Nuts about cats
I’d like to take a few moments to talk about my testicles. I have grown quite attached to them, and they to me. I am also rather protective of them. I have a female Corgi/Border Collie mix, who used to have the uncanny ability to land on my tenders every time she would jump on the couch. Together we learned to avoid the twins. Now I have cats.
I am not sure how many of you are men, or have woken up with a man, but the first thing we do, typically, is scratch the boys. I think this is a prehistoric, genetic ritual which is really an excuse to make sure everything is still in place and that a saber-toothed tiger has not munched something in the night. Then there was Lorena Bobbit, which brought the ritual into the 20th century.
Anyway, in addition to the scratch, there is the subject of “morning wood” of which I have heard said; That’s why men think with their penises; (Peni? Penisi? How the hell would I know, I only have the one!) How do you outwit something that is awake 20 minutes before you are?
But back to the testicles. And the cats. Most people who have slept around cats know they will go for your toes in a heartbeat. Mine do. But if I happen to be sleeping on the couch, they ignore the toes for other targets. You guessed it, the sack. Today, for example, they are re-paving the parking lot to my apartment complex, so I was trying to sleep to the lullaby of numerous large construction machines backing up. (They seemed to only function in reverse.) Well, my living room was quieter than the bedroom, so I went there to sleep. I was awoken several times, which prompted the scratch and adjust ritual, which in turn prompted a fuzzy cannonball to the gonadual area. At one point I was amazed to discover that a seven month old kitten can launch itself over five feet in a horizontal line, with amazing accuracy. I also learned that, with a good underhand scoop, you can fling a cat onto the other chair with amazing accuracy. I also learned where the “catapult” must have gained it’s name.
I guess it is my own fault for moving under the blanket, but for goodness sake I think I should be able to handle my business in my own home!
So, I am either going to have to get a protective cup, or a tennis racket.
************************
Random fact: Spell check tried to replace my invented word “gonadual” with “gondolas.”
I am not sure how many of you are men, or have woken up with a man, but the first thing we do, typically, is scratch the boys. I think this is a prehistoric, genetic ritual which is really an excuse to make sure everything is still in place and that a saber-toothed tiger has not munched something in the night. Then there was Lorena Bobbit, which brought the ritual into the 20th century.
Anyway, in addition to the scratch, there is the subject of “morning wood” of which I have heard said; That’s why men think with their penises; (Peni? Penisi? How the hell would I know, I only have the one!) How do you outwit something that is awake 20 minutes before you are?
But back to the testicles. And the cats. Most people who have slept around cats know they will go for your toes in a heartbeat. Mine do. But if I happen to be sleeping on the couch, they ignore the toes for other targets. You guessed it, the sack. Today, for example, they are re-paving the parking lot to my apartment complex, so I was trying to sleep to the lullaby of numerous large construction machines backing up. (They seemed to only function in reverse.) Well, my living room was quieter than the bedroom, so I went there to sleep. I was awoken several times, which prompted the scratch and adjust ritual, which in turn prompted a fuzzy cannonball to the gonadual area. At one point I was amazed to discover that a seven month old kitten can launch itself over five feet in a horizontal line, with amazing accuracy. I also learned that, with a good underhand scoop, you can fling a cat onto the other chair with amazing accuracy. I also learned where the “catapult” must have gained it’s name.
I guess it is my own fault for moving under the blanket, but for goodness sake I think I should be able to handle my business in my own home!
So, I am either going to have to get a protective cup, or a tennis racket.
************************
Random fact: Spell check tried to replace my invented word “gonadual” with “gondolas.”
posted by Eric the Something at 11/09/2005 12:24:00 AM
3 Comments:
Just the other day, I was watching my man handle his in the shower. Like, really, really handle them. Finally I asked if he was just about done,a nd he realized that I was watching intently.
"Oops, just scratching" he said.
"You were not just scratching, you were enjoying."
There's no denying it. Men do like their balls.
Why don't you spray your underwear with that stuff they make to stop pets from gnawing on the furniture?
I was reading one of the online comics I follow and this one seemed exceptionally fitting.
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