You’re going to go blind, dammit.

Today, I would like to address those of today’s Youth who have developed a certain public habit which is just flat annoying the hell out of me.

I am speaking of those boys — by no means gentlemen, truly — who feel that they simply can not venture into public without a two-fisted grip on Mr. Happy.

They’re every-sodding-where. Groups of them. Standing around with both hands rammed elbow-deep down the front of their trousers.


Listen to me: I have four decades on this dirtball as a male of the species, and I can say with some authority that your wedding tackle is not going to sneak away if you don’t keep a firm grip on it. They’re going to be there next time you go to the litter box, trust me on this.

Your underwear does a fine job of keeping them warm, they don’t need extra bodyheat, nor do they require comforting, and there are three of them down there, so they’re not going to get lonely.

Despite what your mother may have told you, the Tallywhacker Fairy does not exist, and is not going to be stealing anything of yours that you don’t have a firm grip on.

If you are afraid of him falling off, quit putting him into dangerous places.

And, even if you do fail to heed the last advice, he’s going to go through at least four colour changes and shoot up the pain spectrum before detachment occurs, by which time you’ll have plenty of advance warning. In other words, it ain’t gonna be a surprise, boy.



Any male who can’t get from one end of a grocery store to the other without getting a firm grip on the family jewels isn’t a man — he’s a child.

A man does not require constant tactile reassurance that gremlins haven’t stolen his Bestest Buddy Since Puberty*. A man — a gentleman — does not go through society shedding curlies with every handshake, and a gentleman does not force the remainder of society to don gloves before touching public phones, elevator buttons, bank pens, door handles, cans of whole kernel corn, or anywhere else that your arthropod-infested little snot hooks may have been.

I swear to Shiva, if you little perverts don’t get your meat-hooks off your goodies, I’m going to take the bigger half of a pool cue and I’m going to start rapping knuckles.

I do hope I am no less than crystal clear on this one.


* Edited because I had my anatomical euphemisms mixed up.

You know what?
PeTA petters should probably skip this post.

19 thoughts on “You’re going to go blind, dammit.”

  1. ‘Dog,

    I’d go easy on ’em. It takes them so long to find the litle buggers that I can appreciate why they’d want to keep track of them.

    It is pretty foul to do that job continuously with one’s hands, though. I mean, we are a tool-using species.

    I recommend providing these children with a 4″ wide by 6″ long orange bicycle flag, attached to a length of strong string, with a 1/4″ noose at the other end. Tell them to wrap the noose around their wobbly bits, and that should provide them with a guide so they can find their wizzle sticks before they wet themselves.

    If they protest that the equipment they possess is of sufficient size that they don’t need this aid, ask to see a bill of sale.

  2. Nothing shows greater disrespect than some kid with his hands buried in his pockets as someone speaks to him. I’ve made a bad habit of calling it out. Back home, some 19-year-old schmuck talks to me in that pose, I light him up with my canned Sergeant’s homily about standing up straight, hands out of pockets, eye contact, and enunciation. Only about 10dB softer than the voice I use with my Marines. So what if they’re civilians? There’s still such a thing as civility, diminished as it may be. Sometimes I have to remind kids what their parents were too lazy or useles to teach them.

    And just think, I’m going to be on a college campus in a couple of months. the University of South Alabama is about to get interesting. Tiny bastion of liberalism in a reliably red county in a reliably red state. Just listen for leather-tongued shouting and breaking glass.

  3. Law Dog, I stand with you on this issue of these curds cuddling their cajonies. And I suggest that these same individuals would please refrain from showing the world their underwear. When I see their undergarments displayed 18 inches above their droopy jeans I have to restrain myself from giving them a king size wedgie, pulling their drawers up over their ears and stapling them to their sloping foreheads. What is it with this kind of anthropoid behavior? And this rule applies to the fairer sex also. If I wanted to see what color of thong you were wearing I would pull you low riders down around your knees. I went into a fast food place last week and was greeted by this rotund exhibitionist that displayed her back all the way from the crease of her ample butt to her shoulder blades along with her numerous tattoos. I fault the manager of the establishment on this on and the next time I have the displeasure to be exposed to this type of behavior I WILL inform the corporate office of my views on this kind of dress code (or lack of). Keep up the good work.

  4. I’ve found “tuggin’ on it ain’t gonna make it any bigger, boy” to be a fine way into shaming them to turn loose of it.

  5. HOOOAH!
    I just don’t get the “pants under your ass” look either.
    It’s not sexy.
    It’s not pretty.
    It’s not turning me on.

    It’s making me want to slap your face for not covering your ass and for playing with yourselves in public.
    Too bad their mother’s don’t feel the same way I do about it.

  6. The pants under the ass thing is “gangsta”. Most don’t know it came from prison culture. A form of advertisement, if you will.

  7. There is one benefit to this behavior.

    Far from needing to be kept warm, the dangly bits are dangly because they need to be somewhat below normal body temp to operate properly. In other words, heating ’em up makes ’em not work. Since this is probably the only form of birth control these yahoos practice – other than their general appearance and demeanor – you wouldn’t want it to completely disappear.

  8. If they are afraid of them falling off, then do them a favor:

    Run a few staples or nails through it just to make sure it stays put.

  9. One of the funniest things I ever saw was a Marine ‘depantsing’ one of these critters right in the front hall of the school. All he did was ‘step large’ and catch the back end of the baggy legs draggin’ on the ground (since the ‘crotch seam’ of said pants was down around the boyz knees).

    Boy tripped, landed on his knees, and came around all hostile. And looked up, and up and up…… All that blue and brass must have made an impression, the fight plum went out of that boy visibly.

    I almost DIED laughing.

  10. Got yer private parts confused, there, buckaroo. The fundament is the other part. The anus or buttocks.

    In the future, I simply must remember to calm down before opining.

    Thanks, Pawpaw.

  11. Could be they have both hands on man’s best friend because they’re afraid someone’s going to kick them in the balls for being a bunch of morons.

  12. LawDog,
    this blog and some of your commentors inspired my Tuesday, 6/27 blog. Thanks. I also posted a link back to here, so maybe you’ll get a few new readers.


  13. ROFL, LawDog. Oh my! I have to wipe the tears from my eyes.

    Let’s also add the boys to this list who wear their pants so big, they have to hold them on to walk. I guess grabbing certain objects achieves two objectives at once.

    Kiki B.

  14. The Talleywhacker Fairy?

    I was chuckling until I got to “the Talleywhacker Fairy” and now I can’t breathe, and I can’t stop laughing.

    LawDog, you have a way with words.

  15. You know what my first instinct is when I see these damn fools with their pants down to their asses is? Pull out a belt and "educate" them with the business end of it.

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