Maybe My Balls Are On Tour With Lady GaGa

I recently proclaimed the following about the possibility of my fiancée going to a Lady GaGa concert for her bachelorette party:

“I am so jealous.”

I have to go make sure Lady GaGa doesn’t sew my balls into her costume.

Interview With Heidi Montag's Former Manager/Psychic’s Web Site

Heidi Montag fired her manager/psychic last week. I decided to interview him to see if he could help me as my manager/psychic/ball wrangler. And since I have no way to actually interview this guy, I used information from his web site for all of his answers. (aidenchase.com)

Me: Mr. Chase, I know you were Heidi's manager/psychic for only 7 days, but were you able to impart any wisdom into Heidi's life in that short time?

Aiden Chase: I am Aiden Chase.

Me: And we’re off to a great start. Aiden, explain a little bit of what you’d do for me as my manager/psychic.

Mr. Chase: I am a healer and intuitive. I believe in light and love. My psychic gifts include clairvoyance, clairaudience, and clairsentience. Joining and participating with us on every healing are the angelic forces of light and love, healing and protection; ancient Native American spirit healers; your ancestors and passed-on family who choose to help guide us in your healing. In addition, I use many ancient world and inter-dimensional energy healing techniques and modalities including energetic calibration, powerful and sacred rocks, crystals, touch, sound, aroma and music.

Me: Wow. That sounds really lame. Is that what you wanted me to think?

Mr. Chase: Free yourself from negative life history and bring yourself closer to your soul's purpose and life intention.

Me: OK, Mr. Chase, I’m still a little stuck on what you do. What did you do with Heidi?

Mr. Chase: The process I use is called the laying-on of hands or spiritual healing. I am a channel for healing energy. Together we connect to the light healing force of love.

Me: So you had sex with her. Good work, now tell me about what you could do for me as my manager/psychic, because I do not want to have sex with you.

Mr Chase: Although this sounds mysterious or religious, it is neither. All humans have an energy field or aura that surrounds and interpenetrates the physical body…

Me: It sounds a little bit like you're going to try to f*ck me.

Mr. Chase: Ultimately, healing is connecting to yourself... your spirit's or soul's purpose. Remember, I look deep inside to reveal what the soul is asking for.

Me: I’m sorry Mr. Chase, now it sounds like you’re going to f*ck my soul. I have to go.

Mr. Chase with a crystal

Twins vs Red Sox - 24 Days Away!

I just got my tickets in the mail for the opening series at brand new Target Field! It'll be just my 2nd outdoor MLB game! As you can see by all the exclamation points, I am very excited!

Wedding Idea From Surly Coworker

My Surly Coworker, who is also a groomsman, approached me with a wedding idea. He wants us to "jort it up"...

Ever What?

Ever walk into the bathroom, see a coworker you don't like very well standing at the urinal, and you don't want to pee next to him and/or talk to him, and there's only one other urinal right next to him, so you go into the stall and since you don't want to pee in the stall, you just wait until the guy is done, but he takes a long time because of his bad prostate, then someone else walks in and the original guy is done, but now the new guy is peeing, so you wait and wait, then the new guy gets done and has to blow his nose and wash his coffee cup, then he dries his coffee cup and finally leaves, leaving you free to come out and pee at the urinal?

Yeah...neither have I.

Spring Break!

If you look super close at the photo below, you will eventually see a monkey. Once you see the monkey, you should be able to see the leash and the hand holding the leash. The hand of a man, I’m assuming. A man whom I hate, not because I’m jealous, well, not 100% because I’m jealous, but just because in my world, only a real douche bag walks a monkey around as a tool to meet women on a Cancun beach filled with 19-year-old college girls…oh, wait a minute, I have just changed my mind in mid-post. This has never happened before…this man is now my hero. Seriously, he is using a monkey on a leash to meet 19-year-old American college girls on a beach in Mexico! Well done.

The Snow Won't Be Gone Long

For those of you in the upper Midwest...Only 8 months left until the snow comes back!
Do your best to withstand the upcoming months of snowless days and nights. Soon you'll be back on the slopes, and back shoveling the walk.

Here’s what it looked like about a month ago and what it will soon return to:

Chocolate Eclair Walleye?

The following photo did not come from another web site, or from an email forward from my grandma, I was going through the drive-through at Culver’s the other day and snapped a photo of their sign advertising Today’s Flavor:

CHOCOLATE ECLAIR
WALLEYE IS BACK

I’m almost positive they are advertising two distinct items, but the way it looks, it does make you think…Is Chocolate Éclair Walleye back? Is it possible they put together these two yummy foods into one mouth-watering taste explosion?..then took it away, then brought it back?...all without me knowing about it?

Tech Support Took My Balls

There's a program at work I need to log into maybe once a week. Last week it forced me to change my password...and this week I forgot what it was. With no luck finding it written down somewhere, I wrote an email to Mat, one of those weaselly tech support guys who thinks he's better than anybody who owns just one computer.

Unfortunately, my balls decided to leave me before writing the email, and out spewed the following, spineless, self-deprecating email:

Mat,

When I changed my password last week, I had little foresight and did not save it in my browser, and stupidly did not write it down anywhere. Since I have so many passwords, my tiny brain couldn’t keep this one contained. I know, I’m a moron, and shouldn’t be allowed near a computer. I know you are very important, very busy, and have 10 computers going at once, but if you can spare a minute of your hectic day, could you send me my password? I am so sorry for causing this inconvenience.

OK, so it didn’t have those exact words, but it was close. If I still had my balls, I would’ve simply said this:

Mat ,
Could you please send me my password?
Thanks.

Or:

Mat – I need my password ASAP.

Or even:

Mat…drank too much this weekend…forgot my password.
Thanks bro!

Or:

Mat,
Wild weekend…lost my wallet at a donkey show in Mexico. My password was in there.

Mr. Rooney Goes to the Bathroom

Here is a never-before-seen Andy Rooney report on public bathrooms.

Ever been in one of these public bathrooms? It’s a big tiled room with sinks, urinals and stalls. Sometimes the urinals have nothing separating them, sometimes there’s a small partition in between. That partition never seems to be high enough. Most of the time you’re able to look over the partition and right down at the guy next to you, so why have the partition there at all? Most of these bathrooms have at least 2 stalls with doors where you can sit and do your business, but I’ve seen some stalls that don’t have doors at all. Why would a stall not have a door? Are they still called "stalls" if it doesn't have a door?

When I'm sitting in a stall, and someone's at the urinal, I try to guess the size of their penis by the sound their stream makes. I wonder if there is a connection between penis size and the heaviness of the stream. It makes sense to me that the bigger the penis, the bigger the hole, and the bigger the stream, but I can’t be sure.

And what about these automatic sinks? I put my hands under the faucet and nothing comes out, then I take them away and the water starts, but by the time I put my hands back under the faucet, the water stops. I just can’t time it right.

In my day, we didn’t worry about all these germs. I never heard of someone dying of urine germ infection. We just wiped our hands on our pants and went on with the day.

Groomzilla

I’m pretty sure my balls are hanging out at the bridal shop. My controlling ways have gotten me in trouble again. Somehow, I’ve ended up being way more involved in planning our wedding than most men care to be, and the other day I ended up yelling at my fiancee, “Do you even want to get married?”

The details are not important. What is important is that I hop on my pink Hannah Montana-branded bicycle, ride over to the bridal shop, and pick up my balls! I’m off...

Good Morning

This morning in line at the gas station, a woman in front of me searched her purse for a free coffee coupon, as I waited patiently behind her. The other employee peered through binoculars at a license plate. The woman finally found the coupon, handed it to the cashier, and then ordered a pack of smokes. When asked for her ID, she stated she only had a paper one, because her dog ate her actual license, to which the cashier said it’s usually her cat that does that sort of thing in her house.
So...yeah.

This Time I Mean It

In the last couple of years, I have located my balls on occasion, even keeping them for months at a time. I've become so attached to them, I proposed to my lady on New Year's Day, and we're getting married this August.

One may ask, "Are you worried about losing your balls once you get married?" And I would tell one that I'm well aware of the stereotype that men lose their balls after marriage, but I am proud to say I lost my balls years before meeting my future wife...and found them...lost them...and found them again. I now know that keeping track of my balls will be a lifelong battle, whether I'm married or not. I'm not too naive to think that getting married again won’t have an impact on my balls, but I'm going to fight through it like I always have and keep reattaching those things. After all, the alternative is giving up, and letting my balls escape forever into the wild, and I'm positive they would not survived on their own.

Here's a photo of Art Garfunkel.
He's been married twice and has expressed regret in not marrying a third woman.