Bulging with talent

I like to think positive but if this writer thing doesn't work out, the profession I have chosen to fall back on will be cargo container - simply because I love to carry things in my pants. It makes me feel big, powerful and loaded like a human semi-truck. 

In the early days, I would ship important items from the kitchen to the living room. But just for fun. Then, one fateful day, my passion became more powerful than my medication and I was soon transporting goods from my apartment to my therapist's office without incident. I had lots of room in my pants and a talent that few others can lay claim to.

I am not bragging when I say this but I can carry it all - cheese graters, frozen foods, curling irons and certain types of lawn furniture. And I do it for no reason at all, other than the enjoyment one gets from feeling purposeful and having large items squishing your genitals. 

I once transported my grandmother from her senior's Residence to the Rose Hill National cemetery to show her where her next 'outing' would be. I am proud to say she arrived without a scratch. 

I will put that on my resume.

I think it is important to say that I have not attempted to carry livestock yet, but if the price is right it wouldn't be out of the question. I may need to purchase bigger pants if we are talking about cows though. 

Interestingly enough, my testicles are not happy with this hobby and have let me know with their itching and swelling. I think they want me to continue writing.