One of the books I ordered with my giftcards was Dave Eggers' "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius", and I was thinking about that title today. Ironic or not, I would never have the balls to give a book that title. Of course, I'll never have any kind of balls. Then I started thinking about how strange it is that guys bring balls into everything. A woman would never say
"She's got tubes", or
"the eggs of that woman!" or
"bitch got womb, yo", when we admired the nerve or vivacity of someone.
Although it would be hilarious if one day we all just started greeting each other with
"Hey, girl, how's it flowing?"
And you could reply
"Heavy as horse piss" or
"Light as rain"
depending on how great or crappy your day was.
And I also think, if guys knew what we really thought of testicles, they would not bring up the topic so often. They don't make you look strong or manly at all. They look as tender and vulnerable as baby birds. As though at one point, you had this terrible accident and they couldn't quite put you back together, and now, unfortunately, your inside bits are left to fend for themselves on the outside. It's why we stay with you, I think, to make sure if there are any other accidents, we get you to the hospital on time so you don't have to go through life with your pancreas hanging from your side like another forgotten kiwi fruit.
ps. Sorry to my dad and brother.