My siblings and are pretty close despite our age differences and even though one of us lives in Texas, we still keep in good contact. Â As is most of my conversations these days, we text each other a lot. Â I actually really like texting because it is less intrusive in people’s lives. Â You don’t have to stop what you are doing to take a text message and if you are busy (or sleeping like I do during the day) it does not interrupt you. Â Our text messages to each other can be quite funny but when you put us in a group text? Â Good lord. Â The best things happen.
This particular text message started out because Seester was reading The Fabulist by Dawn Chiletz and in the first chapter she mentions a character with the same name as Bubby. Â And in not a nice way but a hysterical one. Â So Seester sends Bubby and I a pic of the pages of her kindle where Bubby’s name is used and I immediately start laughing. Â Seriously it is that funny. Â Especially since the main character of the book begins to describe the dick pic she received from Bubby’s namesake and then she makes fun of his name. Â I immediately start laughing but the text message that follows those pictures? Â Classic. Pretty sure not every sibling group can have a text message about ball sacks and testicles, but we did. Â Only my siblings.
Bubby (after reading the pages Seester sent us): Â What the hell? Â Wait…that might be something I would do (referring to sending a dick pic)
Me: Â I don’t want dick pics from my brother. Like ever.
Seester: Â Me neither. Â But reading that shit right away was pretty f***ing hilarious.
Bubby: Â I’m gonna send pics of my balls to everyone!
Seester: Â Oh dear Lord.
Me: Â Only our brother would say that #fuckingweirdo. Â This is the best group text ever.
Bubby (proceeds to insert a pic of a fake ballsack here. Â I think it was one made of chocolate): Â Don’t worry. Â I only send real dick pics to BIL.
Seester: Â So does that mean BIL sent you one he took the other night?
Me: Â OMG. Â I am dying.
Bubby: Â He does have a weird thing about getting the proper angle and always wants my opinion on how it looks. Usually it is just of the twig and not the berries.
Me: Â Omg. Â I am crying. Â Who names a kid your name anyways? (I now proceed to say a little rhyme with Bubby’s name in it that he hates).
Bubby: Â I hate you. Â Dude seriously. Â It rhymes with dance and pants. Â Thanks Mom.
Me: Â I can’t even
Bubby (then proceeds to send the following pic with this caption): ‘Murica

At this point, I am laughing out loud in my house all by myself because I can just hear him saying “‘Murica” knowing how much we all hate that phrase. Â This patriotic pic also came with a warning from our Bubby not to do a Google image search for the word ballsack. I decided to take his word on that one as I did nt need to be traumatized. Â But then of course, I did anyways. Â I should have heeded his warning. Â Don’t do it. Â I know you want to badly right now, but I am urging you not to…unless you too want to be traumatized with those weird pictures. Â I might have shared one of those scary pics with my siblings in which I said it was the thing nightmares are made of. Â Seester then proceeds to tell us about how a guy in college whipped out his grossly enlarged testicle for her to see and all I could wonder was whether or not other siblings had these type of text messages or if it was just us. Â Also, my stomach hurt from laughing. Â Oh but it didn’t stop there.
Seester: Â He just whipped it out right there to show us his enlarged restive. Just randomly showed it to us. Â *testicle…apparently my phone does not like that word.
Bubby: Â Hahaha. Â Enlarged restive. What the hell is that anyways? Â Testicle. Â My phone seems to have no such compunction, odd…
Me: Â Testicle, testicle, testicle. Â Mine either.
Seester: Â Restive, restive, restive. Â My autocorrect is a picky bitch. Â Also, why is ballsack backpack the number one Google search for ball? (obviously she did not heed Bubby’s warning either)
Bubby: Â WTF is that? Â I don’t wanna know. Â I told you not to Google that shit.
Seester: Â Scrote N Tote. Â I know what Bubby is getting for Christmas.
Me: Â This is so happening.
Bubby: Â I will kill you. Â I hate you both. Â Go away.
I might add here he sent us a cartoon pic of a ballsack with smiley faces on them with the caption “Sweet dreams”. Â I can’t even begin to tell you how bad my stomach hurt from laughing or how many tears were running down my face at this point. Â Leave it to my Bubby to end a text conversation with a happy cartoon drawing of a ballsack.
Go ahead. Â I know you want to Google image search ballsack. Â But don’t say we didn’t warn you. Oh and the Scrote N Tote? Â Totally a real thing.
Oh yeah. Â I didn’t die today. Â I did have one of the funniest text conversations ever with my siblings that was entirely about dick pics and ballsacks but I didn’t die. Â I am Fat Girl who still might buy that Scrote N Tote for Bubby for Christmas Running. Â The experiment continues…