Further evidence of personal growth: a path was navigated today that in the past would have resulted in stepping on a land mine and losing a leg...and possibly a testicle...and the flying shrapnel would have maimed others within the blast radius as well (plus you might have gotten smacked with a bloody, flying testicle. Not pretty*). Cooler heads and maturity prevailed, the ordinance was cleared and defused (I went with my gut and cut the blue wire), and the body (and ball) count was nil. The only person to get fragged in the end was Steve Jobs and the Church of Scientology...and I think they can dry their tears with their billions and the packing materials from an iPad.
I think "Bloody Flying Testicle" would be a great name for a punk band.
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