Now and then I get invited to host a talk show of some sort. I'm usually up for it because, well, I talk a lot. I showed up to the location of the most recent show only to find that the stage and entire set up was miniature style making the guests and me look kinda gigantic. Good idea visually but the seat felt like it was going to disappear into my butthole at any second. Plus I was wearing bad underpants. The guests all complained about the super tiny furniture and I lectured them about good guestmanship which is a word I made up on the spot which is why they hire me to do talk shows now and then.
About the bad underpants, I bought some "irregular" underwear because the price was marked way down, usually this isn't a problem, usually this means that there is a little flaw in the sewing or maybe the tag was sewed in upside down, but this time "irregular" was understatementsville UK. The crotch was way too small and fabric bunchy giving me massive camel toe men's edition. One of my balls kept creeping up and out the wiener hole plopping out the front like a bald mans shiny head. The discomfort was compounded with embarrassment on the basketball court. What made me think that nobody would notice that my gym shorts were actually irregular cameltoe man edition underpants is beyond me. Luckily the mall was close by so I headed off to buy some new briefs. Trouble was that none of the stores carried the boxer brief style that I prefer so the trek was kinda long. Looking on the bright side, if you ever find yourself with ball splitting irregular underpants and on the hunt for replacements, just wear the offending shorts on your shopping expedition and you won't even need to ask where the underpants section is because they will direct you to it the second you walk in the door with your shiny ball sprouting out of the gathered bunch of fabric in your crotch.
When I get around really old people I like to swear way more than usual. I'm not sure why.
By the way when I was on the basketball court with my cameltoe men's edition, everyone was so distracted by my one ball hanging out that every slam dunk was missed. Yup, just get your own team some kind of testicle blinders and let one nut hang out your wiener door secret weapon steeze. Victory is yours my friend.
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