TMI Thursday: Stickage

Since Lilu decided to dispense with the whole TMI Thursday hosting, we haven't heard a whole lot about my junk, what I've been doing with it, or many of my bodily functions of late. I've decided to pick that back up since they were some of my more popular posts. Plus, why deprive the world of these miserable marvelous life experiences? I shouldn't be the only who suffers through is blessed to enjoy these foibles of my body.

I'm not a big fan of spring. About the only thing I like about spring is the storms, and I like those only because I haven't been injured in any of them, had any property destroyed (despite parking various shitty cars under trees hoping the wind brings those tall pines down *angry glower*), or the like. I guess I also enjoy the fact that the college girls dress extra slutty in these days leading up to summer break. Yes. Yes, I like that very much. *taps tips of fingers together*

The spring brings the return of mowing my grass, it gets hot, and the atmosphere is suffused with pollen. This hasn't affected me too badly since I've moved South, but the rest of my family suffers from allergies, which makes me miserable. Because I commiserate with others so well.

Now, long before I was the svelte, dapper motherfucker you see before you, I've had a problem that springs to life round this time of year. I tend to suffer from a lot of stickage.

You know, stickage.

Don't tell me you're unfamiliar.

Okay, so "stickage" is when my scroat adheres itself to the silky smooth flesh of my inner thigh. Alone, or even with the love of my life (television), this is not a problem. I reach a hand down there, fish around for a bit, fumble away, and peel the soft, velvety skin away from the inside of my groin. However, when the children are present, it's unseemly for daddy dearest to have it hands down his pants, no matter how surreptitiously I'm peeling one layer of dermis away from another.

And, besides, I'm only home and awake for a few hours of the day.

Let's think about this for a moment. I work in a lab, one that prides itself on safety (Our motto: "Everyone has ten fingers!"), we're required to wear lab coats when working in the lab. This is to go with regular work attire. While the labs are fairly well ventilated (Noxious fumes? Send them outside!), they air-handlers have issues cooling the air as it gets turned over so much. This results in winters being chilly (not a problem; I have a lab coat!), but spring, summer and fall are uncomfortably warm.

As the level of uncomfortable warmth rises, so does the occurrence of stickage. And, when I'm at work, people really from on you sticking your hand down your pants and fumbling your nuts away from the inside of your thigh.

And here's the curious thing: about 90% of the time, the stickage is on the right side of my sack. I don't know what the deal is, but this is the side of my body where my Balzac is most likely to meld with my leg. There's nothing abnormal about that side; my right nut hangs lower than my left (apparently, that's common, since I'm a righty). That's the only thing I can find that's different about the right side of my manhammer; believe me, I've investigated. At length.

When the stickage happens at work, it's most unpleasant because I can't manually extract myself from myself--though I am typically wearing gloves, so at least I have the correct protective equipment. I'll be standing there, working on the next wonderdrug, when suddenly I'll feel that unwelcome tug on the inside of my shorts. I then spend the next five minutes gyrating and hopping from one leg to the other, trying to part my thighs far enough that my coinpurse peels itself off the inner portions of my leg.

Annoying hardly

Thusly, spring is not the time of rebirth for me. Spring is the time to invest in yet some more talcum powder. Because, you know, it's always good to be caught with a large amount of an unknown, white, powdery substance...

Oh, the things I'll do to avoid my nutsack from annealing itself to my inner thighs.