The ordeal of monotesticularity
Bleary eyed, I got onto a nearly empty District line train early this morning to go to Central London for my internship. Suffering from what the French might call la guele du bois fumé, I tried my best to enter that mode of Zen concentration attainable only to the prodigiously serene or the massively hung-over. Still, in the midst of my meditation I was rudely interrupted by a pair of women blathering away in a glottal stop-riddled Cockney twang about a recent sexual enocunter.
Normally, the English are pretty tight-lipped on the Underground with strangers, but on empty trains they often have no compunctions speaking about the intimate details of their personal lives. This is especially true for the young, and even more so for the East-End/Essex Boy/Chav connections. So, I found myself flitting between void and consciousness, listening to one girl, no more than 16, talking about a recent 'shag' she had. Some poor geezer named Jimmy had managed to bag this bird at the boozer and was snogging away wif her at the bar. Then he offered her a bit of Charley, and so off to the toilet they go where they do a couple of lines and then start snogging anew. Things proceed nicely until this girl went to give young Jimmy a wank when it emerges that things downstairs were not entirely in order for this barmey bloke . In the immortal words of the girl: "...'e only 'ad won li'le bi' in the bollocks." Translation: Jimmy was an oddball.
This was not my first run-in with the concept of monotesticularity. At my first high school, the star all-State quarterback was a kid in my grade named Mac. Known for his quick wittedness on the field and his uncanny ability to slip through the opponent's line, our nimble, fearless leader was one of the first kids from our now burgeoning football powerhouse to earn a full ride to a Division I school. But beyond these distinctions on the field, our quarterback was perhaps best known for only having one testicle. As the story goes, he was born with a set of three testes, and as he approached puberty the doctors consulted his parents and told them that they might be able to remove the third gonad as it might cause physical (not to mention psychological) problems later on in life. So, as the process was underway there was a slip of the wrist and it turned out that two of the testicles had to be removed, leaving just one of his prized family jewels in place. Being that the athletic accolades showered upon him on a regular basis didn't go to his head, making him a pretty decent guy, nobody gave him shit about it at my school. On the field, however, he ws taunted about this feature of his anatomy to no end, and no doubt it transpired in his college playing days as well.
What with the slander no doubt circulating around Barking or Bow or wherever about poor Jimmy One-Nut, I can only hope that he has the fortitude to face the inevitable snickers and jibes that are going to follow in the wake of this incident. Rumors like these, even those that are false, will continue to dog people for ages (see Adolf Hitler and the longevity of the Billy-Goat Bite Theory). So, let us all say a prayer for Jimmy and his monotesticular bretheren: may ye have the strength of character to persevere, regardless of the slings and arrows of cruel adolescent teasing; may ye be a rock in the face of whithering criticism of your diminished manhood; and may ye follow the way of the Lord such that one day, God willing, you may enter the pearly gates of Heaven, and, nodding to Saint Peter as you pass beneath, be reunited with the long lost gonad from which you were so cruelly deprived. Amen.
Normally, the English are pretty tight-lipped on the Underground with strangers, but on empty trains they often have no compunctions speaking about the intimate details of their personal lives. This is especially true for the young, and even more so for the East-End/Essex Boy/Chav connections. So, I found myself flitting between void and consciousness, listening to one girl, no more than 16, talking about a recent 'shag' she had. Some poor geezer named Jimmy had managed to bag this bird at the boozer and was snogging away wif her at the bar. Then he offered her a bit of Charley, and so off to the toilet they go where they do a couple of lines and then start snogging anew. Things proceed nicely until this girl went to give young Jimmy a wank when it emerges that things downstairs were not entirely in order for this barmey bloke . In the immortal words of the girl: "...'e only 'ad won li'le bi' in the bollocks." Translation: Jimmy was an oddball.
This was not my first run-in with the concept of monotesticularity. At my first high school, the star all-State quarterback was a kid in my grade named Mac. Known for his quick wittedness on the field and his uncanny ability to slip through the opponent's line, our nimble, fearless leader was one of the first kids from our now burgeoning football powerhouse to earn a full ride to a Division I school. But beyond these distinctions on the field, our quarterback was perhaps best known for only having one testicle. As the story goes, he was born with a set of three testes, and as he approached puberty the doctors consulted his parents and told them that they might be able to remove the third gonad as it might cause physical (not to mention psychological) problems later on in life. So, as the process was underway there was a slip of the wrist and it turned out that two of the testicles had to be removed, leaving just one of his prized family jewels in place. Being that the athletic accolades showered upon him on a regular basis didn't go to his head, making him a pretty decent guy, nobody gave him shit about it at my school. On the field, however, he ws taunted about this feature of his anatomy to no end, and no doubt it transpired in his college playing days as well.
What with the slander no doubt circulating around Barking or Bow or wherever about poor Jimmy One-Nut, I can only hope that he has the fortitude to face the inevitable snickers and jibes that are going to follow in the wake of this incident. Rumors like these, even those that are false, will continue to dog people for ages (see Adolf Hitler and the longevity of the Billy-Goat Bite Theory). So, let us all say a prayer for Jimmy and his monotesticular bretheren: may ye have the strength of character to persevere, regardless of the slings and arrows of cruel adolescent teasing; may ye be a rock in the face of whithering criticism of your diminished manhood; and may ye follow the way of the Lord such that one day, God willing, you may enter the pearly gates of Heaven, and, nodding to Saint Peter as you pass beneath, be reunited with the long lost gonad from which you were so cruelly deprived. Amen.
posted by Det. John Kimble at 14:32
4 Comments:
Typical outstanding narrative style aside (clap clap clap), I cannot feel but disturbed from this story. The doc told me that I was at high risk (also of stomach/colon cancer, which I gotta go get checked in the week). Fkin a'.
when fed's colon hurts does that mean he has a headache?
I wonder if it's the same "anonymous" from my site who follows me around cyberspace
I hereby ask the moderator of this esteemeed website not to further tollerate these cheap smearing posts against Fedward Hyde!
Post a Comment
<< Home