Epiphany or Marriage Counciling

Last night, I had an epiphany. Quite by accident and at a time that I don’t normally have wondering thoughts, a hypothesis happened upon my very receptive consciousness.

Sex is a pain killer.

Guys…you’ll understand a bit better than the girls, but I think they’ll catch on.

Evidence:

Guys, remember the last time your Franks ‘N Beans were “slightly” grazed by some foreign object…no I don’t mean Keira Knightley. Like those times when you’re walking and someone bumps into and their leg or arm just grazes the Twins. About 15 seconds later, you’re doubled over trying desperately to breath.

The Phantom Nut-racking…fatal to some men…debilitating to others.

Fact:

A man’s testicles are two very sensitive pieces of equipment, affected by climate and environmental changes.

Theory:

Sex negates the pain receptors in the testicles when the owner/operator is in the “command” position. (Command position is any position where the man is “driving”, so to speak.)

Evidence for theory:

During a vigorous encounter with my wife in the Doggie Style position…we really need to rename that…I became VERY aware that my man-sack was beating against my wife’s pelvic region like the head of a conga drum. I felt no pain. None. I could hear my Spaldings slapping collectively against my wife and it didn’t hurt at all.

How can I hit it like a speed bag and come away all smiles in that situation, yet cry like a kicked puppy if I drop a pad of paper in my lap? WTF?

Obviously, sex turns off those pain receptors. It’s got to be similar to walking on hot coals. A guy’s mind must go into a Zen-like meditative state, blocking the pain or substituting it for pleasure.

That means I’m a freak’n sadomasochistic shaolin sex master!

So, guys, next time you and the lady are in the mood, tell her you want to try the “Meditating Lotus Petal” position.

Anyone care to provide an alternative theory?