A (mostly) true story.
To protect the idiots involved, some of the names have been changed.
When I was a younger dude, I spent a lot of time hanging out with my friend Moss, His older brother Seth (now my sister's husband) and their cousin Little Jon. The misadventures we had together were never anything short of epic. These guys had taken the idea of “good clean fun” so far over the edge of normalcy, that none of us have ever looked back since.
We never did drugs, drank, smoked, or were into women or girls. Sure we liked the idea of having girlfriends and the like, but the reality is that it just wasn't a part of our exploits. Seth got married after he was 30. Jon died single. Moss got married at 27, and I was the youngest married at 21. That said, we blew stuff up, did crazy things with cars, and spent a lot of time working and playing deep in the desert backcountry.
One of the things we all did a lot of was reading and study. Psychology, philosophy, politics, history energy, healing, martial arts (especially Kung Fu), and emerging technology were all favorite topics and we would regularly talk about the stuff that we had read about, heard about etc.
One afternoon Jon, Moss, & Seth were working over one of Jon's cars to do things it never should, they got to discussing the abilities of certain legendary Kung Fu masters to control their energy. One of the examples that Jon presented was that certain masters could, after years of training, lift great weights from their scrotum. Many bad jokes followed.
Moss decided to try out this idea, and in true dude fashion decided to do so without any training, and with all the wrong equipment.
Out back of his mom's house there was a ramshackle barn they used for their goats. It had been built in the traditional moron method of “hey I need some more space, let's build more on” and constructed of whatever was handy. As a result it was a haven for vermin of all sorts and especially skunks. I have a dozen or so stories involving that barn and skunks.
So Moss took a nice soft rope, went out to the barn, put the rope over one of the rafters, attached it securely, but comfortably to his scrotum, and gradually applied weight.
While standing on the grain bin.
Which then disturbed the skunk that had been sleeping in the grain bin.
Which then panicked, ran out the loose side of the bin, and sprayed Moss.
At which point Moss lost it, lost his footing, and slipped.
Which then transferred the weight of his entire 6' 4” frame onto his scrotum.
He passed out.
A few moments of hanging by the rafter was then too much for the ramshackle construction, and the rafter broke.
A while later, Moss returned to the house limping and very cranky, and smelling of skunk. He wouldn't tell anybody what had happened for a while.
A few days later he asked for help from Seth and I to repair the broken rafter and the smashed grain bin. After a bit of forensic carpentry, and much ribbing and harassment we finally got most of the story of what had happened.
He hasn't lived it down since.
I asked him several years later how much of this story was true. He rather sheepishly told me that the skunk had not actually sprayed him, just near him.
