I wakened the other morning thinking what the hell is going on downstairs… what I found was a swollen coconut and some serious pain to boot.
Knowing I hadn’t been doing the horizontal mambo with any ladies of the night I sat in bewilderment at my trashed testi. How did this happen and is it serious were my thoughts.
A couple of painkillers down the hatch and it was time for an inspection. Nut A was twice the size of nut B and the old pouch was bright red. So bright in fact, it was lighting up the room.
Then I remembered the rough bike ride I’d taken the day before and figured I must have bashed my balls in some way.
My thoughts were give it a day or two, it must be bruised, and all would be good in the world. The swelling did go down, the brightness dulled and the pain subdued to bearable.
Then clever dick here, pardon the pun, was running late for a meeting so jumped a bike and you guessed it, smashed my scrot and I now find myself back at square one with a bollock like a balloon again.
So here I am, trying not to move as I type as the slightest movement can send a thunderbolt of pain up my entire body, considering which medical establishment I’m going to visit and donate a fistful of baht to in a hope they have a remedy for my broken bollock.
Wish me luck…