Today is the day.
Yes...it's Vasectomy Day.
My personal D-Day.
In approximately 4 hours, my twins will be excavated. Ugh.
In preparation for Vasectomy Day, I've done the following:
2) Shaved my nutsack
3) Applied Britney Spears new perfume to said nutsack to make this a pleasurable experience for the doctor
4) Bought a jock strap
I hadn't worn a jock strap since Little League...where I was a 120 pound eight year old, who managed one hit in his entire 3-year career.
My most memorable moment in Little League was hitting a grand slam (completely by accident). I then watched as my mother - who was so surprised that her little tub-o-lard could actually motivate himself to run without food as a reward - leap out of her chair, trip, and tumble down the hill where all the moms and dads were sitting...rolling into the fence surrounding my dugout and damn near breaking her hip.
So I took my son to the local Wal-Mart in search of a jock strap. Nothing more embarrassing than asking the GUN GUY where the jock straps are...you see, he was probably teased by jocks in High School, and is damn near ready to take you out.
I didn't actually see anything called a "jock strap." The closest thing was "Full Supporter with Cup." Okay, I'll get the cup one..it's all they had. I was told to get two because of, well, seepage.
I have a 32-inch waist, so I pondered between the 28-32 inch waist, and the 32-36 inch waist. I went with the smaller one...as the object is to keep your junk in TIGHT after the operation. They don't want your berries jumping around like they're in a swing dancing competition.
Anyway, since it's important to let your child participate in things to feel involved, I let him carry the supporters.
...which he dropped at the checkout line...busting the container open...and shooting two nut-cups across the floor...scattering throughout the line of the people behind me. This then forced me to go "cup hunting" through the crowd...who was obviously afraid to touch the damn things to help me. I mean, it's where my junk is going to go...no one wants anything to do with THAT.
I got home, and tried one on.
Should have went with the bigger size.
I basically looked like a watermelon being stuffed into sausage casing. My package was somehow shoe-horned into the cup...my muffin-top spilling over the 28-32 inch waistband.
My wife went out last night and got me an actual jock strap. Normal size.
This one isn't the whole "underwear with cup" thing...it's basically a thong with a cloth area for hiding your package.
I tried it on. My junk was once again stuffed into a tiny little hammock. The back-end of the jock strap kind of went around my hairy ass like a two-strap thong.
I looked at my wife who was adjusting it from behind.
"Sexy?" I asked her.
She looked up at me...my hairy little ass staring at her face a mere three inches away...
"Not so much."
Wish me luck. This time tomorrow, I'll be fully intimate with a frozen bag of peas.