Once upon a time, a couple of friends and I were in Spain on a combined family holiday. Four of us headed out on a lads-only hike up the nearby hill and were gone for the best part of the day. Just before arriving home, my friend loudly announces that his balls are feeling kinda itchy. Predictable laddish comments ensue for a few moments, and then we think no more of it.
Until the following day. My friend informs us that he thinks his twins are a bit swollen. “Yeah fine, we don’t really care as long as you think it’s alright” kinda comments follow. And once again, the day moves quietly along.
Roll on two days. We are now back at home, same group of mates, sitting in the pub. Conversation eventually comes around to the famous gonads and having had a few beers, the conversation goes something like this:
“Oi so how are your nuts doing?”
“Mate they are soooo swollen”
“Nah they can’t still be swollen”
“Yeah they are mate”
“How big are they then?”
“About the size of a grapefruit”
“Seriously, they are”
“Well no, they’re not. You wouldn’t be able to sit down”
“Nah mate I’m serious”
“Alright show us then”
I’m trying to avoid using expletives on this blog but holy s**t. He was preaching the word of God. His testicles were literally (as in the literal meaning of literally) as large as grapefruits. F**king grapefruits!
As you might expect, the mood suddenly got quite panicked. “Why have you not gone to hospital?!?!” “The ambulance will be here in 7 minutes.” “Will they have to amputate?” etc… End of the day, it thankfully all turned out more or less fine. But sometimes you’ve really got to wonder what it (or in this case, is not) going through some people’s heads.