I don’t have the balls to jump off a cliff, huh? The matter of cliff jumping has nothing to do with balls. I have the vagina to jump off of a cliff – I just don’t have the courage to take the first step and the bladder and/or sphincter control to make the jump a very pleasant experience, especially if there’s someone waiting to help me survive this jump at the bottom.
I say I’m nervous for this job interview and you tell me to “grow some balls.” Because that will be helpful for a job interview! I’ll walk in, proudly swinging my newly acquired testicles and because of nervous pre-interview sweat, I’ll be able to find out how uncomfortable it is when your nutsack sticks to your legs.
I’ll tell you one thing – there are some interviews that I don’t have the balls to get the job, no matter how well I do. In some instances, they may not want me for an interview, but my potential employer may call me in anyways, because I don’t have the balls to be not considered. I don’t have the balls to be considered the majority.
I don’t have the balls to sleep with whoever I want without being looked down upon, by those who do have balls and otherwise. I don’t have the balls to feel uneasy whenever I’m walking home alone after midnight – never mind that I live in the suburbs. And when I don’t want you in my pants, I don’t have the balls for you to not spit on me, and call me a prude afterwards. It’s those times that I wish I had balls – balls aren’t exactly beautiful, although I’d love for you to find that surprise when you’re groping me when I tell you not to. But I don’t have the balls for you to stop doing that to me, or to other women. No doesn’t mean no to you. To you, no means “I bet you’d like it,” “You were asking for it,” “Prude,” “Slut,” “Bitch,” “Whore” and “How about some roofies?”
Don’t tell me to grow some balls, or to man up. These are not things that signify courage or assertive action. Tell me to stand up straight. Tell me all the nice things about me. Tell me that it could be worse, that I could, at that moment, be growing some testicles and wouldn’t that be embarrassing, for aforementioned reasons?
The same applies for men. They are proud of their balls, as they should be. So don’t tell them that they don’t have any when they show emotion in public, whether they’re happy or sad. When they’re nervous, don’t accuse them of lacking sperm producing appendage. If they don’t want to do something, maybe it’s because they’re uncomfortable. This has nothing to do with their lack of genitals! This oral castration takes away from the good strong men they are and cuts them down to weak, cuts them down to bitter – tells them that, because they have balls, they can’t be anything less than a sack of flaming, groping testosterone.
I don’t have the balls to know that everywhere I go, I will be treated as equal. I don’t have the balls to have say over my own body. I don’t have the balls to be taken seriously when I talk about my rights, my freedoms. I don’t have the balls to do a lot of things, no matter how many people with balls tell me this is incorrect.
However, I do have the vagina, the breasts, the mouth, the brain and the heart to make a lot happen, so I’ll start by talking about how I don’t have balls.
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