This time of year, as it gets hotter and more humid an ugly issue raises its head- to powder the boys or not powder...
It's like having an air conditioner in your boxer briefs.
This is probably one of the main thing that separates us from the animals and lower life forms... maybe I can't like myself the way the dog can... but he'll never know the bliss of 1000 elves with roller skates made from glacial ice skating across his sack either.
I started out my addiction innocently enough. I had read a recommendation about using footpowder when you were on long hikes or runs. Since I live where it's approximately eleventy billion degrees during the summer, the idea seemed to have merit. So I bought a bottle of medicated foot powder and gave it a couple of trials. I didn't notice a huge difference... mostly I think, due to my summer hiking boots being made from a well ventilated, breathable mesh. There wasn't any negative or down side, but it didn't strike me as a great improvement either. Your results may vary if you're wearing heavier boots- especially work boots that may not be as breathable..... but back to my nuts.
It can get a little swampy in the groinital area when you walk around outside in the southern heat and humidity. Even something simple like walking your dog in the morning can leave you stickier that a kid turned loose in a cotton candy factory.
So being the adventurous type that I am, I was eyeing the bottle of foot powder and the thought was always in the back of my mind... "What would happen if I rubbed some of that on my nut sack"?? I sure that a common thought amongst males of our species... but this time it was a purely defensive move.
I needed to protect the boys.
So I did it. I when into the bathroom and strategically hovered above the bowl so I could give 'em a good dusting. I turned the top of the powder bottle to it's 'dusting' position and gave it a few squeezes to ensure an even, uniform coating. Than a few pats to ensure we had adequate covering way up in the rafters. Mission completed, I walked back toward my office when the sensations started. At first it's a mild, barely noticeable rustling in the general jimmy area.
Then it progresses to feeling like a slight cooling breeze. As you bask in the growing feeling of contentment from the residents of the former swamp front property, it segues into a cold front blowing through.
It's like snow on a 100 degree July day, but without the ironic chorus.
Like a coming storm blowing through... first there's a slight rustling, and then you feel the breeze begin to pick up momentum and velocity. Then there's the crack of lightning and the downpour starts!
It becomes a glorious torrent of coolness... emanating from your own personal man-cave.
With this type of technology on our side, no wonder we beat the Soviet Union!!
Now as wonderful as this all sounds - and it is in fact wonderful to have an icy cool mansack in the middle of a Mexican desert- I fear that the sensation is addicting.
At first, I was happy with just one powdering a day.
Then I started sneaking in a quick powder session after lunch. I'd sneak my little stash into the restroom and do it up while I hid in a stall... hoping no one ever walked in and discovered my little secret. Then I started to have a 'little relaxer' when I got done with dinner. I told myself “it’s just a little bit, and besides, you've earned it".... so I'd dust after dinner. Now I'm up to 3 times a day. But it's OK- I've got this under control. ...
At some point I noticed I wasn’t getting the amazing icy massage feeling as much as I used to... I'd created scar tissue in my veins.... I soon realized they made an even stronger version that came in the blue can. One hit of the blue stuff and all the faded memories came rushing back. I was a virgin again...touched for the very first time.
I started to alternate the stronger stuff so I didn't raise my tolerance too quickly. I'd dose with the regular stuff during the day, and save the blue stuff for "special occasions"...This seems to keep my addiction manageable. A couple of doses of the regular stuff, but the 'good stuff' is only for occasional use, so I still get that fantastic sensation like I've hired my own squad of cute Filipino girls whose sole mission in life is to massage my nuggets with ice cubes wrapped in silk and then gently blow on them.
My boys have never been happier, and always seem to perk up when they know they're about to get powered.
So be good to your boys and let the ice skating gnomes take a trip or two around your wrinkly rink.