Revolve Around My Balls

I’m not sure where you’re coming from with this one. I’m not arrogant enough to make the claim that everything revolves around my balls. My balls are simply not massive enough to have an entire universe trapped in their gravitational pull. They are, however, of sufficient mass to have one small insignificant solar system in tow.

Most people think the sun is pretty impressive. It’s big, it’s bright, it sustains life on Earth, but if you even so much as catch a glimpse of one of my nuts, you’ll never want to go outside during the day again. The sun shrinks away in shame every time I step outside naked, which is pretty much every time I step outside.

The fact is the sun has shown signs of severe depression since the conception of my nuts. NASA and the ESA are currently planning a joint mission to ram a Prozac, Vicodin, Gin cocktail roughly the size and mass of Mercury down the sun’s filthy cakehole. The idea isn’t necessarily to get the sun to feel better about itself, but to drug its ass to oblivion so it will quit being such a crybaby and just do it’s goddamn job.

Now, as much as my diamonds dominate the sun, they are aware of their overall insignificance in the galaxy. They know they can only control the events of one solar system and influence the movements of a few nearby stars. So I will never say that everything revolves around my balls. Just everything you know and love.

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