Category: General Stench

There is a lot of information available in this world of ours that disputes or contradicts the theory of evolution.  One that comes to mind is the complexity of the human mind and all of the emotions associated with humanity.  The human mind, however, is a deep subject and not one many people are willing to research or put a lot of thought into.  Apparently our minds aren’t evolved enough to comprehend the mind… or something like that.  But why make evolution so complicated?  There is a part of the human body (or at least about half of the human bodies) that is much easier to understand than the brain and proves, in my opinion, beyond a reasonable doubt that evolution is nothing more than, to be honest, a bunch of poppycock.  If you want to take on a liberal thinker and dispute their irrational theories on evolution, there is only one word that needs to come out of your mouth : testicals.

Testicles, testes, gonads, nads, cojones, juevos, balls, nuts, marbles, twins, “the boys”; whatever you call them, there is no single ( er, double?) organ of the body that goes further to disprove the theory of evolution than the testicles.  If you dispute this, you have never been kicked in the balls.  Anyone who has had his testicles touched in any way, shape, or form that is not with the greatest of tenderness knows that the testicles are an organ that really should be located somewhere inside the body… and not just on a cold day.

According to the theory of evolution, we have opposable thumbs thanks to many small changes in in our DNA over many thousands of years due to influence and pressures from our surroundings.  There was this little fish/reptile thingie that crawled out of the primordial stew that was one of our earliest ancestors.  This little fishy cousin of ours (from here-on referred to as Larry… and Larry refers to all ancestors of man) was the first to make the break from living in the water to living to land.

Larry had to adjust and evolve to his new surroundings.  As inadequacies were found in Larry’s  physical make-up, his internal workings registered the need for improvements and, over time, his DNA changed.  So,  Larry developed opposable thumbs.  Larry also grew hair on his body to protect him from cold weather.  Larry learned to walk upright on two feet.  As Larry learned to use clothes, the hair became less important and, on most of Larry’s descendants, hair is only in a few varying places around the body.  The amount and location  of these hairy spots change over the course of a human’s lifetime, which also shows that evolution is a bunch of phewy… we lose an inordinate amount of heat through our head, and as we age we need to conserve more body heat, so old guys lose hair on their head and in turn lose more body heat which results in premature death through balding… yet the inside of men’s noses and ears stay nice and toasty due to the new hair that sprouts in these areas as we age!?!

Thanks for nothing, Larry!

Anywho… you can’t tell me with a straight face that one of the first things Larry did as he climbed naked out of the water and made his “one small step for mankind” wasn’t introducing “the boys” to some inconvenient obtrusion that he tried to walk over.  Can’t you just see it?  Little Larry crawling out of the water and looking at the beauty of the land before him; the fine sand of the beach between his toes, the warm sun beating down on his back, the small rock in front of him that he just knowshe can walk over… WHAM! right in the cojones… and Larry doubles over in pain!

And we have opposable thumbs?

When Larry racked himself for the first time, he wasn’t thinking about opposable thumbs.  He wasn’t thinking about the need to pick things up.  He was thinking about how not to vomit from the intense pain that was created by the rough treatment his marbles had just endured!  Larry’s internal workings should have immediately started on a resolution to this problem.  His internal workings should have said the following, “I need one of two things to happen: either suck the nads up somewhere in the body where they are safe from harm, or grow me some kind of permanent codpiece!”

I spoke with a co-worker of mine about my idea to share my opinions on testicles, and this coworker told me that my observations were irrelevant.  “Sperm has to be maintained at a certain temperature in order to survive,” he told me.

Ok, so here I am thinking about how incomprehensible it is that a kangaroo can grow a pouch to support its offspring in one of the most secure environments known to man, and yet, through the evolutionary process, man has not found a way to make his sperm a little more tempature-tolerant… or found a way to add a little “air conditioning”… for “the boys.”

Yet here we are, thousands of years later, with one (or two) of the most sensitive of all internal organs dangling freely between the legs of most men.

DANGLING FREELY!

I realize that America’s Funniest Home Videos would probably not be in existence if it weren’t for the obligatory nut-shot… but I could do without America’s Funniest Home Videos!

So, if evolution did not lead to the formation of the twin brothers swinging between the legs of most men… what did?  Well, it’s obvious!  It was a God with a wicked sense of humor…  which will be the subject of the next post 🙂

It’s that time of the year; it’s the dreaded flu season.  Most of my life, I have been able to avoid the flu.  I guess I must have been blessed with an unusually healthy immune system… that is until this year.  I guess approaching 40 means a rapid decrease in the ability to be immune.  As I write this post, my entire family is touched by the flu (except for my oldest son, who seems to have inherited the immune system of my youth.)

Now, usually when one or more of the kids is sick, my wife provides the nurturing care  necessary for the boys to find their way back to full health.  It’s not that I don’t like to help, it’s just that… you know… oh, who am I kidding… I don’t like to help.  I love my boys, but I’m a guy.  I hate dealing with whining, I loath the thought of catching something from them, and cleaning up puke in the middle of the night will, in each and every instance, lead to me puking myself!

Well, with our current bout with the flu, my wife has it pretty bad, and so does our 6 year-old.  The wife has to take care of him all day, so I have relented and agreed to watch after him at night (he’s usually too fevered to whine and I’m already sick, so I ain’t gonna catch what I already got.)  Yes, there has been the cleaning-of-the-puke at around 2 in the morning for much of this week, but, being sick myself, I find that I feel somewhat better after the puking that follows the cleaning-of-the-puke of my son, so it all works out.

I do want to point out that giving chocolate to a sick child before bed when that child is likely to throw up at night and that child has a light colored carpet in his room is not a good idea.  The first night it was Oreos, and it took a fair amount of bleach and a more than fair amount of elbow-grease to get the black sludge out of the carpet.

“Did you give the boy chocolate before bed last night?” I asked the wife the next morning.

“He had some Oreos,” she replied.  “Why?”

“Well, chocolate puke is hard to clean up…”

“He was hungry, and I’m sick, and the Oreos were handy, so sue me!”

“Not a big deal,” I whispered, ending the conversation.

The next night, a second volley of black ooze from the bowels of hell, more bleach (thank God for synthetic-fibered carpet), and more elbow grease.

The next morning, I sheepishly asked my wife about the boys before-bed snack.

“He helped himself to a Rice Krispie treat from the snack cabinet.”

Together we walked into his room and checked his garbage can.  There, in the center of a pile of disgustingly-used Kleenexes rested the bright blue metallic wrapper of one CHOCOLATE Rice Krispie treat.

“Ok, fine, I’ll pay more attention to what he eats before bed!” my wife assured me.

The next night, the puke was relatively clear.  Cleaning up this night’s puke was a joy, because I could feel the love of my wife in the work.

The next morning, I noticed a melted, untouched ice cream sandwich on a plate on the dining room table… an ice cream sandwich with vanilla ice cream and CHOCOLATE wafers.

“Uh, what’s this,” I asked the wife while pointing at the melted black and white glob of waste on the plate.

“Oh, that was the boy’s before-bed snack last night,” she said.  “Guess he didn’t want it.  Why?”

“Never mind…”

Last night was a nice night for the boy and I.  He did not puke.  He fell asleep on the the living room couch, so I slept awhile in the recliner.  He looked so peaceful on the couch that I didn’t want to move him.  We both woke up a couple of hours later with fevers.  I felt quite chilled.  I decided I would carry him to his bed and give him some Tylenol.  As soon as I picked him up, I could feel the fevered-warmth radiating from his tiny body; it felt good.

After placing him in his bed, I begrudgingly turned to get the boy his Tylenol.

“Dad,” his weak voice whispered.

“Yeah, Buddy.”

“Will you lay with me for awhile?”

“I love you, Son,” I said as I snuggled up with his little radiator of a body.

We both fell asleep for who knows how long.  When I finally woke up, my fever was gone and his was at an all-time high.  Feeling like a horrible parent (yet strangely comfortable), I went to get the boy his Tylenol.

Now that flu season actually has an impact on me personally, I have come to realize that I may need to work on my sensitivity.  I have also learned that I may need to, during this time of the year, remove all traces of chocolate from the house.

Well, I think I better wrap this post up.  I can feel my fever coming back and the chills are really kicking in.  I skipped giving the boy his Tylenol before bed.  I got me a “heated” bed with a Cars comforter, a ton of stuffed animals, and not much spare room calling my name