(A new fit for an old joke?)
My best friend, a heavy man, was missing several weeks from the usual weekly gathering at our local bar, so when he came in (looking very serious) I asked, "What's up?"
He (looking down) said well, he'd been having headache problems but now (sighing) that was all resolved through a pretty drastic remedy.
Sighing again. "Well, the doc said my balls are the problem, and the best remedy is castration."
"Whoa!" I said, deeply shocked at this cure for the problem.
He looked normal I'll say that, but then he brightened up as he told me he'd just been to his tailor for new pants (to cheer himself up) and what that worthy said.
"Well, I told my tailor, I need 32 length, easy on the ankle style, and he replied: 'Got it!'"
"Next, I says, and 32 at the waist. But he says, 'Ah, no, no way, no, your size is 34'."
"But, says I, no, I've got you there. I've been at 32 all my life and never deviated."
"Yes, that may be," he says, "but at 32 you'll pinch your balls and give yourself headaches!"