My balls turned 40 today.
In the days leading up to my birthday, people have been asking me this question; “how does it feel to be turning 40?”
That’s a pretty hard question to answer truthfully. I know it’s kind of a rhetorical one. Taking in to account our inherent selfish nature as human beings, I’m almost positive that nobody actually gives a flying fuckazoo how I feel about turning 40.
I know I certainly don’t.
I feel the same as I did when I turned 39.
Years are not always the best way to gauge how a person feels.
When you ask a person how they feel about turning a year older, you need to clarify whether you’re inquiring about how they feel physically or mentally.
Physically, I feel 60 years old.
I know there are plenty of 60 year-old gentlemen out there that say they feel 40.
I call bullshit.
I don’t understand if that’s supposed to mean that they feel young or just younger than 60. That never makes any sense to me personally, because if I feel 60 at the age of 40, then most likely I’ll feel 80 when or if I turn 60.
In other words, if you ask me when I’m 60, how it feels to be 60 and my answer happens to be 40, in theory, if my reasoning is accurate and my answer is truthful, I would actually feel 60. If this happens to be the case, then I would actually feel my age; which is a good thing I suppose.
Mentally I feel 40.
Again, I’m not sure what that means or why someone other than myself would care but thanks for asking.
Author’s note: If you are reading this post out loud to someone other than your pet or an imaginary friend, please stop here. You will sound silly and lose any and all credibility you have garnered from that said person over the years.
But the first thing that popped up in my 40 year-old mind, when I woke up this morning, were my balls.
I have 40 year-old balls.
Aside from the thought being absolutely disgusting, (even to me) it probably describes how I feel, more than anything else I can put in to words.
When a man comes to the realization that he has 40 year-old balls, his life sort of flashes in front of him to a certain extent.
Balls are important.
I’ve always worn my balls on my sleeve.
Balls define a man from the moment he leaves the womb.
A man’s balls are his source of strength.
They are his life force.
Many great wars throughout history have been won and lost as a direct result of balls.
More than any other anatomical appendage on a man, his balls are most precious.
Balls are the very essence of a man’s purpose.
Balls create life.
When I thought about my 40 year old balls this morning, I thought about my life. I thought about how full it was. I thought about my family. Thought about my friends. I thought about my career.
Then I thought about how I got here.
I have used my balls for good and not evil.
But now my balls are 40 and they have lost a fair amount of their power.
Science teachers have 40 year-old balls. Retired football players have 40 year-old balls. Old men that swim at the YMCA have 40 year-old balls.
How can this be? Where did the time go?
What is my purpose in life going forward, now that my balls are becoming obsolete and my ball-powers are fading.
God only knows.
So please don’t ask me how it feels to be 40.
Ask my balls…