Testicles... no not "testicles" but TEST-Uh-Clees (Rhymes with Hercules)

So... Gary has crotch rot. Sexy, yes? I swear I'm going to tell him it is due to lack of use. I'll tell him that those things rust and fall off without proper usage. Though I'll wait until said rot clears up.

I feel compelled to share that the man got it due to his arduous schedule of physical training (PTing) for the Army. Add that to the whole humidity factor here, the fact he was PTing in his uniform a few weeks ago for a few days (rather than in his comfy PT outfit) and it's a recipe for crotch rot.

Well today we had the following conversation:

G: It's getting worse.
L: Go to sick call, Honey.
G. Can't. Have school. I'll suck it up.
L: I have an idea. I'll take a picture of it and post it on the board for one of the nurses to figure out. Or you know, one of the other girls. They're smart women.
G: WHAT?
L: Sure, you know they want to see your crotch. Who doesn't?"
G: Somehow I thought my porn career would have a bit more of an auspicious beginning.

HA! So the girls offered a few solutions. This evening before bed he decided to apply the Lotrimin AF. Rather than coming out and asking where the ointment was, he bounds into the room exclaiming "Here I am!! Gary Rotten Crotch! I have been annointed!" I about died laughing. I get out the goop for him and leave him to his own devices. About 10 minutes later, he comes walking -- Charlie Chaplin style -- into the living room. WITHOUT ANY PANTS. I just kept reading blogs. This isn't sooo werid compared to many things he does. Then he says in a loud, booming voice...

"I AM TESTICLES. GOD OF ALL THINGS CROTCH. DO NOT CROSS ME HUMANS FOR I WILL SMITE THEE WITH MY BALLS OF FIRE."

That, my friends, is what I'm married to. I love that goofball... balls of fire or not.