During a regularly scheduled nakie time on my couch I happened upon the skin junction. The Vornado was on full blast. The chilly air stream finding it's mark between my spread open legs. The tadpole production factory turtled some in response to cooling. Mindlessly juggling winky and his hairy pals, my finger ran across a raised bit.

Damn thing splits the fucker right down the middle. This has me worried. If you know anything about seams, you know that a recipe exists to undo them. In no way do I want my ball sack to unzip and empty it's contents down my thighs. Falling out the bottoms of my Levi's. Chasing after my testes rolling down a hill. In the shower desperately trying to prevent any bits circuling down the drain.

I can only hope the ball seam is stronger than space shuttle tiles designed to withstand the pressures of re-entry into the earth's atmosphere. I want my ball seam to be able to withstand hurricane winds, the worst possible Richter scaled quake, and even millions of gamma ray particles slamming into it.

I will be severely disappointed if one good tug and my coin purse opens up like a Ziplock freezer bag.