Matty Ice
Being from the Northeast, winters always consisted of my nuts being bound in some pair of boxers, entrapped in a prison of fabric and stitching. It was hard to get to them when I had an itch, especially when wearing jeans. It was like my Johnson and cahones had committed a misdemeanor and were sentenced to 6-7 months (weather depending) of constant, awkward readjustment. There is nothing worse than a ball wedgie. So when I decided to take my talents down to South Florida for college, I knew what I was doing 100% of the time: free balling.
God DAMN there is no better feeling than letting the hangers hang. It is like my precious little quail eggs are listening to free bird with the top down. Free balling might be the best thing about going to school down south. Who cares about going to class with girls in bikinis, mid-tier football, and palm trees? Letting the gonads hang like a hammock trumps all of those collectively.
I don’t think I’ve worn a pair of underwear in Florida unless I’m dressing up. It is shorts all day, everyday, and my balls get to feel every square inch of the liner. I want my TESTICLES to feel what my ancestors felt. Gents, if you are considering transferring from whatever miserably cold college you’re at, come to Florida. Let the nuts hang.
