Ow, My Groin!

Honesty time: who else spent this past Friday night at their local Barnes & Noble, pelting the Potterized children standing in line with jelly beans while screaming "NERDS!" at the top of their lungs? Oh, I'm the only one? Whatever. At least I have standards. Sadly, ultimately I was actually duped into buying a copy of the last Harry Potter book as a "gift" for my old lady, which makes me part of the problem instead of part of the solution. In case you haven't read the book yet, let me go ahead and end the suspense and tell you what happens: after winning the Hogwart's talent show with a rousing calypso version of Ol' Dirty Bastard's You Don't Want to F**k With Me, Harry becomes a sensation in the British press, and is hounded mercilessly. Seeking anonymity, he changes his name to Gary Potter. Alas, because the name 'Gary' is so bland and boring, Harry loses his magical powers, and ends up having to give $5 tugjobs in back alleys just to make a living. Meanwhile, Voldemort becomes the Emperor of Iceland and his approval ratings soar after he lowers taxes. However, he's eventually thrown out of office when it's discovered that Iceland has had a law on the books since the 17th century outlawing people without noses from holding public office. Thus concludes the wizardly adventures of Harry Potter, Gandalf, Voltron, Dick Cheney, and all the other fantastic characters that we've come to know and love over the years.

But, speaking of tugjobs, the other day I helped my friend move, and in the process I think I pulled something in my groin. Things were okay until this past Saturday when I was lifting weights and further groined my groin. My problem is this: how do I actually tell people that I think I have a groin pull? What I mean is, if someone asks me "What did you do this weekend?" and I reply by saying "I pulled my groin", I'm pretty sure that they'll assume that I'm cheekily referring to wanking it, and will say something like "I'll bet you did!" Meanwhile I'm limping around like a schlub, afraid to lift anything heavier than a magazine for fear that my wang will turn inside out or something. I think the solution is obvious: I'm going to make a sign that reads "Be nice to me: my dong hurts" and wear it around my neck.

You know how sometimes if a bottle of soda has been shaken, if you open it it will explode on you in a manner not unlike something that explodes? Of course you do. Well, I had such a thing happen to me yesterday, except that instead of soda, it happened when I opened a bottle of non-carbonated water. Is that weird? I think so. Should I be worried? I also think so. Do I think so too much? Probably. All I'm saying is that I'm pretty sure that there were mind-flaying alien parasites living in the bottle of water, and that's what caused it to exploderize in the first place (that's basic physics). Obviously, these mind-flaying parasites are now inside me, because I didn't let a little exploderation prevent me from drinking the water. So not only do I have the non-masturbatory groin pull to contend with, but my mind is also being erased by microscopic parasites. GREAT. Some days it just doesn't pay to get out bed.