The Beginning

This happened many moons ago, enjoy...Ballalogues

Somewhere there reside two balls who live in a humid, dark location. Their only enjoyment and sorrow can only come from each other, since that is all they see and hear. Their names are Lamar (ball on the left) and Reginald (ball on the right) and we will pick up on one of their many endless bantering sessions.

Lamar: Hey, can I borrow ten dollars?

Reginald: Jesus Christ. Can’t you see I’m doing the crossword puzzle? What was that Barbara Striesand movie where she won an Oscar?

Lamar: How the fuck do you expect me to know anything about that bitch and whore of an actress. The only thing I know of her is she was a beast on that Southpark episode.

Reginald: Wasn’t that Rosie O’donnell, oh well, what’s the difference except for a few hundred pounds. Don’t play all too cool for school with me, I know you have a hidden obsession with her, now tell me and I’ll give you the ten dollars.

Lamar: Funny Girl, she played Fanny Brice…the only reason I know that shit is because my Mom made me watch all her movies growing up.

Reginald: Grow some balls bitch and stop blaming your Mom…Here’s your ten bucks

Lamar: How am I gonna grow balls when I am one, and by the way, maybe we should talk about who has been doing most of the sperm producing around here. Seems to me that all you do is hang around doing crossword puzzles, drinking scotch, and smoking that damn pipe of yours.

Reginald: Hmm, let’s think about it. All I have going for me right now is sitting in a small, dark, hot and humid sac with my only discussions occurring with a half-witted imbecile who actually think he’s doing some good in this world by squirting out a few milligrams of jizz into the vas deferens every so often. Tell me why in the world would I want work my ass off just so that horny bastard upstairs gets to cum all over some bitch when the only enjoyment I might get is to be banged around while all I’m trying to do is get my buzz on so I can put up with your bullshit.

Lamar: Well, I can see someone is out of there happy pills. How about I give you a surprise I got you. Here.

(hands Reginald a magazine)

Reginald: What the hell is this, some disgusting porno that is all crumpled and sticky from you using it?

Lamar: No, better. It’s an issue of Sports Digest. So it will flood your memory of those days when the big guy upstairs used to play all those sports that included balls, which somehow always found a way to knock the shit out of us.

Reginald: (throwing the magazine against the wall, perturbed) You are such a fucking asshole Lamar. It took me six months of counseling, hundreds of pills, and gallons of booze to help me forget about those traumatic days and you come in here bringing it all back with this disgusting magazine that is best used as a fire starter.

Lamar: Well, at least I’m being thoughtful to my sacmate. By the way, I shouldn’t even get you a surprise the way you have been neglecting on cleaning up after yourself in the kitchen. Even if the washer is full at least rinse off your fucking plate, especially when you eat fried eggs and that yolk dries up and is impossible to clean off once it hardens.

Reginald: God, are you sure you don’t have a giner cause I feel like I need to start calling you Lucille. That shit has happened only a couple of times and it was because I was reeling from an awful hangover. Hell, I was lucky just to put it in the sink without vomiting all over our humble sac.

Lamar: Couple of times, ha. Your hungover about 90 percent of the time.

Reginald: Maybe so, but I was only dumb enough twice to try and swallow down some fried eggs the next morning to help eliminate the headache, only to realize that the only true cure is to start drinking more beer.

Lamar: Can’t argue with that.

Thus ends the first ballalogue between sacmates, best friends, sworn enemies, and brothers (little do they know by different Dads) Lamar and Reginald.