I used to think I was edgy... but it turned out to just be itchy

I freely admit to suffering from premature mojo…but if I ever took Viagra, I’d probably explode….

It’s incredibly demeaning to have to be cognizant of your surroundings, when you have spent your entire life in a defiant disregard….. It’s like relearning to walk without the physio, pain or land mines … just delaminating the arching camber of a once proud independence… the sifting of manhood through aging’s lapse of time (although this current hydrocele nonsense is also prevalent among newborns, proving that humiliations start on a subatomic particle level)

It’s Official! My ball sac is molting like a snake that never got the memo…I hope there’s a real Crackerjack surprise inside, like it’s now made of red python and cotton candy, just polished to a high gloss, with flashes of lucite for that retro feel…I promise you, I would run out and buy a matching pair of Lucchese cowboy boots and chaps on a layaway plan… as this process might take a while

Seriously, it’s a new sensation to think you might have contracted leprosy in the fruits and vegetables section of your local supermarket…I’m trying to  pare down it’s origins as these days, I couldn’t have gotten it at the gym because I’ve been peeing standing up (and forgetting to shake)..  next to the leg machines, which is pissing the trainers off to no end…

I don’t know what to expect on this detoured section of roadmap to the river Styx…..I hope the ferry has room for cars, because if I have to be a pedestrian for the rest of eternity, that would be total hell…

So I’m sitting on a fence, figuratively speaking, as to my next event in the scrotal special olympics…. as in my present distendedly swollen state, sitting on it or running the high hurdles could be fraught with pain and splinters…

Help!  I’m a small testicle trapped in the body of a freakishly flapping ball sac…As the humiliations of  maturation mount, first it was the ‘politics of sex’: actually feeling the stupid consequences of random hook ups. The  breaking up of engagements and marriages, and little girls hearts, all because they actually cared for you…does carry a penalty clause - who knew? But now it’s yielding to the whims of a non-benevolent scrotal tyranny… What a karmic bitchslap, after having successfully dodged the whole STD County Fair; only to get sunk in the mud of a tractor pull…There is a certain Gordon Lightfoot bleak bitterness to this whole whiny singsong

I have always held those guys who are constantly fidgeting with their junk in the highest ridicule…but now I find myself in the necessity of doing the Lipton ‘cup a soup nuts’ every time I go from weight machine to weight machine or bench or um.. blinking…

I’ve always been a ‘no hassle, no tune-up, just jump into my equipment and hit it’ type of guy…which I now see is an exclusive bonus of youth..now, like the aforesaid politics of sex, I have to pick my battles…and most are core courses not electives……..

The landscape changed but the cartography remains the same…Something mindblowing to me is when did my checking out Chicks, transition into ‘leering’…. as apparently, now I’m just too lecherously old to be thinking of such deviant stuff with such youthful exuberance…Can the final humiliation of granny sex be far off? …..I’ll be running a continuous  Viagra IV drip, if I don’t explode from it first….. and then being thrown the final bone of a quick ‘respiteful’ death?

To maintain the delicate balance of a completely immature outlook, after lo’,  all these many decades: no wife, no girlfriend, no semblance of benefits anywhere…not even the escorts of the yellow pages or back of New York Magazine personals is far from childsplay - A life dedicated to the precepts of  worry-free/ responsibility free/ mortgage free and STD free ( or reasonable facsimile, anything not requiring the services of a  rubber-gloved Doctor and a rather cartoonishly long hypodermic…. ).  Having my body fail me with this hydrocele, while my head is still ramping up for another ‘No Skin/No Win”, is ‘lunchbag letdown’… on an epic scale

So as I pick at the last scabs of idle youth and beauty, only to have the ‘portion control’ and routine check-ups of middle age flung in my face; I can no longer take solace in any last vestiges of immortal aces up my sleeve, or dealing from the bottom of the deck….. There’s no solace to be found, only a shrill kick in the nuts, as someone goosed my life’s stopwatch into overdrive.

 I now see my fading reflection in  the next generation of cocksmen, just smugly thumbing their noses at any potential maladies and winging it by feel.  I refuse to compare their exploits with mine, as they burn stronger, and faster on my generation’s trials and errors that we furthered, and they have run with- by seeming divine right and no thank you cards involved just a slight ridiculing of the past

I too feel…but it’s the twangs of envy, jealousy and voodoo dolls….. gladly to step into their shoes for one last bang!