Just like everyone else, most of my male friends growing up were heterosexual, and yet I saw most of their balls; wrinkly balls, saggy balls, gummy balls, hairy balls. Personally, I am perfectly content with my petite balls, but most men seem obsessed with acquiring impractical ones: giant balls and balls of steel. But can you imagine how hot in summer and cold in winter your giant steel balls would be? And heaven forbid you accidentally sit on one.
So obsessed are men with their balls that at this very moment, thousands of adolescent boys the world over are engaged in the ancient ball-tapping game. For women unfamiliar with this ostensibly heteronormative male rite of passage, it’s a war of escalating homo-erotic sadomasochism in which one male friend will casually approach another and flick him in the balls, with the understanding that, at some later date, that same friend is going to backhand him in his junk when least expected.
As one might imagine, it’s absolutely essential to never take an extra turn or escalate out of sequence; the traditional sequence being flick, slap, punch, knee, kick, brick.
(listen at https://soundcloud.com/yourfaultforlistening/cleveland)