So, the boys are going to some wine tasting, which for some reason involved the tattooed friend running around with no shirt on while digging around in his bag for something.
He then stands up and proceeds to spray this god-awful aerosol crap in a low swinging arc.
“Are you spraying your crotch with that shit?” I ask, incredulous that he would think that such a smell would make any person with a nose come closer to him.
“It’s body spray, B. I was spraying it on my body.”
“You were spraying it on your crotch.”
“If he’d been spraying it on his crotch, he would have just dropped trou and sprayed it on his crotch.”
“Don’t get into this. Doesn’t it burn your delicate bits when it touches them. It smells like it’s nothing but rubbing alcohol and cheap cologne.”
“I, myself, like the feeling of rubbing alcohol on freshly shaven balls.”
“Yeah, it’s great.”
“Oh my god! Now you’ve put the image of my brother’s hairless balls in my head.”
“Not totally hairless. I’ve left myself a little testicle goatee.”
“Are you crying?”
“Well, I got your fucking crotch spray all in my eye.”
“Sorry about that. Next time I’ll try to keep it in your mouth.”