A Tale of Two Testicles


Suggested Audio Jukebox:


[1] Jerry Lee Lewis “Great Balls of Fire”

[2] AC/DC “Big Balls”



I’m sick of this life. Nobody ever spares as much as a fleeting thought for testicles. We have become the forgotten gland of the 21st century; little more than excess baggage. It’s nuts if you ask me; if only people appreciated the hard work we do on a daily basis. Instead, we are cast aside mercilessly and tucked away like some kind of dirty little secret. When was the last time a group of inebriated vixens harped on about hoping their potential bed mate has a nice scrotum? Never, that’s when. Anyone would think that a penis is attractive the way they carry on but I assure you nothing could be farther from the truth. Take it from me, I’ve spent a sixty year stretch in the shade, stretch being the operative word as I now hang far closer to the knees than I ever did. Personally I can’t see what all the commotion is about; a man’s dick often hangs off center like a framed picture you keep adjusting to no avail. They ain’t all that.


I don’t mean to start on a negative but I have been backed up for too long and needed to lighten the load so to speak. The name’s Roland. Not the most dynamic name I know but I didn’t come up with it. My associate to the left is Boris. Don’t mind him, he always wakes up after me. Give it a few minutes and I’m sure he’ll be weighing in as he just can’t seem to help himself. We started out as friends way back when but more recently it has become apparant that we are simply cut from a different cloth to one another. You may have noticed I hang a good half-inch lower than Boris. Why do you think that is? I’ll tell you why. Burden, I shoulder that while he just gallavants about boasting about how he is the most contented ball in the bag. It’s alright for him; he hasn’t had to endure the personal trauma of being trapped beneath an ass cheek when your owner misreads the equilibrium of a see-saw. I’m not good with pain so I send that shit straight up to the abdomen and let it pick up the pieces.


Getting caught between the teeth of a zipper; that’s an experience I would rather forget. Again, Boris got off scot free and it was I who became snagged after my mortal enemy, pubic hair, was stretched taut after a quick whizz. It wasn’t a significant amount of my mass which became ensnared but it’s not about quantity. I practically inverted for a full week after that and my selfish owner was too embarrassed to get me checked out by a physician so he slapped a little cream on me and hoped I’d remain tight-lipped. Word to the wise kid; it hurts finding out that the one person you think cares for your well-being is too ashamed to introduce you socially. It was supposed to be a team effort; Frank hangs out at front of house while Boris and I run export from the back office. We work tirelessly and, should materials be running at a premium, we can restock in record time. Yet nobody bats an eyelid.


Then there’s copulation and that’s just a load of fuss over precious little. Once again, we are overshadowed. While Frank Schlong is milking the adulation from his adoring fans, we are left to slap about on the outside and barely get a whiff of the honeypot. It just seems mean to me. It’s alright when Frank needs to make an express delivery; we make damned sure that he is never left wanting. But the moment he pops off some sailors he loses interest entirely and only wants to snuggle back into our comfy rec room and sleep it off until morning. So I suppose it’s also our job to tidy up is it Frank? Don’t worry about Roland and Boris, they’ll be okay. No we won’t; we’ll be bitterly disappointed but we’ll still continue to honor our contract because that’s what balls do. Speaking of Boris, he just awoke from his slumber. Give him a few seconds to come to and he can give you his take on all this. I’m sure it’ll be different from how I perceive things; Boris always did look on the bright side.



Thanks Roland for putting me on the spot. I would have liked to take a shower and freshen up a little beforehand but never mind, you’re here now and that’s what counts. I would like to take this opportunity to apologize for my significant other. He gets a little testy from time to time but means well I assure you. It’s just, we don’t exactly share the same points of view if truth be known. He’s just so negative, never content, and everything’s always got to be some sort of huge drama. I swear the only time he is happy is when he has something to bitch about. I’ve tried to shake him from his slump but balls will be balls. Now I simply leave him to it; alternating duties and making sure our rotas don’t conflict. I honestly don’t know what has gotten into him of late; he didn’t use to be this crabby. He should be thankful for the work as the production line has slowed down considerably over the past decade. Not much demand for what we’re peddling anymore; sperm has become a forgotten commodity since the vasectomy.


So I assume you’ll be wondering what makes being a testicle so splendiferous? Well allow me to spill the beans. Roland likes to consider himself a bit of a socialite. There’s nothing that pleases him more than a chance to make friends and network. I, on the other hand, like my private time. I’m more self-sufficient than he; I suppose you could call me a loner and I’d actually be okay with the label. You know what my favorite song is? Me, Myself & I by De La Soul. Roland’s? Prince’s Let’s Go Crazy. You can see what I’m driving at can’t you? Frank may never have invited him up to the cockpit but that’s because he spends most of his time pleading like an infant. As for me, Frank sneaks me in so I ain’t the one slapping around in the wind. All this and I’m supposed to be the outcast. I’m not; I simply choose my moments wisely and don’t over-exert in the meantime. I’m the ball with brains you see.

“I heard that”

“Go back to sleep Roland. You’ve had your moment”

“It would seem that is innacurate. Frank’s sneaking you in is he?”

“Oh. You overheard”

“Every word my surreptitious friend. From this point onward I want nothing to do with you. You lack scruples”

“Don’t give me that bollocks. I put up with your constant whining don’t I?”

“Only because you’ve got no choice”


“I know that only too well. Why do you think I don’t want to hang with you anymore?”

“Yeah I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. What’s wrong Boris, am I not good enough for you anymore?”

“I’m just sick of your paranoid delusion”

“And I’m sick of your vow of silence. This is the most I’ve heard from you in over twenty years. Do you realize that? Twenty. Years! Do you think that’s been a picnic for me?”

“I know it must be hard”

“Hard? It’s excruciating. When that little girl in primary school gave me a playful flick did you ask even once whether I was okay? I’ll tell you the answer shall I? No. You didn’t give half a damn”

“So you’re bitter with me, is that it?”

“Does an ant piss in a pavement crack? Yes, I’m bloody furious”



“Now you’ve done it Boris”

“What do you mean now I’ve done it?”

“You’ve given Frank the right ball ache”

“Listen, we’re clearly not going to resolve anything tonight. Why don’t we just agree to go our separate ways for the rest of the evening”

“This isn’t over you know. Not by a long chalk. And don’t go thinking you’ve won. You haven’t. I’m just taking a hiatus”

“Sounds extravagant. Where are you headed for your break?”

“Here. Hmph”

“Course you are. See you in the morning Roland…douche”

“I heard that”


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