Sometimes you’ve got to pick your battles. Wesley Warren Jr. of Las Vegas, Nevada doesn’t appear to understand that. He recently refused a FREE surgery from Dr. Oz to correct his condition. The surgery that he turned down costs roughly $1 million.
If you don’t know who Wesley Warren Jr. is, he happens to be the man with the brontosaurus scrotum pictured above. Warren has a rare condition that caused his berries to turn into boulders. His testicles are so large that when he goes out in public he has to conceal them in a hoodie (what a geed, if I had a 100lb scrotum I’d wrap that bad boy up in a Brooks Brothers blazer, amiright?). And no, unfortunately he cannot bounce around on his sack Randy Marsh style. Life never imitates art when I want it to.
So why did Warren refuse the surgery? Because one of the conditions of accepting the FREE ONE MILLION DOLLAR SURGERY from Dr. Oz was that he would option his story rights away. Warren would like to retain the rights to his story. Apparently the “fame” he receives from his condition is more important to him than, you know, not looking like the villain from a bad sci-fi porno.
(*two space pilots are fucking on a spaceship*)
(*suddenly the door to the bedroom explodes*)
Captain Cock: My. God! What… um was that?
Lt. Candi Spanxxx: Oh no! It’s our number, one enemy! Blue Balls!
(*a grotesque man with a giant scrotum lumbers in*)
Blue Balls: Mwahahahaha. You will not, finish now! Captain Cock! Not on her chest. Not anywhere! Mwuahahaha! Soon your balls will be as swollen and blue as mine!
Captain Cock: noooooooooooo!
Spoiler Alert: Lt. Spanxxx saves the day after becoming the first women in the universe to bring Blue Balls to climax. Then her and her friends from the all female space academy have sex with a nine penis’ed alien or something.
Back to Warren, I’ve always assumed the three main benefits to being famous were getting laid, getting paid, and getting free shit. Warren just refused one million dollars worth of free surgery. He still hasn’t sold the rights to his story and he appears to be riding the bus in that picture so I’m pretty sure he’s not getting paid much of anything. And I could be wrong, after all I’m sure there’s someone out there with a calcified scrotum fetish, but I’m guessing that the fat, poor guy with a ball sack the size of a smart car probably isn’t getting laid all that often.
“Yeah that’s right baby, you DID see me on National Geographic. What up? You wanna go back to my place? Bus leaves in ten. Do me a favor and tie up my scrote hoodie for me. Be gentle girl.”
My advice to the Sack-ness Monster? Take the surgery bud.
- [via The Daily What]