The South Shall Rise Again and Again and Again—but only because It Has to Scratch a Hard-to-Reach Place

“This hoop skirt makes my balls sweaty.”

So when I say I left the South for the Pacific Northwest for health reasons, I mean the scrotal rainforest my sweaty balls created was the perfect ecosystem for rashes and fungi no bacterial ointment could ever salve. (I'm still recovering from that last one, “Sherman,” that slashed and burned its way across my taint-al Deep South on its way to Anal Atlanta.) Doctors recommended a change in climate, a recommendation I accepted while there was still parts of my nethers not described by the words “scabby” and/or “pus-y.”

Ah, Seattle, home, sweet home.