Let’s face it folks, you see football players, baseball players and the occasional man-about-town do it… Junk adjustment.
You’ll never know how uncomfortable a man can be when the berries get wrapped around the ol’ twig in opposing directions like bolas around the hind legs of a fine Spanish calf, and the twig ends up bent in half sideways, thereby locking the whole mess hopelessly in place.
No amount of jiggling can work the disentanglement conundrum loose, whether you’re hopping around bow legged thrusting your pelvis frenetically back and forth at increasingly awkward angles, or standing stoically trying to joggle the bits loose with one marginally useful paw that twitches spastically as fried nerves decide whether or not they want to fire from moment to moment. In any attempt to resolve the issue in a more public venue, your spouse will invariably decline assistance and content herself with halfhearted and rather sheepish attempts at shielding you from public view, mainly to placate her own embarrassment.
Assistance will only be provided once you’re safely away from the prying eyes, the howling shrieks of laughter and echoes of “Poor thang” that always seem to follow the less than dignified spectacle.
On a more positive note, I unwittingly placed third in an impromptu dance contest while visiting downtown Durham! What is “Twerking” anyway?…