Had to go the cock doc. You know, the urologist. The guy who graduated Medical School and decided to specialize in fondling my jammy and grapes. 

Now, you women are all used to going to the doctor and -- without hesitation -- spreading your legs to be groped and viewed. Us men ain't used to THAT! 

I was feeling my Balls. It was an ordinary Saturday night. I noticed one of 'em was larger than the other. Uh-oh. Last thing I got time for is nut cancer. So I did the prudent thing -- I waited just 3 weeks before I called a doctor.

But man, the doc wanted $100! Just to juggle my balls! Man, if I spend 100 units there BETTER be something wrong with me! 

But you know me, I'm Dirty. So I'm thinking WHO ELSE can perform this test. WHO ELSE knows what testicles should feel like? That's right. Hookers.

I could go to a prostitute and have her feel my nuts for just $20! What a bargain! She's groped more balls than any doctor, so she's pretty much an expert.

Then I start thinking, well I already had $100 budgeted... so... why not go to a $20 hooker and then get a 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th opinion?! Genius!

I talked over this hooker-examination with some people I trust. And my Grandma made me realize that even though a prostitute can DRESS UP like a medical professional, she really lacks the proper training.

So I made an appointment with the cock doc. Now, before you go to the dentist, you know how you brush your teeth and floss really carefully? I'm wondering, does that same thinking apply  for visiting the urologist?

Now I'm in the office and the urologist is juggling and pushing and feeling. And he says, "You have a minor infection..." Then he's feeling my package some more and says, "Hmm, doesn't feel LIKE MUCH."

DUUUUUDE!!! I'm already un-com-for-table! I don't need you to tell me what my ex-girlfriends already know! So he's like, "THE INFECTION -- it doesn't feel like much."

Oh.

I'm standing with no pants. The cock doc is sitting on a  stool with his face all up in my shiznit. My natural reaction is to extend my arm and palm the back of his head. I had to catch myself -- "NO!! Do NOT get hard! Do NOT get hard!"

He prescribes me some antibiotics, looks up at me, and the man who has just seen me naked says softly, "Call me...."

DUUUUUDE!! What the HELL?

"CALL ME... if you have any further problems."

Oh.

Thankfully, I'm good now. And I got over my fear of having a man shuffle my grapes around. It was weird, but it was important that I do it to prove that I'm not gay and oh yeah, that I don't have nut cancer. 

He was a nice guy. As I was leaving he gave me a balloon and a kiss on the forehead.

He smelled nice. 

We're going out to dinner on Friday.

Did I mention that he smelled nice?