Its 6am. I’ve been at work for the past twelve hours. Hour drive home. Sunglasses. Check. Rice crispy treats. Check. Fuck you LA traffic. Home now. Smoke some resin out of my pipe. Need to sleep. Crawl into bed. First order of business, knees bent, hand down pants. Scratch the taint. Ahhhh. God that feels good. Three minutes later I roll over and sleep till three PM.

Next day same story, except I’m on the couch falling asleep to the World Cup. Hands down pants. Scratch the taint. Sleep. Wake up at 3Pm. Shower. Scratch. Head to work. I drive mini vans and take out garbage. Restocking coolers I flirt with the crafty girls. I do this for twelve hours then I drive home. Scratch Scratch.

This is the honeymoon stage with my itchy taint. I don’t remember when we first got married or how it happened. You were drunk. But this is when I love you the most and the sex is great. I don’t itch at all during the day. As soon as the sun dips behind the San Fernando mountains. The scratch is on. It’s a never-ending mosquito bite and I love it. Wallow in the itch. Dive deep into the feeling of bliss as I dig my fingers tips into my flesh. Scratch. Sleep. Work . Scratch. Sleep. And Repeat.

I spend a lot of time hacking my computer. Killing the FB. Then I spend two hours winking at girls on match dot com. Loser. They never wink back. I haven’t been laid in a year. Not since the divorce. Not counting that coked out stripper from last month? Never happened JFK. Lies. I resolve to spend the rest of my days alone and celibate. Scratch. Scratch.

Working now. Standing with cold water bottles in my hands for the producers. The constant chatter of production drama buzzes in my ear. Who’s got a twenty on the keys to the Bentley? Anyone? Crickets. I giggle to myself. I start handing out water to people who have only just recently started looking me in the eye. Suddenly it hits me like tidal wave. Scratch. Please scratch me. Please. I look around; how can I get away with scratching my taint in front of all the producers on set? Your fucked dude. Pass out the water. Quick. Pretend to take a smoke break. Left hand in pocket. Push balls back and to the right. Giggle. Scratch. There. Now I’ve done it. Time to leave me alone. I go back to work; unable to shake the sick feeling in my stomach. The honeymoon is over. The sex is gone. The love will fade and the great war of the itchy itchy taint has begun. I don’t know it yet but I’m in for some serious shit.

I decide to wait a while just to see if the itchiness goes away. It doesn’t. Now I must find alternate solutions to this problem. It’s getting out of control. I’m constantly thinking about putting my hands down my pants and scratching. Not good. This is pushing the realms of my sanity. Assuming your in the slightest bit sane in the first place. I try not scratching. Don’t have the will power. Scratch. Scratch. My itchy taint is winning and I don’t know what to do. I consider all manner of diseases and rashes. I consult the Internet, scouring the pages of web MD. Nothing worth mentioning. I haven’t had sex in a year. Pretty much rules out everything sex related. Why god why? Scratch. Scratch.

I also spend some time wondering why the rest of my down town area is itch free. Balls. Check. Manhood. Check. Lower belly. Check. Everything is where it should be and feels normal. Scratch the perineum (what the medical community calls it) weirdoes. What am I missing? What’s the defining difference between my balls and my taint? Two look like the moon and the other a landing strip? Obvi. Think. Then suddenly it hits me. For the last three months I had been doing some pretty extensive manscaping. I had very little pubic hair around my junk. The only area left untamed was between my skinny legs. What grows on hair and itches at night? Jesus. Eats. Buttery. Crabs.

Fuck.

How the hell did I get crabs? This is ridiculous. I’m embarrassed. Scared. I remember reading a story about solders in the Vietnam War who used to douse them selves with diesel fuel to kill crabs. I briefly consider going to the gas station and buying a gallon. Horrible idea. Pour gas on my junk in the shower? No thank you. On the lawn? Possible. I look for alternate routes. Hit the pharmacy. Work up the courage.
“Excuse me?”

“Yes?” Says the girl behind the counter. Cute. Fuck this is so embarrassing.

“Do you have anything that kills lice?” I ask.

“Body lice or room lice?” She smiles as she asks me this, I wonder if there is a difference. Also, is she fucking with me? Suck it up crab boy.

“Body lice.” My face goes bright red.

“Aisle nine on your right.”

“Thanks.”

Buy the biggest bottle of lice killer. Fuck you crabs. I got your number now. Get home, lather up the stuff. Rub it on. Wait for ten minutes as directed. Naked. I feel it start to burn and hop in the shower. After two days of this torture I re-read the directions. Apparently I need to shave. Great. Get wasted. Always shave better drunk. Here goes nothing. I shave my taint. Lice killer. Get some.

A few days go by and everything is back to normal. Then. Itch. Itch. Scratch. What the F? How hard are these mother fuckers to kill? No. They are dead. But your hair is growing back.

A week passes.

Oh my god. I have a cactus growing between my legs. The fresh spikes of my newly born taint hair pick and poke, scraping my legs as I walk. Every movement is absolute torture. This sucks.

Then suddenly I discover something completely surprising. I fart. Instead of going out like a good fart should. It comes blasting up and hits my balls like a hot summer breeze. Guess there is a good reason for having a hairy taint after all. I spend the next three weeks farting forward. I shower twice a day.

After two more weeks everything is back to normal. Kind of. Still scarred for life. Its wrap out on my reality dating show. The kind of show were couples are encouraged to screw in hot tubs and bang it out in showers.

“Hey Bapu, do you want these towels? They are left over from the cast bathroom.”

“Yes of course I want them.”

I go home. Shower. Without thinking grab a towel and use it. And the war of the itchy itchy taint begins again.

Fuck.