Balls are funny.  If there was ever a review site for the human body, and what evolution created, the humble testicle would get a low review.  Seriously, what committee did mother nature convene that came up with the human tesitcile?  Must have been a late in the day Friday type meeting when everyone had half an eye on the pub opening times.  For one thing why they are they on the outside of our bodies?  Surely putting such sensitive equipment in such a vulnerable position can’t be a good idea can it?  A tough boney protective shield would have been a great idea.  It’s not just stray footballs that can catch us blokes unaware, it’s also sitting down too fast, going over a pothole on a bicycle… I could go on but anyone reading this who has the aforementioned delicate equipment installed knows all too well just how many ways a mans’ nads can suffer an unwanted grievance. 

So why don’t we talk about about our knackers?  Well for one thing they ain’t pretty.  Most parts of the human body can flex, perform useful tasks, or at the very least have the ability to move if threatened with a physical indignity.  But testicles, well they just sort of hang there waiting for grief to come and find them.  Unless it’s very cold, but that’s not a ‘feature’ we wish to dwell on.

So why am I talking bollocks?  I mean talking more bollocks than normal?  Well the truth is that not enough men check themselves for irregularities.  And when I say checking yourself I mean having a gentle rummage in the bath or at some other suitably private opportunity.  The fact is not enough men routinely check the state of their machinery.  We take it for granted that all is well, but it only takes a moment to check everything is as you would expect it is with your boy conkers.

So why don’t men check themselves more often?  There’s a wide variety of cheap jokes I could make about pocket billiards and whatnot in this post but I’m not sure that would strike the right chord.  Instead I’m going to put my money where my mouth is (no sniggering) and I’m going to do something bold to make my point.

If you’ve met me then you’ll know that something I have in abundance is hair.  It’s spouting out of my face like it’s making a break for freedom and I’ve got dreads that are quite probably large enough to rehome a badger set. I like my hair, I like my beard.  Both have taken years to cultivate and have become a part of my schtick.  They keep me warm on winter days and save me a fortune in sunscreen in the 11 days of the year we call the British Summer.  But I’m prepared to lose them.

Yes, if I get enough sponsorship I’m going to get sheared, all in the name of raising awareness of testicular cancer awareness.  Have you ever noticed how uncomfortable and naked looking newly sheared sheep look?  Sponsor me, and you could well see me stumbling about the place, totally bald, cold and exposed to the elements.

Click the link below, donate, and rest assured your donation will not only raise money for a brilliant cause but will also make my wife very happy indeed.

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