The best is when the 90 yr old guy on oxygen, with his gaggle of danglers, gathers around my bench press, where I can observe said scroti waving in the wind.

Hark! I hear a hork coming!

Look, I may be 67 tomorrow (which kindly, I am going to celebrate today by punching out as close to 100 men’s pushups as I can, two days ago it was 80, stay tuned) but…I celebrate the presence of oldsters.

But kindly, boys, pack ’em away. Just, pack ’em away. And in all fairness, and with respect, plenty of rookies do the same. Damned thing.

Young testicles, old testicles, please boys, there’s a damned good reason they’re hidden. They’re butt ugly.

Written by

Horizon Huntress, prize-winning author, adventure traveler, boundary-pusher, wilder, veteran, aging vibrantly. I own my sh*t. Let’s play!

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