Well. Here we are. 2010.
Yeah that is enough about that. Lets be honest. It is a new year, but what has changed? My underwear sure hasn’t. Yeah sure, the itching it starting to get a little annoying like last year, but it will pass.
Instead of talking about what may be ahead, I need your help. I lost something. Two things actually. One minute they were there, and then bang. Gone. No note, no goodbye…not even a forwarding address. So where the hell have they gone?
It started a few days ago. It was a little cold outside. Minus 4. Not what you call warm. Unless you are an Eskimo. Or confused. Or just plain stupid. I am not gonna put that past some of you. Especially you. Yeah, you know who you are. Weirdo.
But anyway. It was on the cold side but with the fear of snow (and in this country, that means doom. Nothing good comes of it. The country stops, and I still haven’t worked out why the yellow snow tastes different to the white stuff), I decided I should do as many runs as I can before a week of ice lands and my training schedule matches my mental intellect. So severely lacking then. So I went out for a 2 hour run.
It was during this time that they went. They were there when I walked out of my door, but when I got back…gone.
You would have thought that I would have noticed them leaving, but it was pretty cold. I first noticed they were gone when I got back, wiped the ice from my face and said to my wife “Flong thruy herv a flask”. It seemed my facial muscles had frozen from the cold. What I mean to say was “Going to have a bath”. So off I went. Waiting for the bath to run, I slowly and sexily stripped off my clothes in front of the mirror admiring myself while winking and playing peekaboo with my underwear I decided I had a few minutes to kill, so I should probably give myself a good scratch. You blokes know what I mean. You women don’t get it. Or maybe you do? And you do the same? And you know…that has not created as nice an image in my head as I had hoped when I said that! If I was to walk in to the bathroom and see my wife having a good scratch, I probably wouldn’t say “Heeeeey baby!!” but would be more inclined to say “Hey, the supermarket is open 24 hours…want me to go get something for that?” and then sleep in the spare room that night through fear of catching whatever I have imagined she has.
But I am getting away from the story here. So. Back to my manly scratching. I reached down…and they were gone. And little Syhad shrunk, which scared the hell out of me…I mean hell, when there ain’t much there, the last thing you want is to realise that you lost 50% more.
Yup, I had regressed to pre puberty. I coughed. Nothing. I gagged myself to get a little more coughing power. Nothing. I tugged…well, we wont mention that. Where the heck have they gone? I had a bath…nothing. I am quietly confident that they have headed north rather than packed their bags, but I cant count that out. My voice is now more Mickey Mouse than the uber handsome man that I misguidedly imagine I am and when I talk to girls, I fumble my words, sweat profusely and come across like a complete dick. So. Nothing new there then.
But I am concerned for their wellbeing. So if you were to say be sitting on a beach and a very handsome pair of testicles are sitting there drinking pina coladas…well…they aint mine. Mine will be ugly, sweaty and drinking some higher than average alcohol content beer while leering at everyone near them. So if you see them..drop me a line. There is a reward and a pack of jelly babies in it for you!
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