> MOST EUNUCHS LOST THE BALLS AND THE CHINESE TOOK THE WHOLE INVENTORY

Most eunuchs were castrated by removal of the testicles. The Chinese did it root and stem. Penis and testes. The whole inventory.

A man with no balls is short a hormone and a future. He still has the thing that makes the locker room look at the floor. The palace version removed the argument along with the inventory. You do not negotiate from a root-and-stem. You hold the basin. You open the door. You tell the person who kept his parts what he wants to hear, because you no longer have a counteroffer that fits in a hand. They kept the offcuts in a jar so the eunuch could be buried with them later, which is the most honest benefits package ever written down. You get your dick back when you are dead and no longer in a position to use it.

The other empires mostly stopped at the balls. Court singers, the Italian stage, the Ottoman hallway. You can still piss standing up. The Chinese surgeon took the penis with the testes and left a reed in the wound so the man could pee through a hole while it closed. The infographic calls that tradition. It was plumbing. A beta was not a mood on a forum. It was a reed and a jar and a man who opened doors for the rest of his life.

That is the modern American cuck, servant to Israel, walking around with the full set and using it like the jar already has his name on it. He has the parts. He votes like they were taken in a courtyard in the Qing dynasty. He will explain, at a barbecue, why his country goes last in line behind a country that is not his, and he will call the explanation loyalty. The eunuch got a job in the palace out of the procedure. This one pays for the procedure, thanks the surgeon, and then asks if the surgeon needs anything else from the garage.

The cage is chicken wire painted black. You stop seeing it by week two. Same video every morning at 7, seven months running, and he calls it being informed. Hell, but the lawn looks good. Hell, but the alliance is strong. Women invent a problem the minute the kitchen is clean, and he is grateful, because a manufactured problem is a task and a task feels like having a dick. The board of directors bought a steel mill and called it a steal mill in the slide deck, and he clapped, because clapping is what you do when your inventory is in somebody else's jar.

MacGyver turned 41. A man who built a weapon out of gum and a paperclip is old enough to have a bad knee, and the replacement product is a guy who builds a statement out of a paperclip and posts it before work. Married with Children is still out there cooking sitcoms that have Al Bundy's couch and none of his contempt, or they have the contempt and they aim it at the neighbor's flag instead of at the landlord. McAfee would sit in an interview and throw a bomb on the table and let it tick. The polite version now is worse. The polite version smiles, launders the same request through a think tank, and calls you brave for repeating it.

The NFL found another way to humiliate the country before the first quarter, and the servant explained the humiliation as growth. He has season tickets. He has the foam finger. He has the full original equipment, root and stem, and he used all of it to nod at a jumbotron.

I am not outside this. I have both. Nobody took them. I used them today to refresh the same argument I've been losing since the lawn looked good, and then I agreed with a man who does not know my name because agreeing was faster than standing in the doorway with my inventory in my hand. The jar on the shelf is for men who got paid. Mine is still attached, and it has not done a single thing this year that a root-and-stem eunuch could not have done with a basin and a smile.