
Domino, motherfucker!
Balls – Balls are ugly, ugly sacks that hang just below the penis. “Come now,” you must be saying. “Surely this cannot be!” Well, sorry, but that’s just the way it is. Take a quick look right now… No, not the man next to you on the train… no, not him, either… That’s right… that’s it, yes… the conductor.
Balls – Balls are ugly, ugly sacks that hover just above the penis in certain restaurants and five-star nightmares. Surf’s up!

Balls – If you are a well paid celebrity, influential politician, or ambiguously existing debutant, then it is ideal for you to attend balls. If you are pubic lice, it is also ideal for you to attend balls. While this may seem to preclude a syllogism comparing affluent society to pubic lice, we’re afraid to report that the opposite is, in fact, true… You have celebrities on your balls. Dip!
Tripping Balls – What they actually mean when they say “the critics are raving.” Hence, the late Gene Siskel’s incendiary analysis of Jean Renoir’s 1939 classic, La Règle du jeu: “Where the FUCK are my glowsticks!?”

Ball – Go on and have one… it’s all right.
Have a ball.
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