Knowing Which Side You're On (Nutwise, That Is)


No man alive will believe this, and it is really of no concern to anyone. Yet for some reason I must tell you.
I have apparently switched sides. I wasn't sure for a long time, but my left-handedness is apparently now matched by my left-hangingness. For my whole life, my little guy went to the right - and I've been alive for a good spell now. But he seems to have been turning gradually leftward in the last year - and who am I to make him do otherwise?

Them womenfolk have long joked that our weiners rule us instead of us ruling them, but it's actually an incredibly complex and fairly functional sharing of power (like the Second Triumvirate, minus Octavian).

My theory is that it was my ex-girlfriend Christine who caused (relatively) Little Roy to rebel like this. I was so convinced she was the Forever girl that I think I actually convinced Him as well. And now, in an incredibly bold rebellion, He suddenly resides in the east (at least when I'm facing south).
It's almost like he's saying "I told you so" - every single morning.

I have to assume this sort of phallomigration is unprecedented in human history, and that not even the omnipotent internet could ever tell me otherwise. But just to maintain a feeling of great importance, I will never, ever look it up.

Anyway, it's incredibly important to love - but also to know when to stop loving. The only problem is that (at least to me) the latter is about 40 million times more difficult than the former (which is already almost completely impossible to begin with).
Also, if you ever do happen to have a strong and functional love with someone, it's generally a bad idea to suddenly and secretly transfer that to someone else out of nothing but fear and inability to love yourself. Just sayin'.

I know evolution only put a pecker on me to make a youngin' in the first place. And that fuckin' bitch said she wanted one (a kid, not a cock, obviously). So I decided that when she eventually removed the IUD, I wasn't even gonna tell my Guy Down There, so as not to confuse him (although there is apparently some degree of telepathy involved, which complicates our power-sharing). And odd as it may seem to many, I was ready for the whole deal. And I am absolutely certain that I would've loved and honored her, and whatever weeping freaks came out of her, for the rest of my life.

But in the mornings of these last 6 months, I've finally starting hearing old L-Roy's voice again, squeaking out a warning that somehow escapes from the left side of my covers. "Wake up, idiot!! he says (it's very high-pitched.)
"You deserve SO much better, you fucking dumbass!!," he tells me.

What a dick.


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