground due to over-exertion. Suddenly the room errupted in a shrill shriek. I have never heard a man scream like Albert did, like a wailing hound of the Baskervilles. When I turned him around, I discovered that he fell on his bowl of chocolate brownies – leaving the fork stuck in his erect penis.
I immediately did what I had to do and removed the fork, like the Excalibur from Arthurian legends, from his rock-hard penis, but the screaming didn’t stop. Having seen a similar situation on Rescue 911 before, I knew where to look next. Because of all the dancing, both of us had worked up quite a sweat. Upon inspection, I found that Albert’s balls were stuck to his hairy thighs. With my 8th best friend in agony, I did what I had to do: I licked the area between his thighs and his balls. Some people would find it weird to be naked in your room with a friend, both of you sweaty, listening to someone sing about gravelly groans, being titillated, things being tantalizing, and showing off white bone, whilst gently tonguing the skin of said friend's scrotum. I swallowed my pride and went to work. Don't call me a hero - I did what anyone in my position would do.
Eventually I was able to pull his balls free from his thighs. I heaved a great sigh of relief. I noticed, however, that the screaming would not stop. I looked up at Albert's face, who had his eyes closed, with his head tilted back. I realized, that even though he was still screaming, there was a distinct change in the tone of it. Before I could realise what was going on, Albert heaved a great "EAT MY DICK BULLETS, BITCH!" and commenced to spray his manliness all over my face.
And that’s why I would remove BK’s balls from his thighs. Because every time I think about it, I am reminded of Albert screaming like a girl and giving me a moneyshot... and quit frankly, the thought turns me on.
Only so I could refer to your balls as the ramblin' boys of pleasure.
I would not enjoy the actual act unsticking your balls from your leg but I would still like the opportunity to try. I figure anything in life worth doing involves enduring some unpleasantness. Here's the reasons why I'd like to.
1. It would finally make Brendan respect me as an equal.
2. It would give me more leverage in requesting "The Last One" and "Eighteen Inches" at Lawrence Arms shows. That alone would be worth it.
3. I could finally settle the "Brendan Kelly: One ball or three balls?" controversy which has plagued the rock and roll world for more than a decade.
4. I would finally have some story to match the crusty punk types I bump into sometimes in Minneapolis - "oh yeah? I'm so fucking punk as fuck once I fucking unstuck a dude's fucking nuts from his fucking leg for him just because I fucking can" then shout oi or no future or some shit.
5. In my experience nut sweat tastes a lot like chicken. As a vegetarian I'm always looking for ways to get meat-taste without having to eat an animal. Brendan's nut sweat would have the added bonus of tasting like beer cuz he takes most of his carbs in liquid form. So if I licked my hands afterward it'd be like vegetarian beer-can chicken. How awesome is that? Plus I don't get enough salt in my diet so it'd actually be healthy for me.
6. Brendan doesn't actually want me to unstick his nuts for him. I'm a man who likes a challenge - I like the thrill of the chase - so him saying he only wants his wife or merch guy to do it makes it all the more appealing.
7. After doing the unstick I'd apply talcum powder or rock climbing chalk so it would happen again. Not only would this be like a humanitarian act but then I could say I was the person to ever unstick Brendan's nuts. This is the kind of Guinness book of world records shit that I have always wanted to achieve with my life, it would finally justify my existence on earth.
There you have it.
i would like to add, beeks (can i call you beeks?), that while most people have been quick to point out that while they would unstick your balls, there would be no pleasure in it for them.
i, on the other hand, would like nothing more in my life than the honor of gently grasping your scrotum between my fingers and freeing your ball- i mean, balls- from your thigh.
in fact, i wrote about it in my blog, 5 years ago, and i can prove it because here it is now:
"12/3/2003 (which was five years ago)-
i bet that one day brendan kelly from the lawrence arms, and the falcon, who i somehow know about even though it's totally 5 years ago, will do an essay contest about his balls. i hope it involves his thighs, too. those rockin' thighs. i would love that."
so there you have it. proof that i love balls and thighs and the falcon. did i mention my dad touched jamie lee curtis' balls? i think i did.
I would love to unstick Brendan Kelly's sweaty ball sack from his leg because it would be the perfect unsticking sweaty ball sack hunt.
Instead of having to cross many jungles, deserts, oceans, i would only have to head north to the great city of Chicago, follow your trail and scent, sneak into your living place, unstick, wipe sweat onto cotton ball as trophy, then escape with my dear life hoping you fail to wake up and catch me.
It would be for honor! Nothing more. Nothing less.
Note to self, never eat while reading this. OMG though i almost shit my pants at the bat wings part. rofl
why id want to unstick BK's balls...
to see that mean ass tattoo on his guch...
hahaha... ya know, i think zaq and I have had VERY similar conversations... the whole blog... the tearing... the ball sack sticking... the whole bit...
and ummm.... no on the prying your balls thing... Ill stick to zaqs... man, he's lucky he has me :) I guess theres just certain things you'll do for a person, after they've watch a child pass through your vagina. hahaha!
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