Male Genitalia. Man Parts. Boy Bits. Schlong. Wang. Ding-a-ling. Penis. Twig and Berries. Junk. Package. Wiener. Meat and Two Veg. Tool. Johnson. Little General. Peepee. Weewee. Yoohoo. Dink.
The penis. I like it a lot. They come in all different shapes and sizes. Easy enough to operate. Some work better than others of course. I find it's nice to have one around when you want it but wouldn't want to necessarily own one. As a girl, I did however find it fascinating how much pain could be inflicted on a boy via the 'privates'. Yes I was a nasty sadistic thing. But in my defense, I didn't understand or maybe even believe that it was as painful as you boys said it was. However, in hindsight, I don't feel so bad about it because guys like sacking each other more than girls ever liked sacking boys. If you don't believe me, just watch Jackass. So during a large part of my elementary school career I kicked, kneed, smacked, punched and once even poled (yes poled ) many a prepubescent package.
The point of all this is that I always found a guy getting hit in the nads...hilarious. Yes it's true that it was always a good threat in the school yard. It can be used both offensively and defensively. But when it came down to it getting someone below the belt made me laugh. And I continued to inflict pain and laugh until I experienced two things that resulted in the same end. Now I don't remember which one happened first but I have equally clear memories of them both.
I had and awesome bike with a sparkly green banana seat. This bike was great for riding someone double. They could sit on the seat with you, back to back, and hold on to the end of the banana seat for balance. I think it may have even had a place to put your feet so they didn't dangle.
His name was Adrian. I think he was my most recent victim.
I don't know why I kicked him that day but the moment he caught his breath he quickly retaliated with a very swift and powerful knee to my crotch.
"How do YOU like it?!" he yelled.
I stopped hurting boys that day. I started empathizing with them instead. But I never stopped thinking it was funny. I just don't think that stuff ever gets old.
What? Not funny enough?
Boy am I glad to be a girl.