FUNNY STORY # 1

I went to the shoppin' centre today where I was nearly crippled - at least temporarily.

I'm a busy man. I work long hours and the Boys just have to wait until I'm finished, but I don't take it lightly and do my best to get back asap to let them out for a leak, stretch their legs etc.

So when in shoppin' centres, I tend to rush through the 'traffic' much in the same way I do when I'm on a motorbike in vehicular traffic. Duckin' and weavin', treating the other people like obstacles around which I need to navigate. Twistin' and bendin'. Stopin and startin, speedin up and slowin down...got it? Good.

For the most part, I'm rather expert at it and can move through the throng with ease. However, there are risks. And these come in the form of women who veritably march with a purpose. And when people march, they swing their arms - also with a purpose. I have no idea why women do it though.
Regardless of my ignorance - they do. And here we get to the crux.

I'm speeding through the crowds of people, shoppin' tolleys, prams, slothful old people, like a whirling dervish, concentrating on a route. Left, duck. Right, twist. Accelerate, brake, stop, turn, accelerate again...
And I come upon a group of girls 'marching'. (Though it's only in hindsight I remember...). No problem to Muttars. I go for the gap and 'BANG!!'
One of the girls' seemingly out of control swinging appendages slams into my groin like the hammer of Thor!
Now, I don't know if women know this but the Big Man in all his wisdom has incorporated a time lag system in a man's nuts. This means, after one has been cracked in them, it takes about 5-10 seconds before the nausea sets in (presumably to give the victim time to go and collapse somewhere...), followed quickly thereafter by the pain. Oh, the pain, the weakness in the legs, the urge to curl up and die.

Anyway, the 'perp' obviously doesn't realise the damage she has done and offers a quick but embarrassed 'sorry'. I know exactly what's coming (pain, nausea etc.) and mumble something like 's'ok, don worry bout it' or something similar and quickly make use of the 5-10 seconds of grace the Almighty has thoughtfully provided (further evidence that God is indeed a man - a woman clearly wouldn't think of such a thing) to swiftly exit the scene to somewhere quiet where I can dissuade my lunch from comin' up while 'gently' rubbing my manhandled (or girl-whalloped in this case) nuts!

Dangerous places these crowded plazas, it seems!