where the writers are
On testicles.

It's a consequence of aging that rarely gets talked about, but I'm going to go out on a limb here, and bring this problem out of the closet, so that younger men might gain the benefit of my experience. I wish that someone would have warned me.

More and more these days, I find myself accidentally sitting on my own balls.

It's pretty much always been an AC/DC song down there. It's not something I'm all that proud of...it's just genetics. The DNA I inherited gave me brown wavy hair, hazel eyes, a slow metabolism, chemical depression, problem skin, and a certain amount of surplus in the junk department. It is what it is. I wouldn't even bring it up if it weren't for the negative ramifications thereof.

When I was a younger man, it never even occured to me to think that the scrotum would...stretch. But now that I'm in my forties...

Gravity, you rotten bastard.

I tell you, I've gained a true empathy for my large breasted sistren. As much as these things get in my way, I can't even imagine what it must be like to have a couple of D-cups (or larger) hanging on my chest. That must make navigation tricky, ladies. Still, even though you have it worse in terms of size and weight, not even my bustiest friends have to worry about sitting on their boobs. Plus, at least boobies are (at the very least) nice to look at...I think that's pretty much a universal truth.

Testicles, on the other hand, are just plain weird looking. Even a youthful, non-droopy set of boys looks like some kind of H. R. Giger-inspired mini-alien is about to come bursting out of one of them at any moment and start biting people savagely on the ankles. And, when they start to hang low...and lower...and lower...

Sorry, had to pause for a quick shudder.

I'm no fan of plastic surgery, but I'm beginning to wonder if it's possible to get a sack tuck...