What the long-balls is happening, all you old weathered meat-slingers who are morosely winding your age-lengthened scrotum around your thigh, trying not to cry as you mourn the day you once had a tight attractive nutsack, a few hours later you’re in a helicopter seeing the city with a bunch of tourists, they’re all gabbling excitedly but you can’t enjoy yourself because all you can think about is your pendulous clit-hammers (that’s for when you’re hitting it from the back, if you know you know), suddenly the pilot starts screaming the engine’s out, holy fuck start jerking off now because WE’RE ALL ABOUT TO FUCKING DIE YOU MIGHT AS WELL GET ONE IN, a steely flash runs through your eyes and you’re like no the fuck we’re NOT, you rip off your pants and unwind them balls, just as the helicopter starts plunging downward you chuck your scrotum out the window and it thwip-thwip-thwips around a high-rise gargoyle, you hold onto the base of your nuts, Spiderman style, titanic effort showing across your face as you save everyone from becoming instant street pizza, sweat breaks out across your brow as people start massaging you and feeding you grapes, offering the sloppiest of blowjays because you’re goddamn hero—
And THAT, my friends, is why you should be grateful for your long-ass balls! You never know when you’re gonna go on some random helicopter ride, save everyone from an instant-death plunge, then reap a shitload of massages and an on-the-spot beej! Goddamn!
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