Thursday, January 6, 2011


Question: How many Mohammads does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Answer: What's a light bulb?

Question: How many Allahs does it take to screw in a light bulb?
Answer: Allah doesn't need light bulbs, because Allah is Satan, in Hell, along with Mohammad.

Just had to get that off my chest. Cuz the governor of Punjab was assassinated by his bodyguard for suggesting that Pakistan's blasphemy laws -- or is it anti-blasphemy laws -- were not consonant with, uh, enlightenment.

But I've been thinking about testicles for the past few days. My own, specifically. Not a lot of experience with anyone else's There were those few times back in college, and high school, and, um, junior high. And after college. I castrated a goat in Australia. Just a little rubber band around the area in question, like choking a chicken. And I've changed diapers. But it's my own that have consumed my interest recently. My own testicles, not diapers. I don't use diapers. Because I don't need them.

Testicles depend from the pelvic girdle as external genitalia, because they need a slightly cooler than body temperature to properly form gametes. How nice it would be to have them snuggly nestled away insight the ribcage, right next to the heart, say. Penises have every right in the world to be completely and dramatically, flamboyantly even, external. But the testes, well, it leads to complications.

A few evenings ago I spent five or ten minutes in moderate discomfort from a misdirected knee. In my many countless years as a master of bjj, that's never happened before. I wear a so-called protective cup, but I remain unconvinced that they are manufactured with actual male men in mind. Who is shaped like that? The triangular ones, baseball, are useless, and actually dangerous. The more elongated ones are not ready-to-wear. Took me a while to figure that out. I bend them double and weight them down under furniture, so they take on a more homoform pattern. I ordered a muy thai one once, for reasons we need not go into, but it was metal and leather, with hemp somehow involved. Well, anyway. My junk is of normal proportions. Like me. Shapely and elegant. Highly coordinated and acrobatic. Able to lift very heavy things. I seem to have lost my train of thought.

So next time I'll examine my perineum.


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