Oh my God!
Remember the satirical PSA in the movie Johnny Dangerously with Michael Keaton? It was called “Your Testicles and You”
The poor guy in Fingolfin’s link… They’re speaking Dutch over the movie but I think they say “Scrotum Elephantin”
Elephantitis of the Balls! Oh my God it does exist!
I’m so glad that I’m a lesbian.
:: backs slowly out of the thread ::
Thank God for filariasis.
Let me just add, deez nutz.
Oh, I’d have to disagree with “reviled”. I think most of us adore that part of a man’s anatomy.
But it’s just not pretty, that’s all.
Okay, here’s a maybe for an analogy. I love my car, it’s big, comfy and safe. But it’s been in a wreck or two and isn’t a very good looking car.
So while I love what it does for me, I have to admit, she’s an ugly old girl.
Same for the man’s… errrr Bits…they’re beloved, but not to look at.
Maybe it’s the way I spend Sunday mornings but this kind of thing doesn’t bother me. I wouldn’t stand in line just so I could stare, but I don’t get upset or grossed out over such things, no matter what the age or condition of the bits in question (as long as they aren’t actually damaged. No spurting blood or mangled flesh, please). I honestly don’t think any of it is ugly. It’s all just interesting to me. The most unpleasant thing I might feel would be embarrassment on behalf of the unintentional flasher, if I thought it would bother them to know.
I’m sorry Rubystreak had to be traumatized by it but I am grateful for the humor it spawned. (Um… I’m not sure that was the best way to say that.) Anyhow, I laughed my ass off and it is now crawling around on its own and I have nowhere to sit down.
Happy hour at Bally’s.
Now serving pants oysters.
I’m guessing Rubystreak isn’t a nurse or she’d be used to accidentally seeing scrotums getting a breath of fresh air.
Okay, anyone who’s read the thread about the attack blimp… you know what I’m picturing!
Yeah, but you’d never hear a man say, “Ya know, I love playing with tits, squeezin’ ‘em, chewin’ on 'em, but I just don’t like how they look.” Never happen.
So Ruby…may I ask
Do you in meeting a person of the opposite sex automatically give the ‘once over’ to their block and tackle?
Gentlemen, we could have the closer to them asking us “Why do you look at my tits?”!
OTOH, I do sympathize and relate said story.
A friend and I surfed a place called Trail in South Orange County. It consisted of 5 major trails through the canyon to the beach and we were particular to #5 as it had a killer north wedge break when it got pumping. unfortunatly with this North swell, it would inevitablly sweep us to the Nude Beach about a click at Trail #6 where we would have to hike out and avoid nudiness to get back to where we wanted.
And it was not good nudiness, why is it most people that enjoy the nudity in the sun are the people you would not like to see in the nude. Oh sure, 6 had its share of hot babes (and how do you talk to them?..ask em for sunscreen) but mostly those of the aged and very aged seemed to enjoy letting it ‘hang out’ as they say. And hanging is the exact adjective for them 90 percent of the time.
Anyway, we both trundled out and were making our way back up near shorebreak when we found ourselves crossing paths with a naturist of ancient age, clad only in a sun hat and shades, sitting in one of the cheap viynil chair jobbers, ejoying the sun and the salt air.
What caught me off guard was the clear and present view of the man’s package. Now you say “huh a mans package on a nude beach…what a surprise.” Well no, it was not the complete package as the pasty white thighs concealed the monkey. No, what was beholden to me was the coconuts wrapped in their flesh pocket hanging low…LOW in the saddle.
Hanging free like a obscene mutated bunch of grapes from below between the plastic slats of the chair.
Undulating with the slight breeze…
My friend caught my patented Simpson’s Homer shudder (uhhuhuhhhhhhhhh!) and of course, being the upright bastard that he is, powers it down with the clincher.
“Yknow, if he had a cat, it would have something to play with.”
Now go and look at your cat the same way again. I certainly can’t.
Scrotum!
Scrotum!
It’s my wrinkly, crinkly bag of skin!
Everybody now!
Scrotum!
Scrotum!
It’s the thing I keep my testes in!
Wave your beer, dammit!
Well it’s wrinkled, and it’s crinkled, and it’s covered in hair
And I don’t know what I’d do if it was not there!
Oh, scrotum!
Scrotum!
It’s my wrinkly, crinkly bag of skin!
We really mean it!
My wrinkly, crinkly bag of skin!
So tell your mommy!
My wrinkly, crinkly bag of skin!
Dr. J (with props to the Asylum Street Spankers)
Because all the places in the Ob/Gyn program were full?
Dammit, I need a boyfriend. I HAVE to see this.
Well, I’m free next Wednesday. Come on over.
I’ll have you know,this thread is responsible for a slightly puzzled,if not uncooperative husband. Namely,mine. I had to see the writhing for myself,and since my cackling caused him to be curious he was summarily de-pants once I had the door closed. They really do,it’s hypnotic. Now I know how the poor cobras feel. I’m waiting for nightfall to see the “poor man’s lava lamp” for myself. Now…where did I put that flashlight… 
Obsessive Compulsive Scrotum?
Funniest thread in weeks.
Okay single girls–party at Tuckerfan’s on Wednesday–who’s bringing snacks? (We probably hve enough nuts).
And remember–you can point, or you can laugh. But you can’t point and laugh.
On second thought–can we ever have too many nuts?
Oh, go ahead, I’m used to it by now. 