JoJo (the missus) shows me her moose knuckle and balls on a fairly regular basis.
Let me back up here.
Here’s The Thing™ – JoJo shows me pictures of moose knuckles and balls on a fairly regular basis. I know you’re probably asking yourself why a man’s wife would show him pictures of other men’s junk…and…well…I really have no answer for that. JoJo knows that, for the most part, I really don’t want to look at other people’s genitals. Especially when they’re bunched up in a cloth pouch. I’m 39-years-old now. Seeing genitals on display just makes me wish that I was asexual.
I’d get so much shit done in a day if I were asexual–just as an aside. I mean, worrying about sex and sexuality occupies too much of all of our minds.
Anyhoozles, If I send a text to JoJo that she doesn’t like (which can be anything from “I love you” to “we need to get to the store on your next day off”), she has one particular picture that she likes shooting my way.
This all started one day when JoJo and I were sitting in the living room, and she turned to me, and said “I’m texting you a picture. Tell me what’s wrong with it.” Whenever she does that, I know I’m about to see SFUS (some fucked up shit). So, my phone dings, I grab it and open my messages. Here’s what it was:
I threw my phone down and told JoJo that she was a sick motherfucker. She cackled for a long time, then asked why no one told him about his…problem.
He’s in the middle of dancing, this is flash photography, and he’s a ballet dancer. He doesn’t give a shit if you can see his…stuff. Was my answer.
So a few days went by. I forgot about Moose Knuckle Ballet Dancer. Then this happened:
JoJo let a few more days pass. I forgot about Moose Knuckle Man. Then this happened:
So…JoJo gave it a rest. But I didn’t forget this time. I knew that she was just waiting for me to feel comfortable and safe and forget all about the Bulging Ballerina.
Then it would be…BAM! BALLS IN MY TEXT MESSAGES!
Obviously, I stayed at a level of paranoia that was absolutely frightening. I didn’t trust that every text from her wasn’t going to be Moose Knuckle Madness. So, due to my paranoia, this happened:
So, JoJo was giving up on assaulting me with bulges and balls. It was very nice. But she was finding other ways to make me anxious. Finding new ways to assault my eyes every time that I opened a text from her:
Yeah. My wife is that bitch.
So, if you ever see me wandering the streets, huddled under a newspaper onesie, mumbling about “The Bulging Ballerina” and “Monkey Balls”, you know why.
Bonus info: Jolene has Betty Crack Ho toes. We’ve decided that her name is now Shalonda Dykes and she works for AT&T*.
*Thank you American Dad.
Until next time…